STRANGULATE | Markicest

33 | VIPER

The vibrant lights swallowed Mark as he entered the limo.

He gazed over his shoulder, catching Dark's bright, glimmering eyes, before Anti nudged him further inside.

He was going to get through this.

He sat at the farthest end of the limousine, the leather seats cold and unwelcoming—rumbling along with the shiver of the engine. The glasses lining the mini-bar glinted under the lights above, practically blinding him. His fingers subconsciously glanced over his pocket, making sure the vial and the device were still there.

    He glanced out the tinted windows, heart racing when Anti approached Dark with that slithering, dangerous stride. They were talking, glaring at each other and raising their hackles, but before he could try to eavesdrop, Cibil walked in.

    She grabbed the side of the door and hauled herself inside, making her way to the seat on the side—right in the very middle. Not too close to Mark, but close enough. She glanced over at him, staring at him through her blindfold without a word.

    Mark swallowed and straightened himself, his skin crawling.

    Dark told me to stay away from her, he thought.

    She wouldn't stop staring.

    Mark sat there, wringing his painted hands together, casting her odd glances before trying to distract himself from her laser-focused gaze. It was as if she were staring straight into his soul. His very essence. His very human nature. Like she knew.

    He glanced out the window, chest giving a wrench as Dark clenched his fists, baring his teeth as Anti walked away.

    I won't see him for two weeks, he thought.

    His heart skipped when Antinstine clambered into the car, shutting the door with a violent slam. The limo rocked at the motion, and Anti pounded on the driver's window as he sat down. He stared Mark down all the while, eyes glowing.

    "I want you to listen close," said Anti, and the limo began to move, driving away from the club. From Dark. From what little semblance of safety Mark had.

    Cibil pulled her gaze away from Mark, staring out the window and separating herself from the scene. Mark gave a relieved sigh at that, but Anti's presence only made the air in the limousine thicker.

    "Yer obviously a bit of a rebel," said Anti, eyes glinting. "So I won't bother to talk about rules."

    He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers. Mark straightened himself and glared, remembering his character, his purpose.

    "All you need to know," said Anti, "is that you are mine." He smirked, leaning back and unfolding himself in a single, graceful motion. His arms draped over the seats as he crossed his legs. "And—as mine—my word is law."

    Anti glanced over at his nails, letting them glint under the vibrant lights. He smirked and rose a brow at Mark, his aura smug and victorious.

    "My people will have a constant watch over you. They will pick you apart—think, say, do whatever they please... And if yer caught doing anything suspicious, well..." He leaned to the side, running his thumb along his throat in a smooth, languid motion. "I wouldn't say dead, but... worse."

    Mark took a deep breath, trying to hide the tension in his body. His limbs had locked from the constant, suppressing fear, but he tried to stay clear-headed.

    "Let them do what they want," he said, cringing at how weak his voice sounded. Thankfully, the rumble of the engine and the rush of the other cars outside hid the shake in his throat. "Killing me would be a waste of time."