The White Serpent

It slid through the traffic like a knife. Other vehicles slid out of the way, muttering to themselves in the language of cars, nudging their drivers to be slow, be silent, and avoid its gaze. They knew, in the manner of animals and gods, what it was, and they wanted no part of it.

The slender limousine, pale as bone, slipped along the road. Its tires made no sound. He was close by, the one it sought, but he was always close by. He would have his death, sooner or later. In the meantime, there was always some to spare...