"This is so badass," thought the snake. The skull was smooth and warm, and the socket a tight fit, but it felt good against her scales. She wished she could see herself from above, slithering in and out of the skull, as if she was a bird hunting herself below. "Fuck you, birds!" she thought. "Can't get me in here, can you?"

She had no outer ears, but her inner ears worked just fine, and she could detect vibrations through bone conduction, too, which was pretty metal when you thought about it. If she could, she'd start a band. Think of the album covers! Her muscular body looming out of the skull, her face close to the camera. Think of the dorm room posters! She had no hands, though, and wasn't even the kind of snake with a rattle.

Other snakes might say that she was being disrespectful. "That skull was a human being," they'd say. "Your new home is where it kept its thoughts and feelings. Everything that made it unique from all the others." But while some of those humans kept safe distance, others happily decapitated snakes with spades. Besides, ever heard of memento mori? Death is inevitable. Skulls help humans remember that – even more so when there's a motherfucking snake crawling through the eye socket.

She curled up in the skull, wound up taut, scales pressing on scales. She was like a supervillain in a secret lair carved out of a live volcano. She could almost feel its heat. Despite herself, she wondered about the meat that'd filled this space before her. What if someone walked around with her in its head instead? Would anyone know the difference? "Hello," she practiced. "How are you? I am well. I am human." She flicked her tongue like a passing thought. "I, too, will die one day."