Paul Marks’s eyes widened in terror.
He shook his head desperately.
“No…
no, no—” His voice broke between begging and frantic curses.
Leon ignored him.
He continued what he’d started with cold precision.
When Paul’s screaming became too irritating, Leon grabbed his jaw.
“You really don’t know when to shut up.” A black tendril moved.
Paul’s voice vanished into a wet, strangled sound.
Leon made sure the injury itself wouldn’t kill him immediately, then turned Paul’s head to the side so he wouldn’t choke on the blood filling his mouth.
“There.” Leon looked down at him.
“Problem solved.” Paul could no longer speak.
Only muffled sounds escaped him.
Leon glanced toward the rats gathering near the edges of the basement.
“And now there’s blood around your mouth too.” His voice was almost conversational.
“I’m sure our little friends will appreciate that.” Paul’s eyes shook with panic.
Leon seemed to remember something.
“Oh.” He looked toward Paul’s stomach.
“Almost forgot.” One thin tendril formed a blade.
“We should make sure they know where to start.” He left another wound across Paul’s abdomen—not immediately fatal, but enough to draw blood.
The smell spread.
Some of the rats were already becoming bolder.
They crept closer instead of fleeing.
Leon looked toward them.
At least one had already taken a position near the body, apparently unwilling to wait for him to leave.
Paul could see them.
That was the worst part.
His limbs were useless.
He couldn’t crawl.
Couldn’t turn over.
Couldn’t fight them off.
Couldn’t even scream properly.
He could only lie there and watch.
Desperate to escape what was coming, Paul began slamming the back of his head against the floor.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
He was trying to knock himself unconscious.
Or kill himself.
Leon noticed immediately.
“No.” Paul struck the floor again.
Leon reached toward a length of exposed reinforcing steel among the damaged concrete.
He bent it with his hands.
Metal groaned.
Then he reshaped it into a crude brace and fixed Paul’s head firmly in place.
Paul tried to move.
He couldn’t.
Leon crouched beside him.
“You don’t get to take the easy way out.” Paul’s eyes widened.
“Passing out isn’t allowed either.” That was the point.
Leon wanted him conscious.
He wanted Paul to understand that death was approaching.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Helplessly.
Whether Paul felt regret for what he’d done didn’t matter anymore.
Leon only wanted him to experience the consequences.
He stood.
“Stay here and wait for death.” Paul stared up at him.
Leon looked down without sympathy.
“In a few days, I’ll send the Harmon brothers after you.” His white eyes narrowed.
“And as many of your coworkers as I can find.” “You’ll all reach hell around the same time.” A faint smile entered his voice.
“So you won’t have to make the trip alone.” Paul could only produce a muffled, broken sound.
Leon gave him a small wave.
“Goodbye.” He turned and left.
But even that wasn’t enough.
Leon wasn’t willing to risk someone finding Paul too quickly.
Near the abandoned property was a large sheet of heavy steel.
With Venom’s strength, removing it was easy.
Leon dragged it over and embedded it across the entrance to the basement stairwell.
The opening was sealed.
He even secured the edges so forcing it loose from inside would be impossible.
Paul had no meaningful way to escape regardless.
Still, Leon wasn’t taking chances.
He punched several small ventilation holes through the metal.
Enough air would get inside.
Enough to keep Paul alive.
For a while.
Leon stood beneath a roadside tree and stared at the abandoned building.
“Enjoy it.” His voice was quiet.
“I designed that ending specifically for you.” This was only the beginning.
His revenge still required more blood.
More names.
More people who had treated Ben’s life as something disposable.
Leon returned home not long afterward.
He sat at his desk.
A photograph rested nearby.
Leon and Ben.
He stared at it silently.
No matter how many people he killed— Ben wasn’t coming back.
No punishment could change that.
No amount of suffering inflicted on the Bloodhound Syndicate could reverse what had happened.
The only thing Leon could do now was make sure everyone involved paid for it.
One after another.
If they had stolen Ben’s life so casually, Leon wanted them to understand what helplessness felt like before theirs ended.
He exhaled slowly.
For the first time since the basement, the tension running through his body began to loosen.
Then he noticed something.
Venom had been unusually quiet.
Very quiet.
During what Leon had done to Paul, the symbiote hadn’t offered its usual commentary.
It hadn’t made jokes.
Hadn’t asked for Paul’s brain.
Nothing.
As soon as Leon thought about it, black material rose from his shoulder.
Venom’s head formed beside him.
It stared at Leon for a moment.
Then— “I finally understand why I chose you.” Leon raised an eyebrow.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Venom sounded strangely thoughtful.
“When I first found you, I hadn’t been…
fixed yet.” “Fixed?” “You know.” Venom waved a tendril.
“Before your ridiculous mind scrubbed all the garbage out of me.” Leon gave it a flat look.
Venom continued.
“Back then, I was angry.” “Chaotic.” “Violent.” It grinned slightly.
“Much worse company.” Leon didn’t argue.
Venom glanced toward him.
“After watching what you did today, I think I understand why that version of me picked you as a host.” Leon stared at it.
“Are you saying I’m insane?” Venom considered the question.
“I was going to say ‘not normal.'” “That’s better?” “Marginally.” Leon rubbed his forehead.
The strange thing was— He couldn’t entirely disagree.
He hadn’t known he was capable of what he’d done to Paul Marks.
Not until he’d done it.
But if someone somehow reset the night and forced Leon to choose again?
He knew exactly what his answer would be.
He’d do the same thing.
That realization didn’t particularly frighten him.
Maybe there was something dark inside him.
Maybe grief had awakened it.
Maybe it had always been there.
Leon didn’t care.
He had never wanted to be a symbol of justice.
He had no intention of convincing himself he was some flawless hero.
If becoming something monstrous was necessary to destroy the people who hurt those he loved— So be it.
His standard was simple.
Show no mercy to enemies who deserved none.
Protect the people he cared about.
That was enough.
In its own way, it was something Ben had taught him.
Ben had a terrible temper.
He cursed too much.
He could be stubborn and loud.
But he had loved Leon completely.
And whether Leon had been in high school or later at college, Ben’s advice whenever someone threatened him had always been brutally straightforward.
Don’t let people walk over you.
If someone comes after you, defend yourself.
Don’t stand there worrying about whether fighting back makes you look polite.
Leon looked at the photograph again.
Venom extended a tendril toward the desk.
A piece of hazelnut chocolate appeared in front of Leon.
“Eat.” Leon glanced at it.
“Chocolate fixes everything?” “Not everything.” Venom paused.
“But enough things.” Leon accepted it.
He broke off a piece and placed it in his mouth.
The chocolate melted slowly.
Rich.
Smooth.
For a few seconds, he simply sat there with his eyes closed.
Venom ate a piece too.
Then it spoke again.
“You were probably wondering why I stayed quiet earlier.” Leon opened his eyes.
“I was.” Venom’s expression became more serious.
“There were two reasons.” “One was that watching you work was…
surprising.” Leon gave it a look.
“That coming from you is concerning.” “Very.” Venom nodded.
“But the other reason mattered more.” Leon straightened slightly.
“I noticed something happening to you.” “What?” “Your mind.” Leon frowned.
“Again?” “Most strange things about you seem to involve your mind.” Venom moved closer.
“When you were talking to Paul, your mental activity kept increasing.” Leon listened carefully.
“The angrier you became, the stronger it got.” Venom’s voice lost its usual playfulness.
“And when you started laughing…” “It peaked.” Leon remembered kneeling amid the rubble.
The laughter that hadn’t felt entirely voluntary.
Venom continued.
“It was like watching an ocean suddenly begin to boil.” Leon said nothing.
“It felt dangerous.” “How dangerous?” Venom stared at him.
“Dangerous enough that I thought your own mental power might overwhelm your brain.” Leon’s expression changed.
Venom continued quickly.
“It settled down afterward.” “But while it was happening, I deliberately stopped communicating with you.” Leon frowned.
“Why?” “Our communication directly interacts with your consciousness.” Venom tapped the side of Leon’s head with one tendril.
“You were already unstable.” “I didn’t want to interfere and trigger something neither of us understands.” Leon leaned back.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he sighed.
“So my brain is basically a time bomb now.” Venom immediately shook its head.
“No.” Leon looked at it.
Venom spoke with complete seriousness.
“That’s insulting to time bombs.” Leon stared.
“Your brain is much more dangerous.” Silence.
Leon looked at Venom.
Venom looked back.
Leon slowly lowered his head into his hands.
“Fantastic.” Venom grinned.
At least the situation had returned to normal enough for it to start insulting him again.
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