Page 17 of Sweet Touch of Venom

Chapter 6

Venom

Location:

Joe’s house

Operation: Kill

Ileave my marks on most of my victims. But each one ofthemwill get my mark.

‘V.’

So even if they find out what’s happening to their men, and they attempt to flee with my scar, I will always find them. The next night, after scoping him out at the bar, the night before, I attacked. I could’ve done at that moment, but something felt off.

I spotted two similar black trucks, which are odd to have in the same parking lot. Same color, yes. Same type of truck. No.

And two, he also had some lady with him tucked around his slimy arms. I don’t need witnesses, and I’ll rather not catch him getting his rocks off.

So, I silently invited myself into his house, which was gray but surprisingly clean. The only thing out of place was a plethora of cigarette buds in an ashtray on the coffee table. Which is a shame because he’s killing himself from the inside out, when I’ll be the one taking care of that for him. It won’t be cancer-ridden sticks destroying him, but me.

The couch showed signs of wear and was positioned in a way that made it obvious it was where he laid. Soon as he walked into his house, I throat punched him, when he fell to the ground, I took that moment to press my boot into his back as he gagged and gurgled, desperate for air.

Before he could get any air out or any relief of breath, I whipped out my knife, slicing him from his nape and all the way to his low lumbar. His death screams roared out. Maybe he should’ve chosen to live in a neighborhood and not on empty land. Then everyone would hear his cries for help. But the best part is knowing that you’re crying for a mercy that will never be granted.

It works in my favor.

“Enjoy your journey to hell.” I kicked him over, then plunged my knife into his throat. The crimson splattered up and hit my face, the warm goo dripped down my cheeks, eyes, and above my upper lip. My stomach twisted with nausea. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth to stop the gag.

It was right at the base where the acid lay, making its way up.

I may be a killer, but I’ll never get used to the feel of someone else’s blood on me. Unless it’s mine, of course.

I swallowed it down. I hate it, but I did love seeing his eyes widen, probably wondering ‘why me?’ His hands flew to his throat as my venom stung and invaded his artery, infesting itself into his streams.

Now he was truly being eaten from the inside out. The idiot continues to writhe and squirm like a fish craving a bit of air, but instead I placed my hand onto his cold, sweaty cheek soothingly.

“Shhh. It's okay, you’re just dying. That’s all.”

That's when I went to work, grinning the entire time as I carved my symbol into his back. My smile was genuine as I glanced down at my handy work outlining his puffed skin. “‘V’ marks the spot.”

The last word he gets after stringing him to his tree in his backyard upside down. My blade is so sharp, it was easy to stencil in another letter in the front. If I’m honest, I’ll say it added a bit of life to him over the ugly ass tattoo on his chest. A symbol that I didn’t bother looking further at.

I’ll say that wasn’t easy, and my back ached from tying his feet to the ropes, then pulling it up from the tree branch. His disgusting, dark red blood spilled to the ground, draining from him like molasses. A pool of blackened crimson formed underneath, almost sending him off to hell’s home.

No matter how much my muscles burned, it was so Goddamn worth it.

After that wonderful achievement, the next night I move on to my next victim. Tractor. He lives in the slums of Hollow City, tucked into the dark pits where all the crime and drug dealers hang out. Worn out buildings with broken shades and barbed windows resemble the true meaning of rundown. It’s ridiculous that he retrieved this money from taking people to still resort to living like this?

The wind brushes under and through my thick hoodie, the material not giving the warmth that I need. I stuff my hands inside the opening pocket, cupping my fingers together to heat them. Winter is my favorite season, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy the cold air that comes with it.

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