The night draped the city in a shroud of impenetrable darkness, its secrets concealed beneath the faint, distant glow of streetlights that cast eerie, elongated shadows. Poison, a figure of malevolence, lingered within the obscurity of an alleyway. Her emerald-green hair framed her face like a sinister halo, and her glasses gleamed with hunger. She was the ruler of the night, the empress of poison, and tonight marked the expansion of her sinister empire. Around her, a gathering of gangsters, low-lives, and the criminally insane stood, their expressions ranging from fearful apprehension to unwavering loyalty. The mere presence of Poison was enough to send shivers through their spines. She hadn’t had much hand in assembling her gang. That was more of Ethan’s job but they heard more than enough about her to know that the title Maneater wasn't just for reputation.
"Listen closely," Poison's voice sliced through the stillness, a venomous whisper that resonated with a chilling edge. Her gang members listened closely, their eyes locked on her, their hearts beating with a turbulent blend of fear and anticipation. "Tonight, we are here for one purpose and one purpose only. To get what has always been ours." Running a criminal organization requires funds. Funds that not everyone was happy to lend out to criminals.
She raised her hand, "Let’s get this done." There was no rousing speech. Poison saw little reason to inspire them over a task as small as this. Nods of agreement rippled through her gang, their readiness on visible display. As they approached the Slangin’ Kings' hideout, the palpable tension in the air thickened. It was an ordinary but high-profile bar. Plenty of the Slangin’ Kings were seen heading in and out of this place. Tonight, it would crumble and be taken under new management. With a signal from Poison, her men surged into action, moving like a violent wave, their movements loud and uncoordinated. Guns raised in their hands, and the night ruptured with the deafening roar of gunfire. Bullets sliced through the air, shattering liquor and sending glass flying everywhere.
The Slangin’ Kings, caught unaware, scrambled for cover, their panicked shouts drowned by the relentless barrage of bullets. Yet, Poison's gang remained unrelenting. Poison couldn't deny the ruthless efficiency of human weaponry. The ease with which it ripped and tore through the weak bodies of humans was rather impressive. The gangsters fell like sacks of meat, their lives extinguished with cold, mechanical precision.
However, as she watched her victims crumple to the ground, another feeling welled up inside of her. The gun provided a peculiar distance, a layer of separation between her and the lives she ended. There was no visceral connection, no intimate confrontation with the irrevocability of death. Poison had always favored the personal touch, the up-close and intimate method of taking a life despite being a Poison daemon. Her claws, infused with deadly poison, allowed her to feel the vitality drain from her victims, to peer into their eyes as they confronted their impending demise. It was a romantic intimacy she savored. While she could still witness the terror in her victim's eyes, with their desperate pleas for mercy echoed in her ears. There was a difference as one was only seconds while the other could last as long as she wanted it to.
Death and terror filled the bar. Poison couldn’t keep herself from smiling as the delicious aroma wafted into her nose. But she didn’t lose control as things weren’t yet finished. As her men finished off the Slangin’ Kings, Poison made it to the back of the bar. She opened the door to the small office that should be back here and was greeted with multiple rounds from the man in charge of Slangin’ Kings. Her claws stretched and moved as she effortlessly blocked the bullets with each individual nail, trimming them. Without missing a beat, she closed the door behind her while doing this as he unloaded all of the bullets in the magazine in terror at what he was seeing.
“What the fuck are you bitch?! What the fuck!? What the fuck?!” His gun clicked uselessly as he continued to pull the trigger.
“Something beyond what your little fragile mind could ever understand.” Poison slowly swayed her way over to the man hiding behind his desk.
“Why the fuck are you doing this to me? I never stepped on anyone’s toes. All I wanted was a little piece of the pie myself. Those costumed freaks and whatnot made this city free real estate for scumbags like us! Don’t you think it’s a little fucking much to try and kill all of us?!” He began babbling to himself.
“Your fear is delicious…” Poison reached down to caress his face.
His fear overrode any logical action he may or may not have made when coming face to face with an actual monster in human skin. He used the pistol in his hand to attack the she-monster in front of him. The grip of the gun smashed across Poison’s chin but did little to stop her innate daemon instincts. A terrified, helpless prey was the most delicious to a daemon.
Her claws easily punctured through his skin as she let loose some of her restraints. Her extended nails reached deep into his chest as she tenderly scratched his rapidly beating heart. “Shh, shh, shh… It’s going to be over soon my dear…” Blood was spilling from out of his mouth as he tried to garble some words.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The last thing to run across Tyrone’s mind was that maybe it wasn’t so bad to go out by a bad monster bitch like this… Poison pierced his heart and pulled her claws out of his chest. She sighed as she wouldn’t get to enjoy this meal until she had everything situated here. The humans couldn’t get wind of her true origins, not even the slightest bit. While fear had its uses for a leader, there was a limit to its influence she noticed.
Amidst the chaos and carnage, Poison's gang emerged victorious with few casualties. The Slangin Kings were mostly wiped out as the corpses of its members were scattered around them. Poison didn’t give any thought to the members that weren’t present at the bar. Ethan said there was supposed to be a meeting here for all the important members of the gang, so if they weren’t here, they weren’t important. Poison turned to her gang. Her green eyes were as beautiful and menacing as ever. "I’ll deal with the bodies," she informed them. "You all head out and return to your homes. Next time you all report to work, Ethan will have your pay ready. Are there any questions?"
Her gang members shook their heads as they looked forward to payday tomorrow. With their boss at the helm, they stood poised to get paid for little risk, one job at a time. All they had to do was follow her directions, and they got paid! Who cared if they had to hurt, kill, or commit crimes here and there? Bills didn’t care about your circumstances. Families and people needed to eat! And money was the only way to do that.
----------------------------------------
Krey At News began a special report in the dead of night, the flickering glow of the studio's lights casting eerie shadows on the concerned anchor's face. "Ladies and gentlemen, we bring you a startling turn of events tonight—another dark, formidable gang has emerged right in the heart of Krey's criminal underworld. A new, mysterious gang has surfaced in our city, which has slowly been reviving and eliminating crime rates, creating a storm of uncertainty and fear.” She looked into the camera.
“This unknown gang, as yet unnamed, has swiftly risen to notoriety through their audacious and merciless criminal actions. In recent weeks, reports of brutal clashes and territorial disputes have flooded our city's streets, leaving law enforcement agencies grappling to maintain control. As we delve into the depths of this unfolding story, the identity and motives of this enigmatic gang remain shrouded in secrecy. Will we have to rely on our local heroes to save the day yet again? Or will our law enforcement finally step up and do their jobs? We don’t know, but we hope to find out sometime soon! We urge citizens to exercise extreme caution and promptly report suspicious activities. Be careful when walking at night, and stay safe, Kreyians. Our news team will continue to monitor this developing situation closely. We implore you to stay vigilant and stay tuned for further updates on the rise of this shadowy, enigmatic gang in the heart of Krey.
----------------------------------------
In the aftermath of the successful job, Poison found herself seated in the bloody office chair of the rival leader. The air hung heavy with the acrid scent of gunpowder, blood, and other fluids. The once relatively decent bar now lay in disarray, its walls scarred by bullet holes, its floor littered with shattered fragments that shined in the dim light, and splintered wood and debris littered the floor.
Ethan, the young man standing in front of Poison, was lost in her eyes. He possessed a timid demeanor, his fair features accentuating his youthfulness. His soft brown eyes held a hint of shyness, which starkly contrasted the intensity radiating from Poison. As he stood in front of her as she and the fox elegantly ate the corpses of the dead gangsters from the bar, the only thought going through his mind was how amazing she looked.
Poison's voice cut through his daydreaming. "Our next move is crucial," she said, her gaze unwavering. "We gained some extra capital, but we need to seize this momentum and solidify our control over this city." Ethan nodded, his eyes never leaving her. "I understand," he replied, his voice soft but resolute. "What's our next plan?"
Poison leaned closer, her glasses catching the faint glimmer of shattered glass on the floor. "We need to gain control over resources that actually run the city," she explained. "The police, lawmakers, hospitals, banks. All of these petty crimes were to build up the funds to do that."
As Poison talked to Ethan about their next plan of action, he couldn't help but think back to the first time he had met Poison. His heart beat as he thought back to the time he was nearly eaten alive by this dangerous beauty. He never believed in God or the Devil, for that matter. But Ethan had to thank whoever was in charge of letting him meet Poison back then. She gave his life purpose, a purpose he never really had before.
Poison glanced at him, her emerald eyes holding a hint of displeasure. "Are you listening to me?" She crossed her arms. “Of course!” Ethan replied promptly. “Repeat back to me what I said, and if you don’t do it correctly, I’ll have to punish you. You know this, right?” Poison smirked. That smile felt like an angel was seducing him as Ethan wondered exactly what kind of punishment she would give him…
Their conversation was interrupted by the distant wail of sirens. Poison and Ethan exchanged a knowing look, a silent understanding passing between them. He grabbed the suitcase filled with the stolen money of the Slangin’ Kings and prepared to escape with his monster queen. “I’m waiting,” Poison reminded him, giving little mind to the incoming police officers. Ethan gave a resigned, nervous chuckle as he effortlessly recited back to Poison her words.
She clicked her tongue in disappointment. “Lucky you.” Jinx created a portal for the three of them as they disappeared from the bar that police would soon swarm.