Peering over the banister, Aditya squinted into the murky water below, hoping against hope that the flood waters had receded overnight. But something caught his attention—a dark, indistinct shape floating in the water. He leaned closer, heart racing, trying to make out what it was.
“What is that?” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible in the eerie silence of the flooded house. The object was large, sluggishly drifting just beneath the water’s surface. His eyes narrowed as he tried to focus, the dim light making it difficult to see clearly.
Then, in the faint morning light, the truth revealed itself. Its skin was smooth, glistening, and unmistakably scaly. A sudden chill ran down his spine as realization hit him. It was a snake—massive, easily stretching several feet long. And worse, something bulged grotesquely from its midsection.
Aditya’s stomach churned as he understood what he was seeing. The snake had swallowed something—something large enough to create a visible lump in its body. He took a shaky step back, dread creeping in. “What in the world did it swallow?”
Aditya wiped the rain from his brow, gripping the wheel tighter as his SUV rolled over the muddy road. The sky had been a constant sheet of gray for days, and today was no exception. He left work early after the alert, an official warning about the nearby bridge closing.
The floods were getting worse. His priority now was reaching home before the river spilled over. As he turned onto his street, his heart sank. The road outside his house had turned into a shallow river. Water swirled around submerged streetlights and drifting debris, making everything look eerie.
His SUV cut through the floodwaters with relative ease, but the sight of his house, surrounded by rising water, was unsettling. He parked and stepped out into knee-deep water. The cold of it bit through his trousers as he waded toward the front door, feeling the weight of the situation.
Inside, the scene was grim. His grandfather, old but stubbornly independent, was struggling to haul furniture toward the staircase. “The water’s coming in,” his grandfather grunted. Aditya joined him, casting a glance at the rising pool. Their sanctuary was slowly filling with water, threatening everything they owned.
Together, they started moving the furniture upstairs. They worked methodically, taking each item one by one, their pace urgent but careful. There was no telling how much time they had before the water would rise further, so they couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.
After what felt like hours of labor, they managed to move everything important to the upper floor. Exhausted but relieved, they sat down for dinner. Aditya’s grandfather had prepared dinner earlier, and they ate in silence, the sound of heavy rain thudding on the roof a constant reminder of the storm.
The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the walls as Aditya and his grandfather finished their meal. Despite the rising floodwaters, they allowed themselves a brief moment of relief, hoping that by morning, the water would have started to recede. They needed a reprieve, just a little bit of good news to carry them through. But the storm had other plans.
As the night dragged on, Aditya found himself unable to sleep. The oppressive humidity clung to his skin, making it impossible to relax. Every breath felt thick, the air heavy with moisture. The constant rain, once soothing, now felt like a relentless hammering, drumming against the roof without end.
Adding to his discomfort, the storm’s ferocity began tearing at the aluminum sheets on the roof. Every few minutes, a sharp screech would cut through the night as a piece was ripped away, leaving gaps that let the rain pour in. It was as if the storm was determined to strip the house bare, piece by piece. And then there were the alarms.
At some point during the night, the water had risen enough to flood the ground floor, reaching Aditya’s parked SUV. The sudden contact of water with the electronics triggered the alarm, and the shrill wail pierced through the storm. Aditya had hoped it would die out on its own, but it didn’t.
It wasn’t just his car. Throughout the neighborhood, other alarms began blaring as the water seeped into vehicles parked in the street. One by one, the high-pitched sounds echoed through the air, competing with the wind and rain. The constant, ear-splitting noise added to the chaos, making sleep impossible.
Lying awake, Aditya felt the weight of exhaustion pressing on him, but there was no way to shut out the cacophony. The storm, the rattling roof, and the never-ending alarms made it feel like the night itself was against them. Every time the sound seemed to fade, another alarm would trigger, jolting him out of the brief moments when he thought he could drift off.
It was a long, sleepless night. The water continued to pour into the house, creeping closer to where they had retreated. The oppressive air was thick with humidity, and the house itself groaned under the weight of the floodwater. The minutes stretched into hours, and by the time the sky began to lighten, Aditya hadn’t slept a wink.
He finally forced himself to sit up, his body aching from exhaustion. His first instinct was to check the water levels. Stepping cautiously to the top of the stairs, he peered down into the dim light of the submerged ground floor. His SUV, barely visible through the water, still had its headlights flickering from the short circuit. The alarms had mercifully fallen silent, but the damage was done.
The house groaned under the weight of the floodwater, the structure strained by the constant pressure. When Aditya peered over the bannister, he paused. The ground floor was still submerged, the murky water swirling slowly, debris floating lazily just below the surface.
His stomach clenched. The water had risen even further, now only a few feet away from the upper floor. Everything below was lost, drowned in the murky floodwater. Panic gnawed at the edge of his mind, but he pushed it aside. They had to survive, somehow.
“Grandpa, we need to figure out our supplies,” Aditya said as he made his way to the small pile of food they had managed to save. His grandfather, looking frail and shivering from a low-grade fever, sat nearby, staring blankly at the rain through the window. “We don’t have much left.”
Aditya rummaged through the few items they had: a small bag of rice, half a packet of flour, some dried lentils, and some beans. He glanced at his grandfather, then back at the dwindling supplies. “We’ll have to ration this, or it won’t last more than a couple of days.”
They divided their food into tiny portions. It was hardly enough to keep them full, but it would have to do. Their biggest concern was water. The water supply from the well had been polluted by the flooding water, and they were relying on the small amount of bottled water they had left. But it wouldn’t last either.
Aditya had an idea. He climbed onto the roof and dismantled an old rainwater pipe, angling it upward to collect the downpour. As the pipe began to trickle with fresh rainwater, he felt a small surge of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was something. They could drink this, at least for now.
But the storm showed no signs of letting up. The rain pounded relentlessly, and Aditya’s grandfather began to deteriorate. His fever worsened, and he spent most of his time either shivering under the thin blankets they had salvaged or mumbling to himself.
As they sat by the window, trying to stay warm, they spotted something through the rain. A cow was tied to a tree, its body half-submerged in the rising water. It let out a desperate, guttural bellow, its eyes wild with fear. Aditya felt a lump form in his throat. “They can’t leave it there,” his grandfather muttered. “It’ll drown if the water rises any more.”
Hours passed, and the cow’s cries grew weaker. Just when Aditya thought the poor animal was doomed, they heard the low thrum of a boat engine. Through the sheets of rain, an army boat appeared, soldiers leaning over the sides, scanning the area. They reached the cow, cutting the rope that tethered it to the tree, pulling the frightened animal aboard.
“Thank God,” Aditya whispered, watching the scene unfold. The army was still out there, rescuing those they could. He just hoped they’d be next. But rescue wasn’t simple. The army had a system, a priority.
People whose houses had been completely destroyed were rescued first. Aditya understood that—it was only fair. But every time a boat passed by without stopping, his hope dwindled. Their house was still standing, after all, even if it was half underwater.
At one point, a rescue boat came close enough for Aditya to spot the soldiers’ faces. Desperation overtook him, and he yelled, “Please! My grandfather is ill!” waving his arms, but their house sat slightly separate from the other homes. The boat’s engine drowned out his voice, and the soldiers didn’t hear him. They continued on, fading into the mist.
In the house, the floodwaters had risen to the top step of the staircase. Aditya and his grandfather sat in silence, listening to the rain. His grandfather’s fever had spiked again, and he was muttering about how the world was ending. Aditya had heard it all before, the stories of the great floods from his childhood, the end of days, how the rivers would reclaim the land.
“If the water keeps rising, I’ll float away,” his grandfather said suddenly, a strange, feverish glint in his eye. “What do you mean?” Aditya asked, half humoring him, half concerned. “I’ve got it figured out,” his grandfather said. “The drinking water gallons. I’ll tie them to me with the rubber tubes from your spare tires. They’ll keep me afloat. I’ll drift off, away from all of this.”
Aditya shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere, Grandpa. We’ll be rescued before it comes to that.” The fever had clearly taken its toll on the old man, but Aditya couldn’t bring himself to argue. He’d let his grandfather believe in his strange plan if it gave him some comfort. Meanwhile, Aditya continued to check the water levels, praying they wouldn’t rise any higher.
In a desperate attempt to communicate with the outside world, Aditya tried charging his phone using a makeshift dynamo from the ceiling fan. He reversed the motor, manually spinning the blades to generate a small amount of power. It worked—barely, managing to send a quick message to his mother and letting them know that he was safe.
As the water levels rose, Aditya had the funny idea of trying to fish from the balcony of their two-story villa. With the river spilling into their neighborhood, he figured there might be fish in the floodwaters. Using leftover flour as bait, he cast a line into the murky water, sharing a rare moment of humor with his grandfather amidst the dire situation.
But instead of fish, they found small snakes nibbling at the bait. The sight had startled them at first, but then they both burst into laughter. It was a bizarre, unsettling realization that the flood had brought more than just water into their lives. The river had become part of their home, and it had brought its inhabitants with it.
As more time went by everything had turned into a blur of hunger, exhaustion, and waiting. The helicopters flew overhead, occasionally lowering ropes to airlift people to safety. But they hadn’t come for Aditya and his grandfather yet. Each time they heard the sound of the chopper blades, they rushed outside, hoping to be spotted. But their house, still mostly intact, didn’t draw enough attention.
Aditya had been restless, unable to sleep. The rain had lessened slightly, but the house groaned and creaked under the weight of the waterlogged walls. He got up, intending to check the water level again. As he approached the stairs, he noticed something odd—a strange sound, like the soft, sluggish movement of water being displaced.
He squinted into the darkness, peering down the staircase, but it was too dim to see clearly. He thought it might be debris, something floating in from outside. But as he leaned closer, his blood ran cold. The shape wasn’t debris—it was moving, alive.
He backed up slowly, heart pounding, his mind racing with possibilities. What was in their house? He grabbed a flashlight and shined it down into the murky water. That’s when he saw it. A snake. But not just any snake.
It was massive, its body coiled sluggishly in the water, taking up most of the space at the bottom of the staircase. Its skin was slick and glistening, the scales reflecting the dim light in eerie patterns. It must have entered the house through the open door, carried in by the flood.
But something was wrong. The snake wasn’t moving freely. It seemed sluggish, almost stuck. That’s when Aditya noticed the bulge in its body—a large, grotesque lump that distorted the creature’s midsection. The snake had swallowed something, something massive, and now it couldn’t move.
Aditya felt a wave of nausea as his mind raced through the possibilities. What could be so big that even this enormous creature would struggle to digest it? The snake floated helplessly in the water, its body weighed down by whatever it had consumed.
He rushed to wake his grandfather, who was delirious but coherent enough to understand. They both stood by the top of the staircase, staring down at the monstrous intruder. “What could it have eaten?” his grandfather whispered, voice trembling.
Aditya shook his head, unable to answer. They watched in tense silence as the snake struggled, the water swirling lazily around its massive body. Whatever it had swallowed, it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. And neither were they.
The storm outside began to subside, the rain lessening to a light drizzle, but inside their flooded home, the tension was unbearable. The snake’s presence added a new layer of terror to their already precarious situation. The helicopters were still flying overhead, but they had no idea when, or if, the army would come for them.
For now, they were trapped—trapped in a house slowly being consumed by water, with a giant snake blocking their only way out. And whatever the snake had swallowed, it remained a terrifying mystery, lurking just beneath the surface.
The snake wasn’t moving much anymore, but it was certainly alive, its massive body now almost entirely submerged under the murky water filling the house. Every so often, the snake’s body created ripples, sending small waves across the room.
Aditya stood on the terrace, staring up at the sky where army helicopters occasionally flew overhead, conducting rescue operations. Each time he heard the faint whirring of blades, his heart would leap with hope, only to plummet when they flew past.
“Help! Help!” Aditya yelled, his voice cracking under the strain. He tore a strip of red cloth from an old shirt, waving it frantically at the helicopters. He waved until his arms ached, shouting until his throat was sore, but the helicopters were focused elsewhere.
He had started feeling feverish too. His skin burned, and the intense humidity of the flooded house suffocated him, making it hard to breathe. Sweat dripped down his face, mixing with the endless rain that continued pouring in heavy sheets from the dark, stormy sky.
Meanwhile, his grandfather fared slightly better. He had found some antibiotics in one of the upstairs rooms which they took, hoping to fight off the fevers. Slowly, the medicine started to work, easing the symptoms, but their food situation was becoming dire.
They had long since run out of anything substantial to eat. The flood had swept away most of their supplies, leaving them with rice porridge, a small bit of salt, and a few pickled mangoes. Their meals grew smaller each day, barely enough to keep them going.
The water didn’t seem to be receding, and there was no sign of the army bringing rations or rescuing them soon. Aditya sat in frustration, staring at his phone, trying again to charge it using the dynamo from the ceiling fan. It was a desperate attempt.
He had managed to get a small charge, but when he turned it on, the mobile network was still completely down. No calls, no messages—just a blank screen. They were completely cut off, with no way of reaching anyone for help or updates on the rescue.
Aditya’s anxiety grew with each passing minute. The heat, humidity, and lack of food wore him down, both physically and mentally. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something worse was about to happen. And then there was the snake—its presence loomed large.
Though the snake hadn’t moved much, the sound of its occasional thrashing in the water below sent chills down Aditya’s spine. His mind raced, imagining the giant creature slowly making its way up the stairs, its massive body inching closer with every splash.
He knew the snake couldn’t move far—its enormous stomach made it impossible—but the thought of it rising from the water, its massive head appearing at the top of the staircase, filled him with a deep sense of dread. He couldn’t take his eyes off the stairs.
Aditya slumped down on the floor, feeling the cool tiles under his legs as he rested his back against the wall. The hours stretched on, and with the house now mostly empty of food, he found himself obsessing over the smallest details.
Every creak of the house, every splash of water, seemed to echo louder now that the rain had eased a little. His mind wandered, and he began counting things—seconds between raindrops, the number of nails in the exposed beams above, anything to stave off the rising sense of hopelessness.
It was like a slow blur, the minutes stretching into what felt like days. Occasionally, Aditya would stand at the window, looking out at the flooded landscape, watching how eerily still everything seemed in the distance. That’s when his waterlogged villa started to groan around him.
He could feel the house shifting subtly under the weight of the water. The walls had started showing cracks, and the constant rain had seeped into every corner. He knew the house could only hold out for so long.
With exhaustion pressing on him and desperation taking over, Aditya had a reckless idea. He was beyond exhausted, running low on food and water, and the last thing he needed was a giant snake in his home.
His grandfather couldn’t swim, and if the house collapsed or if the snake moved closer, their chances of survival would drop drastically. He grabbed a stick from the attic, a broken piece of furniture leg they had saved, and took a deep breath.
He could barely see the snake through the murky water, but he could hear its occasional splashes as it shifted. The memory of the snake’s massive, coiled body, and the mysterious bulge in its belly, filled him with dread. But hunger and frustration had pushed him to a point of no return.
Carefully, he descended the stairs, holding the stick in front of him, ready to jab it at the snake if it moved closer. His heart pounded, every step magnifying his fear. When he was close enough, he took the stick and poked it into the water, nudging toward where he thought the snake’s body might be.
Suddenly, the water erupted with a hiss. Aditya stumbled back as the snake’s head surfaced, jaws slightly open, eyes narrowing as it hissed a warning. His heart skipped a beat, and he nearly lost his balance, retreating quickly back up the stairs.
The snake, clearly displeased, thrashed in the water for a moment before it settled back down, its head barely visible above the surface. Aditya slumped against the wall, heart racing, realizing that any attempt to move the creature was futile. He’d have to wait, hoping the house would hold out until the army arrived.
His grandfather had watched from the top of the stairs, his expression a mix of fear and resignation. “Best leave it be,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the steady drip of water seeping into the room.
As the hours crawled on, the house continued to deteriorate. Small chunks of plaster had started falling from the ceiling, and the wooden beams groaned under the weight of the waterlogged walls. Aditya constantly glanced at his grandfather, the thought of his inability to swim gnawing at him. They had to hold on; they had no other choice.
Then, just when Aditya was beginning to lose hope, he heard the sound of a boat engine. He scrambled to the terrace, waving the red cloth and shouting until his throat was raw. A small boat carrying army personnel spotted him, and relief flooded through his body. The soldiers anchored and called up to him, assessing the situation.
“We’re here! It’s just the two of us!” Aditya yelled down. One of the soldiers, a captain, shouted back, “The water’s going to start draining soon. We’ll be back to get you both. Just wait—it should only take another hour or two.” Aditya nodded, feeling a small weight lift off his chest, but the relief was short-lived.
“There’s something else!” he shouted back. “There’s a snake in the house. A massive one. It swallowed something and got stuck under the water.” The soldiers exchanged glances, their faces growing serious. Clearly, this was more than just a routine rescue now.
“Do you know what it swallowed?” one of the soldiers asked, his voice tinged with concern. Aditya shook his head. “No idea,” he replied. “But it’s huge. It’s still downstairs.” The soldiers quickly radioed back to their command for guidance.
After another hour of anxious waiting, the water finally began to drain. Slowly but surely, the floodwater that had filled their home started to recede. Aditya watched from the top of the stairs as more of the ground floor became visible, revealing the snake.
The snake was still lying motionless in the corner of the room, its swollen midsection trapped under the legs of the table. When the army returned, they were ready. They brought a veterinarian and a doctor with them, prepared for any situation they might face.
As the soldiers entered the house, they carefully approached the snake, which remained stuck, its massive body barely moving. The veterinarian quickly assessed the situation, deciding on the best course of action. It was clear the snake needed immediate help.
With steady hands, the veterinarian sedated the snake, ensuring it wouldn’t thrash about during the procedure. Once the snake was fully unconscious, the vet began the delicate process of cutting into its swollen belly to extract whatever was causing the obstruction.
Aditya and his grandfather stood nearby, hearts pounding, as they watched the vet work. Every moment felt like an eternity. What had the snake swallowed? Was it a person? An animal? The possibilities were terrifying, each one more gruesome than the last.
After what felt like an eternity, the veterinarian finally pulled something out of the snake’s stomach. It wasn’t a body. It wasn’t even something alive. It was an oversized teddy bear, soaked and soggy, its plush fur clinging to the vet’s gloved hands.
The sight of the soggy plush toy was so unexpected, so absurd, that Aditya couldn’t help but laugh. His grandfather let out a chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. The snake had mistaken the teddy bear for food, likely due to its time submerged in the water.
The veterinarian smiled as she stitched up the snake, explaining how it had probably swallowed the teddy bear thinking it was an easy meal. Luckily, the operation was a success, and the snake would recover in time, much to everyone’s relief after the chaos.
Aditya, still laughing, turned to his grandfather. “Well, I guess we won’t have to worry about that snake anymore,” he said with a grin. His grandfather smiled back, the tension that had hung over them for days finally easing with the storm’s gradual passing.
The army promised they’d be back soon to take them to safety. For now, Aditya and his grandfather were content to wait, knowing the worst was finally behind them. As the skies cleared, the floodwaters receded, leaving their house battered but still standing.
The storm was finally over. The snake had been dealt with, and Aditya felt a sense of peace wash over him. He and his grandfather stood together, watching the sun break through the clouds for the first time in days.