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PART I:    THE MAN WITH A BURDEN

Two days after the explosion of the medical research institute of Dr. Hayes from Cairo, long after the local authorities have given up on finding any survivors through the wreckage, a black limo parked outside of the site and behind its wheel, a woman wore sunglasses even if outside it was a pitch black night and the lights on that whole street were suffering malfunctions due to their arrival. On the frame of her glasses, a symbol made out of two mirroring triangles shone its crimson while she waited for the people she was ought to transport.

Those people were three in number. Moritz was accompanied, per say, by two others: a man, looking through the wreckage using a device similar to a dosimeter and a woman, posted in a military discipline beside Mortiz, sitting on his plastic, foldable chair and leaning into his walking cane still.

He sighed deeply, looking at the wasteland which this institution became overnight.

"Is this what happens when we forget our roots, when we rush in...?" He spoke, mouth dry and teeth clicking from a constant shiver he had these days. His crooked legs were looking thinner than ever, even if propped in a costume ironed to a line, supposed to make him appear normal. "No," he disapproved in a long exhale, "this is what happens to all of us when our idea fails to bring justice to our founder's vision. He's a cruel burden, a vengeful ancestor to have."

Chewing on an empty mouth, Moritz turned to look up at the woman beside him, even if she didn't even cast a second-long glance down at him. She wasn't allowed and he knew.

"He's the one you have to thank for what the Red Room became, you know," Moritz pointed out. "That's how you know he was a real evil son of a bitch. But, his vision... Oh, to think there could ever be a reckoning on this filthy planet and that the best of the best would fairly live to see the Heavens? That is worth this pain and this constant fear. It is a curse, to lead O.M.N.I.U.M.-"

"Found it!"

"Ah," Moritz smiled brightly at the sound of the man announcing his action of stopping the device and bending over, digging his hand through ash and dirt until he willingly grasped his demise: Dr. Hayes' ring. "The Kiss of Death. It's Oleg Montez's formula," Moritz sighed in awe, watching greedily as the man fought the convulsions in his body, fought the hallucinations of the poison and rushed to bring the ring to his higher up.

"His gift to us and the ultimate burden which we must carry and use until the vision is fulfilled and those twelve minds reach the stars," he narrated rather absently while his hand, the one not gripping his walking cane, reached forward, a basket waiting for the goods. And like a teardrop, the man let the ring fall into the waiting hand, right before stepping back and collapsing on the ground.

The woman beside Mortiz moved her hands from behind her back and pointed her gun down. One bullet, through the skull, put the man out of his misery.

"I have trained my entire life to withstand the venom," Moritz inhaled sharply, sliding the ring on his finger. "Now it is time to embrace it."

An excruciating shiver went through his deformed bones and got him to stand up. His knuckles turned white over his cane, but biting down on his tongue, he made his first step over the corpse and back to the limo. "Come along. We've got work to do."

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PART II:    A WHISPER IN THE CROWD

Airports are busy places, especially in tourism oriented areas. Chatter everywhere, the sound of luggage getting dragged along hurried steps or annoyingly slow strolls past food courts, expensive shops and cues in front of ticket machines or passport checks. The merry group of seven people were waiting in the line designated to those passport checks, a one last step before they'd hurry to claim their luggage from a way too long flight.

Agent W decided to remain at the back of this unexpected group. Never in his life would he have expected to be part of it. The Defenders were there, along with the sorceress not long ago he had to protect and with the current chief of the mystical city of K'un-Lun.

The cue was moving slow.

It was as if the universe wanted them to still have time to breathe before stepping into the sunlight and bathing in warmth while golden beaches opened their welcoming arms to them.

It wasn't a shock that when his phone vibrated, Agent W reached into the pocket of his beige pants and pulled out the old thing. He may have worn a colorful, classic vacation shirt, with short sleeves and a few loosened up buttons, but that phone in his hand was a heavy brick which only secret agents of his caliber still used.

He received an email at that moment, from none other than Tony Stark. Pretty much, the last person he would have expected to keep in touch with after SHIELD made the connections a few years ago, after the fallout of the Hero Control Team.

"Used your credentials to get past FRIDAY and into our satellite system. Do they ring any bells?" Attached to that highly accusatory message were two files and a couple of pictures. One of the pictures was badly lit and blurred enough to make it clear it was taken by a phone. The others were screenshots of the activity made inside the system during the theft which happened at Stark Industries less than a month ago.

Agent W moved one step ahead with the cue, but his attention was fully at the mail. He recognized the etiquette used during the hacking.

Then he opened the files. Criminal records for Clara Carita and Marc Spector.

Agen W sighed, "What have you gotten yourself into now, Grizzly?" Worry darkened his features, but before he could place the phone back in his pocket, a woman's hand came over it and took it from his grip.

Despite his past activity, he had no desire to be violent in return. Not with her. Sierra Harss, the sorceress in this holiday group smiled brightly at Agent W, "What did I tell you about conducting business on this trip?"

"Not to?" Agent W raised his eyebrows innocently. "I wasn't going to answer that email, ma'am."

"Of course, you were just actively worrying about it," Sierra rolled her eyes and returned the phone to him, falling in step to remain beside him. From back there, she could take a look at the whole group and sigh with true relief. After the exhaustion of fixing the multiverse and bringing Peter Parker back home... This was a well deserved holiday for her.

"Excited for the engagement?" Agent W whispered. He gave her but a gentle nudge while finally tucking that phone back in his pocket. "Come on, ma'am, you cannot possibly look at all your friends being invited on this holiday and not think Danny is finally getting the courage to ask the question."

"Can't believe everyone on this trip knows about this already," she giggled.

"He ain't particularly good at being discreet," Agent W shrugged.

Sierra's eyes remained for a second longer, looking at the blonde hair of her lover. "Well... I guess I am excited for it. We do deserve that, after all, don't we?" Danny turned around, feeling her gaze on the back of his head and their shared smile brightened the atmosphere enough to vanquish all of Agent W's worry as well. They were bright, these two... so bright to be around that it was impossible to not feel the allergy of happiness getting to you.

The cue moved forward again.

Only this time, it was the young sorceress who remained behind.

"Sierra!" A voice she didn't necessarily recognize seemed to call for her through the rushing crowd of the airport. She turned around, looked over at the masses. An awfully bad feeling grew in her stomach while her gaze shortly narrowed.

But she didn't let that feeling linger. Otherwise, she would block the cue.

Sierra Harss rejoined her group of friends while they passed a sign: "Welcome to Tahiti".

•🌙•

You have read
" VENOM "

Thank you, for everyone who read this book.
Every vote and every comment have made
each and ever single day I spent writing my
heart out in this worth it. The importance
this characters have in my life grew the
value I placed on giving you all a worthwhile
story to either enjoy simply, like a warm embrace,
or ponder over deeply, in the safety of the night.

Sometimes, our greatest battle is with our own
minds and whether we fight that alone or with
aid, just know, this is a battle than can be won.
It is okay to ask for help and it is okay to learn
your way out of solitude in your own time.

Thank you!
-lxcifer / izabela

•🌙•

Clara Carita and The Horsemen will return.

If you wish to further support me, my writing and this series in particular, pleade consider buying me a coffee through the link in my bio.
❤