Chapter 1

Rishi plopped onto the sagging sofa in his tiny apartment, cassette in hand, and grinned like a man about to meet his childhood hero. The Flower in the Serpent King's Garden. He hadn't watched it in over a decade, and now—now he was ready to relive the glory.

He pressed play. The familiar opening scene flickered on the screen of his old VHS player. The colors were brighter than he remembered, the music more melodious, and the serpent king... oh, the serpent king...

And then.

Everything went blurry.

The sofa, the cassette player, his legs—they all melted into a swirl of color and motion. Rishi flailed like a fish in a blender. "What the—!" He tried to grab the coffee table but it was gone. He felt himself falling, spinning, tumbling through an endless kaleidoscope of light.

His stomach did that thing. You know, the oh-no-I'm-going-to-puke thing.

Then his eyes snapped open. He blinked. And blinked again.

Nothing looked right. Not the sofa. Not the walls. Not the familiar clutter of his apartment. Instead... thorns. Everywhere. Huge, shiny, spiky, metallic-looking thorns stretching up, out, and sideways like some deranged sculptor had gone insane with pruning shears.

He staggered back, tripping over... nothing? He scrambled to stand, tripping again, arms flailing wildly. "Wha—what the hell is this?!"

He spun in a circle, eyes wide, jaw slack. "Is this... real? Am I dreaming? Did I hit my head? Is this some kind of lucid nightmare?!"

He flailed his hands, poked the air, backed up, and then—almost grazed a thorn with his elbow. He jumped back with a yelp. "OHHHH—!"

His mind raced. Okay, okay. Think. Think. Deep breaths. Rational brain. Wait. That's a DVD... cassette... VHS... the old movie!

His heart skipped a beat. The pieces slammed together. "No... no no no... it can't be... but... oh gods... maybe... maybe I actually... transmigrated into the movie?"

Rishi froze mid-step, staring at the thorns as if they might answer him. "No. That's insane. Totally insane. I am an adult. I have responsibilities! I can't just... jump into a cursed animated garden!"

But then... the only logical explanation—terrifying as it was—took root. Yes. That has to be it. I must have transmigrated into the movie world. I am... inside the thorn garden of the serpent king. Holy... hell.

He staggered backward, clutching his head. "I... I can't believe this. I cannot believe this."

And then, his panic shifted to horror as he finally examined the thorns properly.

These were no ordinary thorns. They gleamed menacingly in the sunlight, jagged and sharp. Even the smallest touch could poison him. His imagination ran wild. One scratch, and I'll swell up for months. Then... slowly... the flesh rots... burns like a three-degree flame... and then... it falls off... slowly... painfully... my fingers... my toes... my—everything!

He staggered backward, waving his arms like a madman, yelling at the air. "Dear heavens! Anyone! Gods! Universe! I'll do anything! I'll—I'll... pay taxes! I'll eat vegetables! I'll watch less Netflix! JUST END THIS NIGHTMARE! I'm so confused!"

Rishi spun in circles, backpedaling, tripping, shouting, flailing, and crying all at once. "I didn't sign up for this! I just wanted nostalgia! I just wanted a childhood movie! THIS IS CRUEL! PURE CRUELTY!"

Then, slicing through his panic, came a hissing sound.

Rishi froze. His eyes went wide, and his body stiffened. That hiss... that's the Serpent King, isn't it? Oh gods... I'm so dead.

From behind a tree, a huge snake slithered out, scales glinting, eyes gleaming with menace. Its head raised, tongue flicking, and Rishi—already flailing like a wet noodle—screamed at the top of his lungs.

His legs gave out. His arms flailed. And with a thump, he fainted face-first into the moss.

Last coherent thought before unconsciousness:

"I am literally going to die... all because of a stupid childhood cassette..."

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