Page 58 of Sweet Touch of Venom

She engulfs down into the black tunnel, leaving me in awe and my mouth nearly open. Fuck, I’m finding myself more and more enthralled by her.

The sound of increased debris scratching below, which means she’s made it. I follow along, dropping through the hole; it’s a good ten-foot width. Not locking my knees, I land smoothly on my feet and look to see Anita already walking ahead. I’m beside her in no time, the tiny pebbles crushing beneath our feet and the echoes of our shallow breaths bouncing off the mildewed bricked walls. The air is clogged, thick and empty, and it’s not because of the grayish color. Light is barely visible, making it difficult to get a clear view of a possible blood trial.

“It’s nice to see there are no rocks down here.” Anita quirks, kicking the pebbles. “Especially since I also saw none when we arrived.” She treads slowly.

I raise a brow and grab my night vision glasses from my gear holster. “I guess the wind must’ve knocked them away.” I know what she’s getting at. Though I won’t admit to her, I came back out the night before and had immense pleasure in chucking every rock I can lift right into the woods.

She nods, grabbing her gear too. “Right. The wind,” she responds softly, flicking her gaze to the side of my face.

I clear my throat. “There.” Happy something came up just in time. I point down at the tiny specks of blood leading down the tunnel. I tighten my hold on the gun, my heart picking up speed from the pleasure of seeing this fucker. I can envision my boot right now, crushing his bone until I hear it snap.

A loud clunk echoes further down the tunnel. I raise my gun quickly.

“I would assume that’s not a rat,” Anita says; her weapon remaining raised.

“Unless that rat became a mutant, then no, it’s not.” My steps slow, one foot in front of the other.

“If that’s the case, then it’ll fit perfectly in your school.”

I slowly turn my head, giving her a dry look. “Very funny.”

She shrugs with a cute smirk. Side by side, we keep walking down the humid tunnel. Looking down and around as I walk, light shuns from a hole above. The moonlight shining through and cascading on the dirt below. I stop putting my arm out. Anita halts, following my gaze.

More blood. Lots of it.

“He’s nearby.” I squat down on my tiptoes, touching the blood and rubbing it between my fingers. Blood hasn’t phased me since the kidnapping. It’s like something sick and twisted snapped in my brain, and the things that make most people gag don’t affect me the same. “He’s not too far away; this blood is fresh.”

A low moan echoes from down the dark tunnel. I slowly stand back up, looking into the darkness. I step toward it, gun raised. My heartbeat exhilarating with anticipation.

“He’s closer than we thought,” Anita whispers, matching my steps like we both trained together for years.

We walk a few more feet before running right into a man gripping his abdomen. I remove my vision glasses to see him through and through. His face paling and perspiration shines, although it’s dark. My guess is he tried to make it to the pole to grip, but his injury to the stomach is unbearable.

I crack a maniacal grin at his pain. “There you are.”

He didn’t notice us creeping up on him; his eyes widen with pure fear once he hears my deep, shrilling voice and sees two people looking sinister as fuck looming from out the shadows of the dark.

He attempts to scoot back, hoping his little leg gestures will help him escape. I let out a laugh at how funny he looks and how he thinks that’ll do something.

“There’s no escaping us, Fred,” Anita says low, in a scary melody. She walks in the opposite direction while I move the other way, looking down at him. He whimpers, trying to lean up, his eyes bulging from his face, skating between us both rapidly.

“Are you him?” He stops, scrunching his face in pain and gripping his belly. He looks back up.

“You’ll find that out soon.”

We both stop in front of him, Anita placing her hand on her hip. I look at my watch, checking the time. “Should I do the honors or you?”

She taps her green colored nail on her chin. “Hmm. I think you got this one.”

I slowly stare back at him, giving a leering smirk. I toss my gun upside down so I can grasp the barrel.

“Wait man wait!” His bloody, shaking hands detaching from his wound to block the hit.

I don’t hear or care about his useless pleas. It only makes me angrier that he chose to beg for his life. So, I slam my gun onto his hand, possibly breaking his fingers. He screams out; the sounds bouncing everywhere. Then I knock him in the head, andhe goes out cold. I want to do more to him right now, but I have something a lot more interesting planned.

I close my eyes, tossing my head back and inhaling a deep breath. Once I’ve cooled myself down, I look over at Anita, who watches me with a pondering gaze. The moon shining in, skating across her face, made her look like an angel sent to my hell. “What now?”

I look down at the knocked-out imbecile. Threading my hand through my hair, I put the gun back in my holster. “I’ll take him back to the compound. And torture him to death,” I say plainly.

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