Venomous Verdict

• Myles Nielsen, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2013

Claire watched as a man dressed in black slacks and a white V neck tee-shirt made his way across the dance floor to stand by her, she remembered him as the bartender who had served her. He held a cotton bag filled with something moving. Her initial thought had been live worms and then she heard a sly hiss and gulped back a scream as she realized what it was.
Another man made his way onto the stage to stand in front of Stephanie, and then a woman came and stood by Holly, a man with skin as dark and ominous as night walked out next and stood by Anny, she had started to cry, the faces on all of the strange people to have walked on the dance floor were pretty darn intimidating and Anny had done well to keep herself under wraps.
All nine hardwood chairs that occupied newcomers had a member of the Cobra Cult standing next to them with a hessian bag in their hands.
Then a man wearing a navy blue three piece suit with a white shirt and sky blue tie, walked out of the shadows, his pitch black hair and crystal blue eyes resembling Claire’s original façade, she swore if they had been seen walking down the street together they would have been mistaken for brother and sister, maybe even twins?
Holly gave a little yelp as the man walked past her. His face held a slightly malicious expression. He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, in the centre of the circle of chairs. “Cobra’s take hold of your human and feed them the life which may take theirs,” the man smiled and clasped his hands together.
Claire clenched her teeth, almost bitting her tongue in the process. “Open up or I’ll cut off your lips and break all of your teeth, you be one pretty messed up loser then,” the man that stood in front of Claire said to her angrily, or was that just how he talked to everyone, wouldn’t have surprised her.
Claire shook her head and stared up at the man with pleading eyes.
“Yeah right, ‘cause I’m stupid enough to fall for dat,” he said. “No way am I dat much of a dumbass,” he laughed and shook his head, fighting out an argument in the empty space between his ears. That he ended up losing.
Claire watched as the guy untangled the cotton bag before sticking his hand into the hissing madness at the bottom of the white material. He flinched back as the snake tried to strike him, then he grabbed the damned thing at the back of its small head and pulled it out, its tail wrapping around his arm like it thought the man was a tree branch.
“Last time I'll tell yeah, open up or I’ll cut them pretty lips of yours right off,” he held the snake in one hand and dropped the cotton bag from the other, he reached around to his back pocket and came back with a Swiss Army knife.
“Now, now Anson put that knife away, that’s not how we treat guests,” the man in the middle of the dance floor said with that same unnerving smile still tilting at the corners of his lips.
“Yes boss,” Anson said and slid his knife into the back pocket of his jeans. He turned back to Claire and pried open her lips bit by bit until they were open enough to slide the snake down through. “Jus’ ‘cause you been a whiner I’m going to make this twice as painful," he smiled cynically.