The soldiers had long grown used to serving in the middle of an empty, endless field where not a single living person could be found for many kilometers around. Only rare birds, wandering animals, and the wind disturbed the silence.
Service was steady, without incidents, but that was exactly what exhausted them. The guys were bored, homesick, longing for their families, for any human faces at all. No connection, no news, no entertainment — just tents and the eternal waiting that made their ears ring.
Every Sunday they were brought water, food, and letters from home, but the week between those days dragged on painfully long.
Everyone tried to find at least something to do: someone polished their boots until they shone, someone read the same book over and over, someone just sat by the fire in silence, staring into nothing.
One early morning, one of the soldiers — a young, completely inexperienced guy who had recently arrived at the unit — noticed something strange near his tent. On the dry ground, a meter from his boots, a huge black snake had curled into a ring.
It wasn’t hissing, wasn’t attacking — it just watched him. The boy froze, then for some reason didn’t get scared but instead felt pity. The snake’s gaze didn’t seem evil, but rather hungry and tired.
He took out a piece of bread left from dinner and carefully held it out. The snake froze, then slowly stretched forward, took the bread, and disappeared.
When his comrades found out, they only shook their heads.
— Are you insane? — said the senior sergeant. — It’s a snake, it’s dangerous. You can’t feed them.
But the boy only smiled:
— Oh come on, it was hungry. I just helped it.
That was the end of it, and after a couple of days he himself forgot about that strange morning.
But a few days later something terrible happened to that very soldier
In the deep night, when the camp had sunk into silence, a quiet rustling was heard from inside the tent. At first the young soldier thought it was the wind.
But when the sound came closer, he opened his eyes — and froze in horror.
Around him, as if crawling out of the shadows, dozens of snakes slithered in. All of them — the same black ones as the first. They hissed, moved in sync, and it seemed that in their cold eyes there was a flicker of recognition.
He slowly sat up, trying not to make sudden movements, but the snakes had already surrounded him from all sides. He understood that they had come for food and began frantically searching for anything — a cracker, a crumb, any leftover food.
But nothing was left from dinner. And at that moment, when the first snake raised its head and its tongue flicked in the air, the boy realized what was about to happen.
The hissing grew louder, the snakes moved all at once, and began to attack the boy, biting him.
In the morning, when his comrades noticed that the young soldier hadn’t come out for formation, they went to check his tent. His body was lying near the entrance, his eyes open, and on his skin — dozens of small, almost neat bite marks.
There were no snakes nearby, only winding tracks in the dust leading toward the forest.
Since then, no one ever fed wild animals again.