Secluded in the depths of an ominously putrid marsh was an old and withered willow tree that was evidently wracked with sickness. It gave off a wilted appearance as it rotted from the inside, with ominous mushrooms sprouting here and there, accompanied by small, dark violet flowers that gave a sickly-sweet stench, both of which could be easily recognised as poisonous if anything were to wander by.

At the base of this deathly tree was a small hole, only a couple centimetres in width, this hole lead deep into the tree's roots, leading to a small hollow that contained an indescribable, damp chill. The hollow was directly beneath the rotting core of the tree and was no larger that a human chest cavity, it’s walls consisting of a putrid looking mud that held a foul stench and rotting roots. The periphery was sprouting white mushrooms that were covered in a glossy sheen, some of which seemed to leach into the small puddle of tainted liquids and filth that covered the floor of the hollow except for a bit of ground in the center that rose slightly above the water line.

Upon this boggy rise was a concave dip in which rested a clutch of a dozen knuckle sized eggs, these eggs were a soft white, seeming as delicate as a rose petal. Some of the eggs were grey and inert, marking those who never had a chance, others showed cracks and bulges marking those that whom were unable to escape their ironic prisons.

Almost half of the eggs lay broken, the withered corpses of their occupants scattered across the raised ground, some hanging limply from their shells, others were scattered in the mud, wasting their last moments to find food that was never there, the strongest of the batch made it to the moat surrounding the raise ground, only to be paralysed by the tainted waters, eventually succumbing to thirst, starvation, or poison.

Within the hollow a small cracking sound could be heard, in the middle of the devastated clutch, a lone egg that bore a dull grey pallor was quivering ever so slightly. Time passed slowly as cracks appeared across the eggs surface, bulges formed as something tried to escape its prison. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a baby Softscale snake half emerged from it’s shell.

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The snake was emaciated, looking much like the corpses of its siblings, its scale, which were meant to be a lustrous black, were instead a dull brownish black, much like the walls of the hollow, were encompassing a small and withered body. The little wretch had been cursed blind, bearing two lifeless white orbs, which should have been black and beady. All it could do was hear an oppressive silence, feel a damp chill that reached from the ground and air into the depths of it marrow, and taste the choking stench of death that strived to drown the baby snake. It weakly lifted its head, flicking a small grey tongue in the cloying air, following the instinct to find food it slowly slithered from its shell, trying to differentiate anything from the heavy smell of death that may hint at food.

Seeming on deaths door the baby snake slithered forward, then suddenly stopped, it began moving again, veering to the side with as much energy as it could muster, finally stopping before an egg. The egg’s occupant had only managed to break from its prison before the last of its life was snuffed out, its head dangling from the cracked shell. The baby snake, new nothing, it only drew closer to a spot were the smell of death seemed to intensify, inching forward, its tongue flicked again, only to brush the scales of the corpse, snapping back at the new sensation. Instinct drove the ignorant little creature to reach out, missing a few times before firmly grasping its siblings head in its mouth, then it began to swallow.

A bizarre sight ensued, as the little snake smoothly slithered into the shell, a corpse that appeared little different from it smoothly moved down its throat, nearly doubling the size of the little reptile. Both bones and shell creaked and cracked as they accommodated the enlarged baby snake curling inside, settling to digest the macabre meal, the only of its siblings to achieve such a feat. Closing its eye, the little snake began to rest, almost spending the last of its energy to swallow the pittance of a meal, shivering as it faced the pervasive, inexplicable chill of the hellish hallow.