Page 85 of Retaliation

“You will be able to enjoy the show of a lifetime.”

“Out of respect for your late brother, Shadow, I will grant you immunity. But only for tonight.”

“Why am I not surprised that you knew my brother?” Poison askes. She had a feeling this woman knew a lot of things about a lot of people.

“I make it my business to know things. My arena is yours for the night,” Kitiara replied and turned to one of her guards. “Set Miss Poison up in my personal dressing room and clear the evening’s roster.”

The guard dipped his chin and walked to Poison’s side, waiting for her to get up from her seat. Rising from her seat, she took the briefcase from the desk.

“Just need it as bait,” she explained before Kitiara could protest. “I’ll give it back at the end of the evening.” Following the guard to the door, she stopped in the middle of the room and turned to Kitiara.

“If I’m still breathing tomorrow, I’ll buy you a drink, Boss Lady,” she said to the woman on the other side of the desk.

“Good luck, Poison.”

And with that, she walked out of the room and down the stairs. As they re-entered the arena, the crowd’s electricity coursed through her body, and she was ready to face whatever was coming her way.

The guard led her further into the building, to a side wing, where he opened the door to a dressing room and disappeared again, she gave him a memory card.

“Tell the DJ to play this song when I give him the signal.”

She stepped inside the dressing room and shut out the noise of the crowd as she closed the door behind her. Rummaging through her duffle bag, she pulled off her shoes and leather jacket. She took her time wrapping her hands, and once she was done, she pulled a cloak from the bag.

She heard the announcer over the sound system and took it as her cue.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, and every other person,” the announcer called. “We are in for a treat tonight!”

The crowd answered with a roar of cheers and applause.

Poison walked down the hallway to where the arena loomed in the middle of the great room. At the entrance, she paused, centering herself. With a swift movement, she pulled the cloak over her shoulders, the fabric enveloping her like a shield against the world outside. Drawing the hood over her eyes, she shrouded her eyes in darkness, a silent vow to remain unseen until the right moment.

With a nod at the DJ, she signaled for her entrance song to begin.

As the lights dimmed, the arena plunged into darkness, save for the eerie glow of the black lights illuminating her cloak. Stepping into the aisle between the stands, gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd as the glowing flames on her cloak seemed to dance with a life of their own, casting an otherworldly aura around her.

Smoke billowed from hidden machines, veiling her approach in a cover of mystery, heightening the tension in the air. Securing her cloak tightly around her, her heart quickened as the music erupted into a deafening chorus of drums and guitars.

With each step, the tempo of the music pulsed through her veins, driving her forward into the swirling mist. As the crowd fell into a hushed reverence, she emerged from the smoke, her flames blazing with an intensity that matched the fervor of her heartbeat. Every footfall echoed in her eardrums, a rhythmic cadence. With deliberate precision, she ascended the steps to the ring, each movement calculated for maximum impact.

As the beat dropped, and the words: ‘I’m bad, as bad as can be,’ reverberated through the arena, Poison stood at the center of the ring, bathed in flickering strobe lights. With a fluid motion, she allowed her hood to fall back, revealing her face to the electrified crowd—with venom in her eyes, her smirk deadly.

Her makeup was an expression of defiance, the black hues accentuated by streaks of poisonous green swirling across her lids like tendrils of smoke. Her hair, a veil of darkness, in a braided halo around her head, added

to the air of mystery that surrounded her.

As strobe lights stopped and bathed her in the glow of a spotlight, the crowd erupted into a frenzy, their cheers reverberating off the walls like thunder. Poison drank in their energy, allowing it to fuel the fire within her.

Adrenaline surged through her veins, sending her heart racing with a fierce intensity. Every hair on her body stood on end, the electric atmosphere crackling around her like static in the air. With measured steps, she prowled the perimeter of the ring, a predator basking in the adulation of her prey.

As a microphone descended from above, the spotlight grew to a blinding light, illuminating the whole arena and revealing the sea of faces surrounding her. The sheer magnitude of the crowd took her breath away, a vast ocean of humanity stretching out before her like an endless tide. Bringing the microphone to her lips, she raised her hand, silencing the clamor with a single gesture.

“Dwellers of the underworld,” she began, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Welcome to the night you will never forget.”

With deliberate pacing, she circled the ring once more, each step a calculated maneuver to heighten the suspense.

“My name is Poison, and I am the leader of the Silver Serpents. You might have heard of us. Our ruthless reputation precedes us. I am the youngest crew leader this city has ever seen and the only leader not under the

control of any of the three crime families ruling this city. And I want to set a challenge,” she declared, her words hanging in the air like a promise: another pause, another beat of anticipation.

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