The hum of fluorescent lights filled the sterile air of the Manipur University biology lab, their white glow illuminating rows of equipment. Test tubes clinked as they were placed into racks, beakers bubbled with curious concoctions, and in the far corner of the lab, Ajit Singh, a first-year postgraduate student, was meticulously jotting down notes.
Ajit’s brow furrowed as he adjusted the position of a glass terrarium in front of him. Inside, a sleek, black-and-green snake coiled lazily, its eyes glinting with an unsettling intelligence. The label on the terrarium read: Naja Radiata – Experimental Subject.
“Careful with that, Ajit,” said Dr. Prakash, the professor overseeing the experiment. He adjusted his glasses and peered over his clipboard. “This isn’t just any snake. Its venom is infused with radioactive isotopes. It’s volatile—one mistake, and…”
Ajit grinned nervously, holding up a hand. “Got it, Professor. Handle with care. No sudden movements. Trust me, I’m good with this stuff.”
From across the room, a voice chimed in, dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, that’s what you said before spilling a Petri dish full of E. coli last week.”
Ajit turned to see Rajesh, his roommate and self-proclaimed lab critic, lounging near the door with a half-eaten samosa in hand.
“Rajesh,” Ajit shot back, “maybe stick to your snacks and let the professionals work, huh?”
Rajesh smirked. “Just saying. One bite from that thing, and you’re going to need more than a band-aid.”
Ajit rolled his eyes and returned to his task. The snake slithered to the edge of the glass, flicking its tongue as if mocking him.
“All right, let’s secure this sample,” Ajit muttered, carefully lifting the lid to insert a small sensor.
But as the lid shifted, the snake moved with blinding speed.
“Whoa!” Ajit jerked back, his heart leaping into his throat.
The snake struck.
Its fangs sank into his hand before he could react, the sharp pain like needles piercing his skin. Ajit gasped, stumbling back and knocking over a tray of equipment.
“Ajit!” Dr. Prakash shouted, rushing forward.
The snake darted out of the terrarium, slithering across the floor and disappearing into the shadows before anyone could stop it.
Rajesh’s samosa hit the floor as he stared, wide-eyed. “Oh man… that thing bit you!”
“I… I’m fine,” Ajit stammered, clutching his hand. But his vision blurred, and a strange warmth spread from the bite, coursing through his veins like liquid fire.
“You don’t look fine,” Rajesh said, his voice tinged with panic. “You look like you’re about to keel over.”
Ajit swayed, his knees buckling as Dr. Prakash caught him. “We need to get him to the infirmary—now!”
As Rajesh and the professor helped Ajit out of the lab, the snake watched from the shadows, its unblinking eyes glinting eerily before it vanished into the darkness.
The infirmary bed creaked as Ajit Singh stirred, his body drenched in sweat. Outside the small, sterile room, the faint hum of evening traffic drifted through an open window. The bite on his hand pulsed like a drumbeat, its edges faintly swollen and marked with two deep punctures.
Ajit groaned, lifting his head as the world around him wobbled like a heat haze. “Rajesh… where’s Rajesh?”
“Right here, buddy,” Rajesh said, leaning over the bed with a mixture of worry and forced bravado. “You look like you just wrestled a truck—and lost. You okay?”
“Do I… look okay?” Ajit muttered, his voice hoarse.
Rajesh tilted his head. “Honestly? You’re about three shades away from zombie territory. What did that snake have for lunch, plutonium?”
Ajit tried to laugh, but the sound came out more like a wheeze. He shifted, and the room spun. “What did… what did Dr. Prakash say?”
“Not much,” Rajesh replied. “He called the hospital, but they’re all tied up because of that festival accident downtown. Told me to keep an eye on you until they get here.”
Ajit sank back into the pillow, his eyelids heavy. His skin burned, but underneath the pain was something else—a strange, buzzing awareness. It wasn’t just his fever making his senses sharper; it was as if he could hear every rustle of fabric, every shift of Rajesh’s weight on the chair beside him.
“What time is it?” Ajit asked, his voice faint.
“Past eight,” Rajesh said, gesturing toward the clock. “But who cares about the time? What’s important is making sure you don’t start sprouting scales or something.”
Ajit closed his eyes, focusing on the sensations coursing through him. His hands tingled, and his legs felt coiled, tense, like a spring waiting to uncoil. He felt a flutter in his chest, like his heart was beating twice as fast—or maybe twice as hard.
And then it happened.
The smell of hand sanitizer hit his nose like a slap, sharp and overwhelming. The fluorescent lights above seemed to buzz louder, each flicker of the bulb like a gunshot in his ears.
“Rajesh,” Ajit said, his voice trembling. “Something’s… wrong. I can feel everything. The lights… the smell…”
Rajesh frowned, leaning closer. “What do you mean, feel everything? Like, you’re hyper-aware?”
Ajit nodded, clutching his blanket. “It’s like the world just turned the volume up to eleven.”
Rajesh tilted his head, curious. “Huh. So you’ve got super-senses now? What else? Can you taste the air or something?”
Ajit tried to sit up but stopped short as his muscles spasmed violently. His arms jerked involuntarily, and for a brief moment, he felt something slithering under his skin—a rippling motion that sent a jolt of terror through him.
“What the—” Ajit gasped, his breathing quick and shallow.
Rajesh jumped to his feet. “Okay, that’s definitely not normal. You want me to get Dr. Prakash back here?”
“No!” Ajit said sharply, his voice louder than he intended. He took a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm inside him. “Just… just give me a minute.”
Rajesh hesitated, then sank back into his chair, his eyes darting nervously to the bite mark on Ajit’s hand. “Fine. But if you start turning into some snake-dude hybrid, I’m calling Animal Control.”
Ajit groaned, covering his face with his hands. The burning in his body hadn’t stopped, but now it felt different—less like pain and more like potential.
As the minutes ticked by, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted inside him. Whatever the snake had done, it was just the beginning.
The first thing Ajit noticed when he woke up was the silence. The droning hum of fluorescent lights and the faint clatter of the university infirmary were gone. Instead, he was in his dorm room, lying flat on his bed. The events of the previous night came rushing back—the snake bite, the fever, the strange sensations coursing through his body.
“Rajesh?” he called weakly, sitting up. His body felt different, lighter but taut, like his muscles had been rewired overnight.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, wobbling slightly. His hand throbbed faintly where the snake had bitten him, but the pain was dull now, replaced by an odd tingling that radiated up his arm.
The room was eerily quiet. Rajesh’s desk was a cluttered mess, his backpack slung lazily over his chair, but his bed was empty.
Ajit sighed, his gaze drifting to the window. As he moved, his senses sharpened again, just like they had in the infirmary. The sound of footsteps outside the dorm sounded unnaturally loud. He could hear the faint rustle of leaves outside, feel the subtle vibrations of someone walking down the hallway.
“What is happening to me?” he muttered, rubbing his temples.
As he reached for his water bottle, his fingers brushed the edge of the desk, and something remarkable happened.
His palm stuck.
“Wait—what?” Ajit pulled, but his hand didn’t budge. The surface of his skin adhered to the desk like glue. Panicking, he yanked harder, stumbling backward as his hand finally came free.
“Okay, that’s weird,” he muttered, flexing his fingers.
Before he could process what had just happened, another sensation coursed through him—an itch, deep and insistent, that spread through his right arm. He clutched at it instinctively, only for his skin to ripple beneath his fingers.
Ajit froze, staring in horror as his forearm began to change. The skin darkened, shifting to a sleek, scaly texture. His fingers elongated slightly, and his nails sharpened to faint points.
“Oh no,” Ajit whispered. He staggered back, bumping into the wall. His arm was no longer human—it was snake-like, flexible and alien, the scales catching the dim light of the room.
And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the transformation reversed. The scales faded, his fingers shortened, and his arm returned to normal.
“What… what was that?” Ajit said aloud, his voice trembling. He flexed his arm, half-expecting it to morph again, but it didn’t.
A knock at the door snapped him out of his panic.
“Ajit? You awake?”
It was Rajesh.
“Yeah, uh—give me a second!” Ajit shouted, his voice cracking. He quickly examined himself in the mirror, ensuring there were no lingering scales or signs of transformation. Satisfied that he looked normal, he opened the door.
Rajesh strolled in, a steaming cup of chai in one hand and a newspaper in the other. “You look better,” he said, eyeing Ajit up and down. “You’re not, like, sprouting fangs or anything, are you?”
Ajit forced a laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Nope. All good.”
“Good, because the last thing I need is to explain to your mom why her son turned into a snake. Anyway, check this out.”
He tossed the newspaper onto the desk, the bold headline immediately catching Ajit’s eye: Rogue Snake Escapes Lab: Is the University Safe?
“Great,” Ajit muttered. “I’m a headline.”
Rajesh grinned. “Relax. It’s not about you. But seriously, that snake is still out there. Maybe it’s radioactive venom is—what’s the word? Mutating people or something?”
Ajit stiffened, his mind flashing back to the transformation he’d just experienced. “That’s ridiculous,” he said quickly.
Rajesh squinted at him, then shrugged. “If you say so. Anyway, I’m off to grab some breakfast. You coming?”
Ajit shook his head. “Not hungry. I’ll catch up later.”
Rajesh gave him a thumbs-up and left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Ajit exhaled, his shoulders slumping. He looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers again. Whatever was happening to him, it wasn’t over—and he needed answers.
By the time evening rolled around, Rajesh was back in the dorm room, sprawled on his bed with his headphones on. The faint buzz of music leaked out as he flipped through his notes half-heartedly, his phone lighting up every few seconds with new notifications.
Across the room, Ajit Singh sat at his desk, staring blankly at his notebook. The pages were filled with equations and scribbles from the day’s lectures, but the words blurred together, meaningless against the whirlwind of thoughts in his head.
“You’ve been weird all day,” Rajesh said suddenly, pulling off his headphones. He rolled onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. “What’s up? Snake bite still bothering you?”
Ajit’s fingers tightened around his pen. “I’m fine,” he said quickly, a little too quickly.
Rajesh raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Because you didn’t touch your lunch, you skipped the group study session, and you’ve been staring at that notebook like it owes you money.”
“I said I’m fine,” Ajit snapped, then immediately winced at the harshness in his tone. “Sorry. I just… didn’t sleep well last night.”
Rajesh sat up, crossing his legs. “You’re not telling me everything.”
Ajit froze, his pen hovering over the page. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Rajesh said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “you’ve been acting jumpy ever since that snake bite. And don’t think I didn’t notice how you almost ripped the handle off the fridge this morning. What’s going on?”
Ajit’s heart raced. He forced a laugh, hoping it sounded convincing. “You’re imagining things, Rajesh. I’m just a little off, that’s all.”
Rajesh squinted at him, unconvinced. “Uh-huh. And the part where you flinched when I walked into the room earlier? Or how you’ve been gripping that pen so hard it’s bending?”
Ajit looked down, realizing with a start that the pen in his hand was indeed bent at an awkward angle. He quickly dropped it, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Must be defective,” he muttered.
Rajesh stood and walked over to him, his expression serious now. “Ajit. If something’s wrong, you need to tell me. I’m your roommate, your best friend. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
Ajit swallowed hard, the words bubbling up in his throat. Part of him wanted to tell Rajesh everything—the bite, the strange changes, the snake-like arm he’d seen earlier. But another part of him hesitated, unsure how much he could trust anyone, even Rajesh, with something so unbelievable.
“It’s nothing,” Ajit said finally, standing abruptly. “I just need some air.”
Rajesh frowned, stepping back. “Okay, fine. Go brood on the balcony or something. But don’t think this conversation is over.”
Ajit didn’t respond. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, the tension in his chest easing slightly as he stepped out into the cool evening air.
Outside, the campus was alive with activity. Students chatted in groups, the warm glow of lampposts lighting their faces as they laughed and gestured animatedly. Ajit shoved his hands into his pockets and walked aimlessly, his mind racing.
He could still feel the faint tingle in his arm, the lingering remnants of the transformation he’d experienced earlier. Every sound around him seemed amplified—the rustling leaves, the distant bark of a dog, even the hum of a vending machine by the library.
“I need to figure this out,” Ajit muttered to himself.
He stopped by a row of trees near the edge of campus, the shadows deep and undisturbed. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he extended his hand and focused.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, his skin began to ripple again, the dark green scales emerging as his fingers elongated. The snake-like appendage returned, flexing with a life of its own.
Ajit stared at it, equal parts fascinated and horrified. “What am I turning into?” he whispered.
Behind him, a group of students walked by, their laughter echoing through the quiet night. Ajit quickly stuffed his arm back into his jacket, willing the transformation to fade.
Back in the dorm, Rajesh was waiting, arms crossed. “Feel better?”
Ajit nodded curtly. “Yeah. Just needed some air.”
Rajesh gave him a long, scrutinizing look before sighing. “Fine. But if you start hissing in your sleep or shed your skin, you’re going straight to the university lab.”
Ajit chuckled weakly, though his mind was still racing. Whatever was happening to him, he couldn’t hide it forever.
But for now, he’d try.
The bright morning sun spilled into the lecture hall at Manipur University, its rays slicing through the high windows and pooling on the rows of desks. Students shuffled in, their chatter a mix of tired complaints and hurried exchanges about the upcoming midterms.
Ajit sat near the back, slouched in his seat with his hood pulled up. His notebook lay open in front of him, but the pages were blank. His pencil sat idle in his hand as his mind churned with memories of the past few days—the bite, the transformation, the growing awareness of something alien inside him.
“Hey.”
Ajit jolted, looking up to see Padmini, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed.
“You’re in my spot,” she said flatly, gesturing to the desk he occupied.
“Oh,” Ajit said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, didn’t realize.”
He moved to the next seat, but Padmini didn’t sit down immediately. Instead, she studied him for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing. “You okay? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” Ajit muttered, trying to force a smile. “Just tired.”
Padmini didn’t seem convinced, but before she could press further, the professor strode into the room, calling for attention.
“Alright, everyone,” Dr. Meitei said, clapping his hands as he reached the podium. “Let’s get started. Today’s lecture is on the adaptive strategies of venomous snakes in the wild.”
Ajit stiffened at the word “snakes,” his fingers curling instinctively.
“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath.
Padmini glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you? You love this stuff.”
“Yeah, sure,” Ajit said, shifting in his seat.
As Dr. Meitei launched into a detailed explanation of snake venom, its composition, and its applications in modern medicine, Ajit’s body began to betray him. His snake sense tingled faintly, the vibrations of every sound around him growing sharper. He could hear the scratch of pens on paper, the subtle rustle of clothing, and the steady hum of the projector.
The words “neurotoxin” and “muscle paralysis” echoed unnaturally loud in his ears.
Ajit rubbed his temples, trying to drown out the sensory overload.
“Hey,” Padmini whispered, leaning closer. “You sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.”
“I’m fine,” Ajit hissed, then froze as the word left his mouth. It sounded sharper, harsher—almost like a literal hiss.
Padmini leaned back, her eyes narrowing. “Right. Totally fine.”
Ajit looked down at his hands, willing himself to stay calm. But the sensation in his skin—the faint ripple he now recognized as the precursor to transformation—was back.
“Not now,” he muttered under his breath, clenching his fists.
The professor’s voice pulled him back to reality.
“Now, let’s talk about the Naja Radiata—commonly known as the spectacled cobra. It’s a fascinating species known for its… Ajit, are you listening?”
All eyes in the room turned to him.
Ajit blinked, realizing Dr. Meitei had been addressing him. “Uh… yeah. Spectacled cobra. Fascinating.”
The professor raised an eyebrow. “Good. Then perhaps you can explain the significance of its hood pattern during defensive behavior?”
Ajit opened his mouth, his mind racing. He knew the answer—he’d read about it a dozen times—but the sensory overload made it impossible to focus.
“It’s… uh…”
Before he could finish, the pencil in his hand snapped clean in half.
The sound was sharp and unmistakable.
The entire room went silent as Ajit stared at the broken pieces, his heart pounding.
“Everything okay, Mr. Singh?” Dr. Meitei asked, his tone skeptical.
“Yeah, uh… sorry,” Ajit said quickly, shoving the pieces into his bag. “I’ll… get a new pencil.”
The professor frowned but resumed his lecture, the murmurs of curious students fading into the background.
Padmini leaned closer, her voice low. “You’re definitely not fine. What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” Ajit said, avoiding her gaze.
“Sure,” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief.
Ajit sighed, slumping in his seat as the lecture continued. Maintaining normalcy was proving harder than he’d imagined, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before someone—especially Padmini—figured out the truth.
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