Vince the Viper's Valiant Victory E-Book

Kelly Johnson

• Herausgeber: Kelly Johnson
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 90

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Vince the Vipers Valiant Victory tells the story of a small, unassuming viper named Vince who lives quietly in a bustling jungle, feeling overlooked and longing to prove his bravery. When a sudden, fierce storm threatens the jungle and its creatures, Vince faces his deepest fears and discovers that true courage is not about size or strength but about the heart and actions one takes in moments of need. Through helping a vulnerable baby bird caught in the storms fury, Vince embarks on a journey of self-discovery and bravery, showing that even the smallest creatures can achieve great and valiant victories.

Leseprobe

IMPRESSUM

Vince the Viper’s Valiant Victory

Author: Kelly Johnson

© 2025 Kelly Johnson.

All rights reserved.

Author: Kelly Johnson

Contact: 903 W Woodland Ave, Kokomo, IN 46902

Email: [email protected]

Disclaimer

This eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: The Quiet Jungle

Chapter 2: The Sudden Storm

Chapter 3: The Lost Baby Bird

Chapter 4: The Dangerous River

Chapter 5: Meeting New Friends

Chapter 6: The Dark Cave

Chapter 7: The Forest Fire

Chapter 8: The Great Rescue

Chapter 9: A Hero’s Welcome

Chapter 10: Vince’s Valiant Victory

Title: Vince the Viper’s Valiant Victory

Author: Kelly Johnson

Chapter 1: The Quiet Jungle

Deep inside the heart of a vast, emerald jungle lived a little viper named Vince.

He wasn’t the kind of creature that drew much attention. Unlike the towering kapok trees that reached boldly into the sky or the trumpeting elephants that strolled proudly along the jungle trails, Vince was small and slender—his body coiling gracefully like a ribbon of green silk. His scales shimmered a gentle, glistening shade of jade under the dappled sunlight, sometimes catching glints of gold when he slithered over a patch of moss or near a pool of water.

Vince made his home beneath a leafy canopy, hidden in the cool shadows of the underbrush. His nest was cozy—a bed of soft leaves and petals tucked between twisting vines and the thick roots of an old, gnarled tree. Butterflies sometimes drifted lazily past, and beetles occasionally stopped by to chatter about the weather or the ripest fruits. But mostly, Vince kept to himself.

The jungle itself was a place of wonder. It pulsed with life: birds flitted between branches in bursts of color, monkeys leapt and played in the treetops, and cicadas buzzed like tiny violins in the afternoon heat. The breeze carried the scents of blooming orchids, ripe mangoes, and the earthy perfume of wet soil. Every creature had its part to play—every chirp, growl, croak, and rustle adding to the song of the jungle.

And yet, Vince often felt like a single note in a grand, echoing symphony.

He would watch the lions from afar, their roars booming like thunder through the trees. He admired the deer that danced over fallen logs with grace, their legs moving like whispers of wind. Even the old tortoises, slow as they were, held a kind of quiet dignity, their every step purposeful and wise. The jungle respected them, listened to them, noticed them.

But Vince… he wasn’t sure if anyone noticed him at all.

In the stillness of morning, when the dew clung to the grass and the sky glowed with a soft orange hue, Vince often found himself curled beneath his favorite fern, gazing up through the treetops. He listened to the parakeets chirping cheerfully above, the distant howl of a gibbon, and the gentle rustle of a breeze stirring the branches.

“Why am I so small?” Vince whispered one morning, his voice barely louder than the wind. “I wish I could be big and strong like the others. I want to be brave. I want to make a difference.”

A beetle nearby paused mid-scurry and looked up, antennae twitching. “You don’t have to be big to be brave,” he offered in his tiny voice before disappearing beneath a leaf.

Vince blinked, surprised by the beetle’s words. But they clung to him like morning mist.

Still, doubts weighed heavily on the little viper. He imagined what it might be like to tower above the trees, or to charge through the jungle with a roar so loud the clouds trembled. Would the others look at him differently then? Would they finally see him?

Even so, Vince’s heart was full—not just of dreams, but of something deeper. A longing. A spark. A feeling that, maybe someday, he could do something meaningful. Not because of how big he was, or how loud his voice could be, but because of who he truly was inside.

He dreamed of adventure. Of slithering along winding paths never taken. Of helping those in need. Of showing the world that even a small snake could do great things.

That morning, as the sun climbed higher and painted golden streaks across the canopy, Vince took a deep breath of the warm, jasmine-scented air. Somewhere in the distance, a rumble of thunder rolled across the sky.

Change was coming.

And though he didn’t know it yet, Vince was about to begin the greatest journey of his life—a journey that would test his courage, forge new friendships, and teach him what it truly meant to be brave.

Not just brave for a viper.

But brave for anyone.

Every day, Vince watched as the bigger animals showed their strength and courage. The elephants protected their young, the monkeys swung fearlessly through the branches, and the birds soared high, fearless of the sky. Vince longed to be like them, but he worried that being small meant he would always be overlooked.

One afternoon, Vince slid out from his hiding spot and ventured toward the jungle clearing. Sunlight poured through the trees, lighting up patches of bright green grass and wildflowers. Nearby, a group of animals gathered around, chatting and playing.

Vince’s heart beat fast as he slithered into the sunlit clearing, hoping maybe—just maybe—someone might notice him today. His slender body wove between low ferns and clumps of wildflowers, his emerald scales catching little flecks of golden light. But as he drew closer, it became clear that, once again, the jungle had its eyes elsewhere.

The monkeys were swinging from vines in the upper branches, shrieking with laughter as they played their usual game of tag. Their long arms stretched effortlessly between the trees, and their giggles echoed like music through the leaves. Near the center of the clearing, a mighty lion lay stretched out in the sun, his golden mane rippling with each breath. He yawned with a rumbling roar, then gave a lazy flick of his tail. A few smaller animals gathered near him, listening to one of his stories about chasing away a leopard that dared cross his territory.

No one looked at Vince.

No one even seemed to notice he was there.

He paused awkwardly at the edge of the gathering, unsure of whether to join or slip away. But before he could decide, a group of parrots swooped down in a rainbow-colored flash, squawking about a mango feast near the riverbank. The other animals cheered and began to follow the parrots, the clearing emptying as quickly as it had filled.

Vince sighed. He hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t even made a sound.

He curled up beside a smooth, sun-warmed rock and lowered his head. The jungle suddenly felt much quieter now—not because it was actually silent, but because he felt so far away from everyone. So small.

“Maybe I’m just meant to be invisible,” he murmured to himself, watching a line of ants march by with bits of leaves on their backs. “Too quiet, too little, too easy to forget.”

His heart ached—not in a loud, crashing way, but in a soft, aching way that crept in like dusk. He didn’t want to be the loudest or the strongest. He just wanted to matter. To be seen. To be part of something.

Yet even in that quiet sadness, Vince’s dreams refused to fade. They glimmered gently inside him, like fireflies under a moonless sky. No matter how invisible he felt, his heart still pulsed with hope, stubborn and bright.

“I will show them,” he whispered with a flicker of resolve. “One day, I’ll do something big. I’ll be brave… no matter how small I am.”

Just as Vince was about to slip away into the underbrush, a gentle rustle came from the bushes nearby. He froze, head tilted. Then a delicate voice called out like a bell carried on the wind.

“Hey, little viper! Why so glum?”

Vince turned and blinked in surprise. Hovering just above the petals of a red hibiscus was a butterfly, her wings shimmering like stained glass in the sunlight. Shades of sapphire, lavender, and violet glowed with every graceful flutter.

“I… I was just thinking,” Vince said, trying to hide the tremble in his voice.

The butterfly drifted closer, landing softly on the tip of a fern. Her antennae wiggled kindly.

“Thinking can be a good thing,” she said. “But your face looked so cloudy, like a storm was brewing inside.”

Vince hesitated, then opened his heart. “I just wish I could be brave like the big animals. Everyone always notices them. No one ever sees me.”

The butterfly tilted her head thoughtfully. “Bravery isn’t about being big or loud,” she said. “It’s about what you do—even when you’re scared. Sometimes the bravest hearts are the quietest.”

Vince blinked. “But what if I never get a chance to be brave?”

“Oh, you will,” the butterfly said, her voice soft as silk. “The jungle always gives each of us a moment to shine. You just have to be ready when it comes. And trust me—when it does, your courage will be brighter than any roar or leap.”

A tiny smile crept onto Vince’s face. He hadn’t expected someone to say exactly what his heart had been longing to hear.

“Maybe one day,” he said quietly, “I’ll find that chance.”

The butterfly nodded. “And when you do… you’ll show them all what real bravery looks like.”

With a last flutter of her iridescent wings, the butterfly took off into the breeze, twirling and dancing through the shafts of sunlight like a living jewel.

Vince watched her disappear into the trees. And though he was still alone in the clearing, something inside him had changed. The heavy feeling in his chest had lifted just a little, replaced by a small but steady flicker of excitement.

The jungle was peaceful now. The sky was calm, the breeze gentle. But Vince could feel it in his bones—something was coming. Something new.

And this time, he would be ready.

With a quiet shake of his tail and a final glance at the empty clearing, Vince turned and slid back into the green shadows. The jungle swallowed him up in swirls of leaf and vine, but this time, he didn’t feel invisible.

He felt hopeful.

He was small. He was quiet.

But his dreams were mighty.

And his heart was already learning how to be brave.