I once heard about a green-eyed monster that dwelled on the outskirts of a town somewhere in the plains of a Mediterranean country a long, long time ago.
I heard that it balanced on a the tapering coil of its lower body, that resembled the body of a snake, and when wasn't slithering from one place to another just like one, stood at a height close to that of a large man.
It had a top heavy body that was covered in a thick coat of matted grey-green fur that was anything but inviting to the touch, and had two horns that protruded menacingly out of its spine upwards. A thin scrawny neck held up its lizard like head that was crowned with another bony spike at the forehead. Its mouth was said to house few but fierce teeth that guarded a tongue that was forked not once (as though that wasn't enough), but two fold. And as for its wide nostrils, they fluttered and flittered with every breath emitting a low rasp that rippled and disturbed the space around it.
But these details seldom stuck in those rare sightings. It was the glaring green eye that was paramount.
It's emerald glare was bewitching, so I'd heard, and no one had ever seen such a deep, fascinating colour ever exist, and never would do so ever again.
They say that despite the unsightly appearance of the monster, the eye itself held such a captivating beauty that any fear that would naturally materialise at encountering a beast as repulsive as this dissipated into welcome paralysis.
And it was with this paralysis that the beast cast it's infamous poison. It was not a poison that ran through its fangs. Nor one that it spat out of its gruesome mouth. It didn't run through your veins, or seep into your skin. It was far, far worse.
It plagued your mind. It planted eggs of doubt, envy and madness. It fleshed out detailed visions that shook its victim to the core, riddled with lies and falsity so calculated and devious there was not much hope of turning a blind eye.
It didn't matter what age, race, or sex you were. You could've been a young boy pining over your friend's marbles, or a young girl who envied her sister's happy relationship, or a mother who is jealous of her neighbours fine linens. It didn't matter. You were all prey to the same green-eyed demon and its blight.
They say its first ever victims were a married couple it had shadowed unnoticed, slithering around their modest house on the outskirts of that Mediterranean town. It had cast the fear of infidelity on the wife after catching her eye as she picked apples from the garden, haunting her with concocted images of her husband's betrayal, of his lust for other women that lived in their town. The monster went as far as to feign strange perfumes that wafted by her nose when her husband passed her, driving her into a rage that bubbled under her skin silently. After that, the slime that had infected her simply fed on itself, snowballing and infecting her senses. Her vision was now distorted, catching inexistent glances between her husband and the inn keeper. She confronted her him time over time, the episodes were long winded and loud, their incessant yells heard throughout the neighborhood, to the pleasure of a low shadow that slithered under the winter logs in the backyard.
They say it wasn't long before the thunder and the roar subsided into a shower of red.
And they were found the next day, murdered by their own hands, but guided by the venom of another. It is rumored that one of the townsfolk, a wood cutter, glimpsed something as it was slithering away leaving a trail of blood, and guided by pure reflex brought down his axe. With a screech that quickly disappeared into the nearby bushes, all that remained was the furry tapered tail of something that was never there.
I've heard that the next time the green-eyed monster was sighted, two golden rings circled its scraggy neck, and although exaggerated in dimension, they say they were the wedding rings of that very same destroyed marriage; a sick token, a bloody keepsake.
I once heard of the one and only green-eyed monster, the one who started all the jealousy-driven woes in the world, all with one long stare of its brilliant green eye.
