Venom: A Dark Retelling

by Dee Garcia

  He appears as sure of himself as ever. You think that would put me more at ease, yeah? Wrong. Something doesn’t feel right. I’ve never doubted the man before, and truthfully, I don’t plan to start now, but this seems too easy.

  What isn’t he telling me?

  “What about site wounds once the extraction is complete? Will they heal?” I question, and within seconds, the truth reveals itself.

  Ward’s face, though already fair, drains of what little color remains. Evidently, he hadn’t thought I’d dig this deep, that I’d be so thorough with whatever questions I may have. Quite stupid on his part. I’m nothing if not thorough, and he should know that by now.

  “Doctor—Will. They. Heal?” I take a single step toward him in warning.

  The old man swallows, yet continues to stand his ground despite my advance. “Not unless she feeds, no.”

  “What happens if she still chooses not to?”

  “She’ll have about a week.”

  A week. That’s it. Without feeding, she can’t heal. Her wounds will continue on in the same tortuous loop of wanting to heal and relapsing until her body gives out all together. I should’ve expected that to be a possibility. And now that I know for certain, I’m absolutely dreading asking my next question, because I don’t just have an inkling. I know what the answer will be. “And what if she chooses not to have the surgery?”

  Doctor Ward exhales a harsh breath and sets a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Days. Hours, really. The infection is spreading through her wings quickly. She’s already collapsed from the pain once, and I can assure you it, unfortunately, won’t be the last. An ending of this nature won’t be pretty, Captain. Excruciatingly painful, probably more so than she can imagine. I’m not certain what her reasons are for not feeding as of yet, but remind her that time is limited, more than ever. Her body is screaming for proper sustenance.”

  Of course it is.

  I knew that without him mentioning it. I’ve been watching her wither away a little more every day. First her wings and markings, then her complexion and hair.

  What will it be tomorrow?

  Peering over my shoulder, I find her and Tigerlily having their own hushed conversation. I’m relieved to see she’s not caught onto what Ward and I have exchanged, but disconcerted all in the same.

  I’ll have to tell her, let her make the decision.

  Turning back to the good doctor, I rake a hand through my hair, sighing in defeat. “If she decides to go through with it, will you be available to get it done today?”

  He nods. “Absolutely. We can either do it here where she’s more comfortable or in my office.”

  “I’ll check with her. Just give me ten minutes. I believe Cassius is still out in the hall. Have him escort you to the parlor while we wait.”

  Another nod and he’s off, swiftly exiting the room. Tigerlily and Tinksley immediately cease their discussion, dawning their attention on me now that I’m the only other body in the room.

  I’m thankful Tigerlily was here to keep my girl occupied, but it’s time for her to take her leave as well. Tinksley and I will need full privacy as I deliver what few options she has on the table.

  “Tigerlily, I want to sincerely thank you for your assistance throughout this ordeal.”

  The Chief’s daughter proffers a warm smile and waves me off. “It was my pleasure, Captain, and the least I could do.”

  “I appreciate it, truly. Would you mind if Tinksley and I had a word, though? The doct—”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself.” She rises from the bed, smoothing a hand down the knee-length, saffron dress clinging to her figure. “I’ll just excuse myself, but if either one of you need me, you know where to find me.”

  “The library,” Tinksley and I parrot.

  “You got it.” She chuckles, retreating for the doors.

  “I’m dying, aren’t I?” Tinksley asks before the click of knob resounds.

  ♫ Unsteady - X Ambassadors ♫

  Hook stands just feet away, clearly caught off guard by the impudent way in which I dropped my question. I wasn’t eavesdropping on his conversation with the doctor, not by any means, but I already knew the outcome wasn’t going to be anything good based off the pensive hums I heard throughout the course of my examination. Him wanting to speak with Hook after the fact cemented it.

  “Give it to me straight, Hook. Don’t sugarcoat it because you think I can’t handle it,” I urge him, bracing myself for what I know is coming.

  “You need to feed, and I’m not just saying that because it’s what I want. If you don’t feed, you can’t heal from the extraction,” he states calmly.

  As if it was the most normal thing in the world, something casual one hears daily.

  “Extraction?” I’m sitting up straight, making way to scoot to the edge of the bed, but he’s already coming toward me, silently begging me not to move.

  “Your wings, they’re infected. That’s why they’re darkening.”

  “So he wants to take them out?” I squeak.

  “It’s the only way. Medication won’t work. It’ll never hit your bloodstream before the venom destroys it.”

  The hairs at the nape of my neck go rigid at the mention of his venom running through my system. I’ve known it’s there, obviously, but it hits me harder than a sack of bricks.

  “What happens if I don’t consent to it?” God, I sound so timid, hands running up and down my arms from the sudden chill that blasts over my skin.

  “Doctor Ward says you have a week,” Callan clarifies, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Not the way you want to go, trust me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Dying from an infection? It’s agonizing, Tinksley—more than withering away from lack of sustenance. The fever, the pain that will seize your body…”

  He can barely look at me as he says that, eyes clamping shut as the ideation undoubtedly flickers through his mind.

  “If you choose to remain firm on your decision, don’t choose this route. Please.”

  His plea pulls at my heartstrings. “I don’t have much of a choice at this point. Dying ‘as is’ isn’t an option anymore. Either I rip away this part of myself just to do away with the infection, then have to feed in order to heal, or I let the infection run its course and take me when my body can’t endure it anymore. It’s one or the other, right?”

  But even as I say that, I know I have an out—one I was intent on not taking advantage of.

  So much has changed, though.

  “Tinksley, please.” Hook rushes me, slowly dropping to his knees before me. “I’ll beg you if I have to. Please, please don’t choose the latter. I don’t know if you realize this but, you still have the option to go through with this and forgo completing the transition as you had originally planned.”

  “I do?” A flicker of hope touches my voice.

  He nods. “Your wounds won’t heal, but at least you’ll be clear of the infection.”

  Said hope? Gone. Just like that.

  “Still isn’t ‘as is.’” I sigh. “That sounds—”

  “Painful?” He sets his hands on the bed, still somehow caging me in. “It is. Fever, chills, misery.”

  One moment, I’m sinking my teeth into the rope and securing it around my head. Next I’m reclaiming the hooked sword and pulling one of my wings forward within my range of sight.

  Do it, that beguiling, ill-boding voice coaxes from deep within. The same one I’ve done my best to ignore all these years.

  The same one I won’t ignore this time.

  Hands shaking, I go for it before I can fully process what I’m doing. The blade slices through my wing, shooting a muffled yet agonized scream forth from my mouth. The second hurts even more, harrowingly so.

  So does the third, and the fourth. The fifth, too.

  My screams echo.

  Blood splatters around me, on me.

  I can’t stop even if I wanted to, swinging the sword into my wing over and over
again like the pendulum of a clock. When almost nothing remains, I switch to the other side, repeating the debauched, ludicrous act all over again.

  By the time I finish with myself, I’m sitting in a crimson pool laced with my tears. My throat aches from screeching, my mind spinning, too bleary to truly make sense of anything.

  Finish it.

  The memory batters me, knocking the wind out of me as that disturbing sense of misery, the one that had consumed me up on that dais, settles deep in my bones.

  I can’t do this.

  Not going to pretend like I can, either. Pretty pathetic when I’d psyched myself to believe I wasn’t weak. What’s more is I actually believed it.

  Why? Why would I ever think I was anything other than weak?

  I allowed myself to fall so deep in despair, that I put my life on the line. I ended it all for a boy who never truly loved me. I mean, he was here. He was still in Rosewood while I had become one with my bed.

  Nothing mattered except him.

  All I cared about was that he was gone.

  And yet he wasn’t—so why am I putting my life on the line now? For what?

  What happened to the balance of life cannot be disrupted?

  Oh. Yeah. That.

  Hook leans closer. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  His scent, that comforting, clean scent with subtle musky notes violates me, fogging my head, jumbling my words. “I-I don’t know what I’m thinking, to be honest. I’m having such selfish thoughts now that certain things aren’t what I thought they were. It’s hard not to when I lose any way I choose.”

  “The only way you’re losing is by dying.” He’s closer still, forcing me to look him in the eye. “I know you don’t agree, but it’s true. You didn’t deserve this, Tinksley. You really didn’t. What Pan did to you”—grabbing my hand, he sets it to his chest—“it awakens this volatile rage within me. If anyone deserved to die, it’s him.”

  “I don’t know about all that,” I whisper, fingers twitching beneath his hold.

  “Trust me. He does.”

  “It doesn’t matter now anyway. Too late. Like I said the other night, there isn’t any changing the past or what I’ve done. I can only move forward.”

  “Then why are you wasting that chance? And don’t tell me that bullshit about the balance of life. It’s utter, fucking bullshit to me, okay?” The hand securing mine at his chest falls away, only to sweep up and lock around my jaw. One fluid movement, that’s all it takes. And those ardent blues that steal my every last breath. “Don’t you see I found you for a reason? Life gave you a second chance. Not everyone gets that.”

  “Yes, but at what expense? People’s lives?” I argue, ripping out of his hold. “I’m a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any moment and bring out the side of me that everyone on this island hates. You included.”

  Callan flinches just slightly at the bite in my tone, but recovers in double time, determined as ever by the looks of it. Pulling me onto my feet, he lifts my hands just inches from his lips. “I vow to you with everything that I am that I’ll help you. I’ll help you in any way. Let me show you how exhilarating this life can be.”

  Just say yes. You know you want to. “Callan, I…”

  “Please,” he pleads. “You’re not meant to die, my love. Immortality chose you just as it chose me—embrace it.”

  “There’s no coming back from this,” he reminds me, tightening his fist in my hair.

  Almost as if he’s giving me an out. I should take it, but I don’t want to. It’s impossible to resist him when he’s this close.

  And truth be told…I want him to kiss me.

  “There’s no coming back from anything I’ve done. Do it, Callan. Kiss—”

  My entire body thrums the second his lips touch mine. He’s gentle, yet so fervent, gripping me with what feels like possessive hands.

  This right here—this is passion, and it’s nothing more than a taste. I’m mewling just thinking about what it would be like if he tossed me on his bed and—

  “So fucking sweet,” he mumbles, distracting me from my wayward thoughts.

  “That’s not how this works,” I breathe at the memory, willing the tremor building at the base of my spine to subside.

  “Oh, but it is.” He chuckles darkly. “Even those who aren’t given the choice were chosen.”

  “C’mon, Tinksley, just a little taste.” Bringing his pointer to his mouth, I watch him prick it with a quick fang. The tiniest crimson droplet appears enrapturing what remains of my coherent attention. I swear I can just barely smell it, taste it on my tongue already.

  “One taste. Just one before you leave me,” he rasps.

  I don’t know how to answer that, much less what to say. I can’t even nod, yet my lips seem to part on their own in some sick anticipation to please him.

  A moment later there’s a thin smear of blood painted across my lower lip. “Lick,” he commands.

  I hesitate, but it’s next to nothing. My tongue sweeps out, lapping up his essence in one fluid movement. The faintest tang blasts over my taste buds like a livewire, every inch of me awakening, desperate for—

  More, a hushed voice rings out in my mind, just as Callan brings his finger to my lips again. “Now suck.” Another command, and this time around, I don’t hesitate.

  Sealing my lips around the digit, I do exactly as he’s asked, hollowing my cheeks as I beckon his lifesource outward. The taste is still quite faint, but...

  It tastes so good.

  Good enough that a soft moan leaves me as I shut my eyes, savoring this moment, savoring him, just as he wanted.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, there’s that nagging reminder that I shouldn’t be doing this. If I lose control, I’ll complete the transition, but I can’t fucking stop.

  Can’t. Stop.

  That taste…it arises in the back of my throat, sparking that now familiar nagging feeling along with it. I swear I can actually taste it, swallowing deeply as I relish the decadent remembrance of Hook’s finger trapped between my lips.

  I want more.

  “I don’t think I can do it,” I admit, restoring my focus on him.

  “You have my word.” He kisses my knuckles. “I’ll help—”

  “No, no, not that. I mean dying; I don’t think I can do it, not under these terms.” Did I really just confess that? “In some ways, I feel backed into a corner, like the only logical thing to do is feed. And perhaps that’s weak minded of me because if I was so ready to die, it shouldn’t be this hard of a decision. But dying the first time was excruciating enough. God, I’m being so selfish right now.”

  “You’re not selfish, nor weak minded.” He pulls me flush against him, winding my arms around his neck. “Everything you’re feeling, everything you’re thinking—it’s completely normal. The fear you experienced while you were free falling? That’ll be magnified to a harrowing degree if you let this thing eat you alive. Feeling your body erode like that.”

  The tremor I was trying to withhold finally jars its way up my spine, littering every inch of my skin with goosebumps. I can’t even bear to think of what he’s described, how would I ever go through with it?

  “I can’t do it, Callan, I just can’t. I know I can still choose not to feed, but how do I even know I’ll be at peace on the other side? What if all that awaits me is an endless reel of this; these festering, maddening thoughts, this pain? I don’t want to be in pain anymore. I want to be free of it all; the guilt, the grief. I want to feel alive again.”

  Hook’s face lights up with that knee-wobbling smile and his body sags in relief. I literally feel every single ripple of his muscles as they relax against me, lively palms trailing up my figure to my face. “Ask and you shall receive. I’m right here, love—willing and ready.”

  Willing and ready—three loaded little words that don’t slip past me. My already erratic heart beat goes into full hyperdrive, stomach flipping in...excitement? “If I do this, I need you to
promise me something.” I shamelessly thread my fingers through the hairs tickling the back of his neck.

  “Anything.”

  “I need you to promise me you’ll help me find out why Peter wanted to leave.”

  “Tinksley.” His stare widens, snapping my finger up to his lips.

  “I just want answers. Closure. Nothing less, nothing more, I swear. Finding out he was here that whole time, that he did what he did...it shifted my mindset, a lot. But I still need to know why.”

  “Fine.” He sighs. “I’ll uh—I’ll see what I can do.”

  That’s better than nothing. He could’ve flat out told me no. “So how is this going to work? The surgery, I mean.”

  “Ward said we could either do it here or in his office. Wherever you’re more comfortable.”

  “Here, please. Is he going to have enough space, though?”

  Hook steals a quick glance around the room. “We’ll do it in my room.”

  Time doesn’t exist right now.

  It hasn’t since Hook left my room to get everything prepared.

  I can’t believe I’m about to do this, that I caved; so quickly, too. It’s like once he gave me the ultimatum, my mind immediately shut down. Any and all the willpower I possessed disintegrated into nothing.

  He may not think it’s weak, but I do. Probably will for the rest of my life, however long that may be now that I’m—

  Knock, knock!

  Glancing up from my feet, I’m met by the tallest doors I’ve ever seen. I have to crane my head back to catch a glimpse of the very top of the frame itself. An ominous wood like many of the rooms here, they go up for miles. There’s a set of steel knobs for access, but it’s the knockers that leave me mesmerized; iron skulls, the rounded handles clasped between their teeth.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, love. You’ll see,” Violet says, hooking an arm around my shoulders.

  I’ve wondered many a time if she’s a vampire, too. Haven’t dared asked, though. And the opportunity slips me by yet again because, moments later, Hook’s gorgeous face appears between the cracked door.