Acrilis

A Sweet Venom

The rain kept pelting them mercilessly, each droplet a sharp patter against the earth, forming rivulets that carved tiny trails through the dust. Salvor shivered with a chill he couldn't explain—one that felt deeper than cold. His clothes clung to his skin, soaked through, and his shoes were soggy with muddy water. It felt like the ruin of something sacred. A possession destroyed.

He stood petrified, blood turned to ice, eyes locked on the alien figure before him. He didn’t dare blink, not even as the rain whipped his face like lashes. She was real. Undeniably real. That much was clear now.

But she—whatever she was—seemed unfazed by the chaos she was conjuring. Her posture was calm, composed, as if the storm was her playground. Her coat hung heavy from the rain, clinging to her shirt and outlining the curve of her chest. Salvor looked away. Now’s not the time to get distracted, he scolded himself.

Then, something shifted. A flicker. Her image suddenly warped—as though reality bent for a moment and snapped back. At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks, but it happened again. A flicker. A mirage. A disruption of the senses.

And then she phased—disappearing in one spot and reappearing somewhere else entirely. Disintegrating. Reassembling. Again and again. Fascination and fear warred within him as he watched helplessly.

In a zigzag motion, she melted toward him, dancing through space like a ghost wrapped in wind. What was she? A failed experiment? A star fallen from the cosmos? A princess of the sea? Or maybe... an ancient being, imprisoned long ago and now set loose from her spellbound cage?

Salvor's mind raced, spiraling into endless theories. And then—she was right in front of him.

This was the first time he truly saw her. She looked exactly like she did in his dream, but closer now. Closer than ever. Her skin was almost snowy, and her long hair flowed behind her like silk in a breeze. She stared directly at him with eyes that pierced right through his soul.

She was too perfect.

And that terrified him.

He couldn’t read her. Her face was beautiful, but beauty can hide monsters. One thing, however, was certain: she could read him. Every fear, every hesitation, was transparent to her.

Then she vanished again.

Appeared behind him.

Then beside.

Then in front.

Side.

Behind.

Back again.

She was everywhere and nowhere.

Salvor’s senses were breaking apart. He wished—prayed—she would stop. She circled him again, letting out a soft, melodic giggle. A sound that chilled him more than thunder ever could.

He saw an opening. Lunging forward, he shoved her with all the strength he could muster.

She was lighter than he expected.

She fell into a puddle with a splash.

Salvor didn’t wait to see her reaction. He ran—desperately, blindly—tearing through the forest like a man possessed. Twigs scratched at his face, trees blurred past. His footsteps splashed pitifully in the mud, a frantic pit-pat beneath the downpour.

Then he heard it.

A whooshing sound behind him.

And again.

And again.

He was being hunted.

Terror overtook him. He sprinted faster, breath ragged, heart pounding in chaos. A flicker of movement caught his eye. Was that her reflection behind the tree?

Then—suddenly—she was just there.

In front of him.

Her hand touched his chest, soft but pulsing with energy.

And he went flying.

Crashing backwards through the trees, colliding with bark and branches. He was a ragdoll in the grip of a storm. He finally slammed into a mahogany tree, the impact knocking the wind and fight out of him. This is it, he thought. This is how I die.

Hair disheveled, breath ragged, body aching, he slumped against the tree. He tried to find his footing but his legs refused. And then she returned—floating to his front, like a whisper made flesh.

She bent down.

And smiled.

Offered him her hand.

He didn’t trust it.

So he lunged—fist flying.

He struck her.

Square in the face.

The blow jerked her back, startled but not wounded. She paused, then slowly turned back to him... and grinned. A twisted, amused grin. She raised her hand and mimicked his punch perfectly—fingers curled, thumb placed just right.

She was imitating him.

She thought it was a game.

A game.

She wasn’t trying to kill him.

She thought they were playing.

His stomach dropped.

He crawled backward, fear rising to his throat.

But she wasn't done.

She raised her fist.

And brought it straight for Salvor’s face...

---

Heliot checked himself for the hundredth time in the mirror.

He had on his special blue tunic suit. Today was meant to be the day his destiny changed—either once and for all, or forever in pieces.

A car honked downstairs. He moved to the window.

Parked just outside his building was a sleek Hyundai Palisade. No need for a guess: Magnus had sent one of his boys.

He smiled to himself.

This is it.

He checked on his siblings—they were still fast asleep—and peeked at his dad, who was watching a match in the sitting room.

“I’m off, Dad.”

“Be yourself, son.” The usual response.

He stepped out to meet Henderson, who was resting against the car, tapping on his device with fingers that moved like they were coding the world.

They drove off toward Magnus’s mansion.

It was probably the most boring ride Heliot had ever endured.

“So… what’s it like? Always being around Magnus?” he asked, trying to stir a conversation.

Henderson glanced at him, then returned his gaze to the road.

“You’ll find out.”

Eventful, Heliot mused, slinking deeper into the soft leather seat.

When Magnus’s mansion came into view, it was everything he had imagined—and more. Outside, a few kids splashed around the pool, others lounged by it, carelessly wealthy and bathed in casual luxury. Henderson drove past a lineup of some of the rarest cars on Earth: Rolls-Royce Boat Tail, Bugatti La Voiture Noire, Pagani Zonda HP Barchetta, Sweptail, Centodieci…

Heliot was swallowed in a whirlpool of unrelatable affluence. These were people who probably didn’t know the cost of toothpaste—or how to pour their own wine.

He followed Henderson into the mansion, flanked by guards that resembled half-human titans and dogs that looked engineered for chaos. They passed through a security machine unlike anything Heliot had seen. It wasn’t just a metal detector—it neutralized any danger you might bring in.

An elevator took them up. When it opened…

Paradise on Earth.

The suite was a playground of the elite. It was not a party—it was a curated experience. A soft glow hung in the air. There was no DJ; music drifted from an AI system embedded into the walls, melting seamlessly into the atmosphere. The beats were dreamlike, designed to lull you into surrender.

Heliot felt like a wild card in a perfect deck.

The air, the expressions, even the rhythm of speech—everything here was… other.

Attendants moved around with trays stacked in combinations no common cuisine could imagine. The young elite danced, cuddled, murmured… and somewhere in the hidden corners, who knew what else was happening?

Then he saw him—Magnus—lounging on soft cushions with two other teenagers. A simple silk shirt. Glossy pants. Effortless presence.

The moment Magnus saw him, he stood up.

“You made it,” he said in a calm, magnetic voice.

Heliot gave a stiff smile. He was already fighting the urge to check if his breath smelled like nerves.

“Come, let me introduce you to my buddies,” Magnus said, leading him toward the cushions.

“Here—meet Alberto. Son of the Italian President. And Seldrish, cousin to the current UNO Secretary General.”

Heliot swallowed a blush under a mask of feigned ease.

“Nice to meet you guys,” he said, voice tight.

“Guys,” Magnus began, “this is Heliot. The greatest footballer at Emporium and…”

He placed a hand on Heliot’s shoulder and sat him down gently.

“…my favorite pal.”

Your favorite pal? Way to go, Magnus…

Heliot’s smile twitched a little at the edge.

Magnus handed him a glass of champagne, which he accepted with slightly trembling fingers. Alberto raised his glass.

“Un amico di Magnus è un amico mio.”

Seldrish joined him. “To the beginning of new friends!”

Finally, Magnus lifted his own and shouted,

“Salud!”

And with that, they all drank.

A toast not just to friendship—but to a world Heliot was only beginning to taste.

---

After a lot of drinking and merrying, it was starting to get late. Magnus saw to it that every one of his invitees was properly looked after. Those that needed to leave for home—he made sure they weren't driving drunk, and those that were, he saw to it they were accompanied by a guard of his. He also created a room to relax for those who were staying. Irrespective of this, some kids still remained magnetized to the dance floor. He later came to join Heliot on the sofa, where he was busy playing with his 9th glass of Moët and Chandon.

"How're we holding up, cowboy?" he said, taking a seat beside him and wrapping an arm around the chair.

"I..." Heliot stuttered. "...I'm drunk," he finally said, laughing. Magnus chuckled and gently collected the glass from him.

"Come, lemme introduce you to someone..." He pulled him up and they strolled all the way out of the building to its veranda. There was a couple of exotic ladies all dressed in expensive dresses and chit-chatting over some matter that Heliot couldn't even begin to imagine at the time.

"Heliot... I want you to meet my cousin, Aera."

The lady, who was caught in a hectic conversation, swayed around laughing, and Heliot caught his breath. She was wearing a blue-black crop top paired with a multicolored high-waisted pant. Her feet held pure white, stylish blue sneakers—ones that rose over her ankles. The clothing matched her beauty, no doubt. She had the most beautiful eyes Heliot had ever seen and packed her hair in a ponytail.

"Who do we have here?" she asked in between smiles. Her voice was mentally mature and confident. Heliot could have sworn he lost his footing.

"He's Heliot... I was wondering if you could perhaps help me show him around so he doesn't get lost," Magnus retorted, slightly eyeing Aera. Aera rolled her eyes and dismissed her friend before grabbing Heliot's hand.

"Come... lemme show you my car." She dragged him along towards the garage and spotted hers among the glitters. It was a pitch-black luxurious Bentley. She opened the doors with an automatic remote key and they both tucked in from both ends.

"What do you think of it?" she said, grabbing hold of the steering wheel and eyeing him gently.

"It's... it's beautiful," Heliot struggled with his intentions.

"Is it?..." she retorted, drawing a bit closer to him.

"It's gorgeous!" Heliot swallowed hard. She laughed and leaned back into her seat.

"My dad got it for my fifteenth birthday... It's become old and rusty," she fussed. Heliot just stared.

"Do you wanna have a tryout?" she inquired, staring him straight in the eye. It was like he was entrapped in those mirrors.

"I... guess..." he managed to say.

She giggled and shoved the door open.

"Come then... let's see what you can do with this baby." But ignorant Heliot was already crossing the seat that connects the driver's and passenger's seats at the front. He bumped into her in the process. She looked back at him and laughed even more.

"You're such a silly cute thing," she finally said. Heliot could never be more stupid in between blushes. She held him in a stare for a while and finally said silently, "Touch me..."

Heliot shook at the thought, but his sight was a lot blurry with the moment and liquor. He gently placed his hand on her waist and gently drew her closer from the driver’s side, causing her waist to hit the gear. She winced in slight pain.

"I'm..."

She stopped him with her finger on his lips, then crossed her legs over his lap, straddling him in the process. He tried reaching out for her face but she caught it just in time and pushed it underneath his top to grasp her hard n*****s. She bent down and kissed him gently. He was lost. She kissed him again, this time a little more lengthy. He seemed to grasp the magnitude of the situation. He grabbed her neck, making her gasp silently, then pulled her to himself. His lips met hers in hot passion. She pushed hers into his and he gently bit it, resting a lot more on the chair rest. She gently pressed a remote on the chair and it whizzed backwards, making a machine sound and giving them enough space to breathe into each other. She shoved herself closer into him and he accepted her without complaint. Then she released the kiss, forcing him to kiss her guts and trace his wet tongue through her spotless neck. She moaned gently and reached out for his belt, unbuckling it slowly. Throughout the act... the only reasonable thought that seemed to find its way into Heliot’s lodged mind was...

Salvor... I'm sorry... but you're missing heaven.

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