CHAPTER 31: A LITTLE SURPRISE FOR GALVESTON

[The Underwood — Venom’s Den]

The underworld trembled beneath a low, eternal hum as always— like a wounded beast breathing in its sleep. Rivers of molten fire slithered through black stone veins, casting flickering orange scars across the ceiling of the cavern. A throne made of real human bones and shadow Known as the throne of War and Death— sat upon a jagged rise at the center of it all, where Venom watched the world through a shroud of fire and smoke.

A thousand whispering souls curled around his throne, murmuring faint songs of suffering, feeding his mind with echoes of every realm that feared his name. His clawed fingers tapped lazily against the throne’s arm, each tap sending faint ripples across the molten floor below.

Through his burning mirrors, he could see everything— the chaos at the pool, the screams, the demon hive’s destruction, Valkyrie’s defiance. He remembered the way her aura flared, half-divine and half-damned, when she confronted his creature the other day.

The confusion in Valkyrie’s eyes as the hive spoke her name. That spark of power— and the fear that followed, pleased him more than victory ever could.

A distant sound echoed through the chamber— slow footsteps followed, it was hesitant, careful but serious. The temperature dipped slightly, as if the fire itself held its breath. Out from the twisting shadows came a cloaked figure, their head bowed low, steps measured to hide the tremor in their movements. The faint scent of ash and metal followed them.

The ally knelt a few paces from the throne and lowered their head. "Master," the voice rasped, respectful but laced with unease. "I’ve returned."

Venom’s eyes opened— two embers glowing through darkness. He didn’t look directly at them; his gaze stayed fixed on the distant mirror of flame before him.

"Have you brought what I asked for?"

The ally hesitated, their fingers curling into the ash-coated floor. "No. The item remains out of reach. The academy is... well protected. It’s barriers shift with every attempt. I couldn’t get close enough."

A long silence followed. The cavern seemed to tighten around them.

Then, a single, sharp sound followed— Venom’s talon scraping once across the arm of his throne. Sparks leapt, hissing into the molten river below.

"You’ve disappointed me twice," he said quietly. "And yet you still return with empty hands."

The ally’s voice wavered slightly. "I will not fail again. I’ve studied their patterns. Next time, I’ll succeed."

Venom leaned back slowly, studying the figure from the corner of his eye. "You said that before," he said, with his tone dangerously calm.

The ally bowed deeper. "Please, Master. Give me another chance. I... I’ve brought information instead. Something you might find useful."

The corners of Venom’s lips twitched— not a smile, but a flicker of interest. "Information?"

"Yes," the ally replied quickly, taking the chance. "The academy’s council has approved a trip for their elite students. They’re going to the Garden of Galveston— An ancient training grounds. Only the strongest and most trusted are being sent."

Venom tilted his head slightly. "The Garden..." he repeated, with his voice dripping with old memory. "So they return to the soil of their gods. How quaint."

The ally continued, but eager now. "It’s meant to prepare them for battle— against you, Master. They believe Galveston will awaken power strong enough to challenge your legions."

Venom chuckled low, a sound like shifting boulders and dying embers. "Prepare them? Against me? Venom?"

His tone curled into a mockery. "Let them train all they want. It’s still not going to change a damn thing. They forget... I forged wars before their generation could crawl." He laughed menacely.

The ally looked up as if the very air might crush them, voice shaking. "I wasn’t selected for the trip..." They paused, swallowing hard before finishing, "...my name was not among the chosen elites."

The chuckle that had curled at the edge of Venom’s mouth died away. Flames guttered, bending inward toward him like servants afraid to breathe.

"You weren’t... selected?" he repeated, soft enough that the words pressed against their lungs.

They dropped their gaze again, fingers worrying at the hem of their cloak. "No, Master. But— I can fix it. I can make sure I’m included before they depart."

For a moment the silence stretched until it felt almost solid. Then Venom leaned forward. His voice— low and quiet, landed like thunder in the stillness.

"YOU WILL BE SELECTED," he said. "At all cost. Bend their trust if you must. I do not care what path you take, only that you arrive in Galveston with them. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Master," they breathed. "Perfectly."

A ripple of dark energy pulsed through the floor; the chains along the walls trembled as if answering him. For a heartbeat Venom’s gaze softened— not mercy, but approval, like a blade warmed to the right heat.

"Good," he murmured. He paused, then added, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "Don’t forget what they did to your mother. They are the reason your parents are dead. Do you want revenge for your family?"

They shivered, but nodded, the motion small and immediate. "Yes. Every one of them. I want them to beg for their lives while I watch with utmost satisfaction..." Their sentence snagged on its own ferocity, then steadied. "...I’ve watched the academy for years. They don’t suspect a thing."

"Hmmm," Venom said, the sound close to a purr.

They pressed on, words tumbling faster now, the heat of their anger steaming. "...Camila. I want her to pay the most. That witch..."

Venom raised a hand, not unkindly, to temper the flare. "Easy, tiger. Patience," he said, voice silk over steel. "We do not rip out hearts all at once. We choke them slowly, from the inside. They will not see the teeth until the throat is finished."

He stepped closer and, for a moment, the cavern seemed to narrow around them. "You know I am always here," he said— not a question though. "I am your father in the shadows you never dared name. After those monsters shattered your world when you were born... if only you knew."

The ally met his gaze, eyes bright with a terrible kind of gratitude. "I know, Master. I know everything."

"You’re family now. Call me Papa. You are my daughter. I might be hard on you sometimes, but it’s for your own good... you understand, right?"

"Yes, Papa," the ally answered, the single words trembling with a mix of fear and satisfaction.

A slow, almost thoughtful smile creased Venom’s face. He rose from his throne, the shadows around him folding like obedient smoke. "While you handle your end," he said, pacing down the obsidian steps, "I’ll prepare something of my own. A little surprise for their trip."

"A surprise, Papa?" the ally asked, eager and careful at once.

Venom turned to the molten mirror behind him: a pool of black glass that bled images of the academy— laughing students, sunlit courtyards, the careless joy the surface world took for granted. He dragged a clawed finger across that reflected laughter until it warped, knitting those bright sounds into something ugly and thin— the kind of sound only he could hear and appreciate.

"Yes," he murmured. "A reminder that no matter how high they climb, their roots still rot in shadow. Even paradise can burn."

The ally bowed so low their hood nearly touched the stone. "As you will it, Papa."

Venom’s red eyes glinted. His voice dropped until it was almost private, though the cavern drank the words and spread them like poison. "I will sow ruin in their Eden, and when the flowers of Galveston bloom..." He paused to taste the anticipation, the room tightening around the pause. "...they will drink blood instead of sunlight."

The heat in the chamber thickened, and the fire itself seemed to lean closer.

"Now go," Venom said at last, his tone shifting into a dangerous softness that made the ally’s skin prickle. "Earn your place among them. Make yourself their ally, their friend. And when they trust you..." He stepped in close, the smell of sulfur and iron in the air as his breath brushed the ally’s ear.

"...remind them who truly owns their fate."

The ally straightened, bowed once more, and retreated into the waiting dark. "It will be done, Papa," they promised, voice small but certain.

Venom watched the shadow swallow them, listened to their footsteps fade into the tunnels, and turned back to the mirror. Valkyrie’s face shimmered there for a heartbeat— a flash of uncertain light that slipped away like a secret.

"Galveston," he whispered, softer than the fires that licked his throne. "If only they knew what I’m sending their way."

A thin smile hooked his lips.

"I’ll make sure it’s their last taste of paradise."

Around him the flames burned hotter, the underworld echoing with the satisfied rasp of something darker as the cavern exhaled and bent to his will.

The flames surged even higher, devouring the throne in crimson light. The underworld roared its approval, and the echoes of Venom’s laughter slithered through every crack of the burning earth.