Page 14 of Beautiful Venom

But it never manages to penetrate me. Not the screams, the gurgling of blood, the stench of fear mingled with the absolute realization that they’ve fucked up.

And that it’s the final time they’ll ever fuck up.

“Listen…listen…please hear me out…” the vice-chancellor, Fred, begs on his knees, his belly bulging from between his shirt’s ripped buttons, his ugly purple tie tight, turning his face red.

Jude, Preston, and I asked Fred to join us for a ride after school.

He smiled with delight, thinking we were presenting him with an opportunity. It’s not every day that a mere vice-chancellor gets a private meeting with three Senior Vencor members who’ll become de facto Founder members as soon as they graduate.

And Fred, like any Vencor member, knows that only we who are born into the four founding families are granted the Founder position. So we’ve always held monopoly on the power balance on campus, even if we’re still just Senior members. A position Fred will never reach.

Because instead of the opportunity-filled meeting he expected, we drove him to a warehouse owned by my family, located so far out of town, no one would hear him scream.

My father’s cronies are stationed outside, waiting for us to finish with our fun so they can clean up.

Though, truly, it’s more fun for Jude and Preston than me. I’m only here to finish a ‘decapitation’ mission. Meaning, cut the head off a snake that’s starting to consider biting its master.

Vencor’s power, aside from strong business relations between the four founding families, is all about control. If there’s an opportunity, not only do we seize it, but we also eliminate anyone who forms any type of obstacle.

It’s a secret society that’s highly dependent on its Founder members and their connections. But unlike any other society, it’s not exactly a brotherhood, and internal fighting among the four founding families to snatch the upper hand is common.

Senior members, the highest position any outsider can reach, are more primed to take upper positions in society like senators, leaders of political parties, or controllers of military and financial complexes. Their job is to grow Vencor’s connections and serve its goals. They usually have Members catering to them, doing their bidding, and keeping an eye on them in case they go awry.

It’s not unheard of for a Member to become a Senior for disclosing the betrayal of a previous Senior he worked for.

Since it’s impossible for anyone not born to a founding family to achieve a higher rank, Preston, Jude, and I are anomalies on campus. We hold power over the team, and everyone at Graystone University bows down to us.

Today’s mission is one I handpicked for myself, so the other two didn’t need to join, but then again, Jude has developed a pesky addiction to killing, and Preston suffers from an incurable case of bloodlust.

As Senior members, we’re actually the ones who assign those lower than us in rank with these types of missions, and our role is to supervise from the shadows, only intervening if things spiral.

But I’ve always liked being hands-on. I don’t trust anyone else to finish the job as efficiently as I do.

“Hear what exactly?” I lean back in a metal chair across from Fred, leisurely wiping my gun with a cloth and making sure it’s in his field of vision the whole time. “That you’re dealing drugs on campus behind our backs?”

“It was only a one-time thing…please…I have a family,” he begs, droplets of sweat gathering on his upper lip and oily nose.

“Then you should’ve thought of that family before you crossed us.” I stand up. “No one crosses Vencor. You’re only a little tool to be used. It’s bad form when you start believing you have agency. We do the thinking, not you.”

“I promise I’ll never do it again if you give me another chance.”

“Don’t be naïve. There are no second chances. One mistake and you’re out.”

“Especially when you thought you could get away with it.” Jude slides behind Fred, grabs his tie, and tugs him so far back, I’m surprised his neck doesn’t snap.

“The audacity is sending me.” Preston kneels in front of Freddie, rolling the handle of his knife between his fingers. “News flash. Nothing escapes us. You can hide, but you can’t run.”

“It’s you can run, but you can’t hide,” Jude tells him.

“Well, I meant it the other way around.” Preston presses the knife close to Fred’s neck, and the man holds his breath. Whether it’s due to Preston’s knife or the way Jude is strangling him, I can’t tell.

“That’s not how it works. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Ha. The pan calling the kettle black.”

“The pot calling the kettle black, not pan.”

“Same fucking meaning.” Preston throws his hands back, slashing Fred’s throat in the process. Blood gushes out like a fountain, spraying both of them with red. Their faces, hair, clothes.

---