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Author's note: This submission was originally designed to be a combination of parts three and four. However, it's tough introducing new main characters, and I had a lot of pacing problems. It started to get boring. Long story short, the combination sucked. So, I divided part three in half. The other half of part three is now in part four, which I will turn in a week from now. In the meantime, enjoy.

Venom: Beautiful Killers. Part 3

"...you were in the wrong place, not me."

The Shark Pit. A Los Angeles institution that, for the last several years, has become the quintessential hot spot to those in the know. This once fledgling bar has now become a densely inhabited playground for customers looking to hook up and get noticed. More than fifty domestic and foreign beers are sold here. The hard liquor and raucous music keeps the regulars coming back nearly every night. Smoking is even allowed, helping to increase the customer base. It has five big-screen televisions that are almost always tuned in to some sporting event. It has video poker, pool tables, and a couple of pinball machines.

There is one thing that sets it apart from every other bar in the city. No humans. There are no humans in it tonight. There were no humans in it yesterday, two days ago, three days ago, or for the last week. The Shark Pit has not seen a human consumer in quite a long time. As a matter of fact, for as long as this establishment has been in existence, there have hardly been any humans inside, except for those who handed this bar its liquor license. The place is occupied, wall to wall, with beings of fur, scales, and a variety of tails. The atmosphere is almost unbearably loud with music and conversation, but is relatively friendly. Keeping the peace inside the bar seems like a tall order, especially since most of the clientele gets really emotional after having one drink too many.

Apparently, the proprietors of the Pit are doing something right. Bruno is a bulldog with big ego and a short fuse. He thinks himself to be God's gift to bartending and prides himself on a smart, sophisticated appearance. Every night, he either wears a tuxedo or a valet uniform, complete with sequined vest. His partner is Casey, a bloodhound. He does not dress as formally, but he is no less important. While Bruno keeps the business in good working condition, Casey chooses which drinks to order for the bar. He keeps the place well stocked by taking inventory every day. He also orders pretzels, beer nuts, and other tidbits demanded by his customer base.

It is nine o'clock. The night is not so busy right now; they had opened just four hours ago. Customers are slow in coming, but a crowd is quietly taking shape. There are, maybe, fifty anthros here now; an hour ago, there were only twenty. The place is swarming with testosterone. There do not seem to be any females in it right now. Of course, it bears repeating that there are no humans in it. As much as human males love to drink, shoot pool, watch sports, and act all macho, it is rather surprising that there are none such people in the bar.

For as long as anyone can remember, only anthropomorphic beings have seen the inside of this place. Maybe the atmosphere is intimidating. Maybe the owners are not exactly friendly. Whatever the reason, that is the reality. Only the owners know the last time a human had stepped foot in the Pit. They don't care, of course. They never lack for customers.

Winter enters to little fanfare. She is one of the bar's most frequent visitors. She has a usual seat, a usual drink, and a usual time of arrival--nine o'clock. She has come in without Shiloh, who can be heard talking and laughing with an acquaintance, until the door closes. Winter strolls slowly to the bar, feeling the effects of the argument she had just an hour ago. She looks tired and reserved. Once Bruno greets her, she waves half-heartedly and sits herself down on her usual stool.

Bruno looks healthy and extremely happy by comparison. "The usual, ma'am?"

She tries to smile. "You know what I like."

"Your boyfriend with you? I thought I heard his voice."

"He's outside catching up with friends. He hasn't seen them in a while since he's been so busy. Don't bother waiting to serve him. He might be out there for a while."

"I'll get you your gin. Just let me replace the peanuts first."

As he leaves, Casey shows up in front of her. He is wearing a nice, new denim shirt, making him look cleaner than the scenery. He places a shot glass in front of her. "Here you go."

"You got something bigger?" She takes a small pigeon egg out from her shirt pocket.

The bloodhound smiles and nods. "Right." He replaces the shot glass with a martini glass. "I still think that's nasty. You're going to ruin the drink with that."

"Please, no negativity. I got enough of that from work today."

"Yeah, I didn't want to say anything, but you look...and smell like you've been accosted. What the hell happened?"

Winter closes her eyes. "Could you do me a favor and smell me my gin?"

Casey shrugs. "Whatever you say." As she watches him leave, she feels a jolt behind her. She yelps and turns her head. Someone has bumped into her. She looks at the stranger angrily.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the porcupine says. "You okay?" She inspects Winter's back. "Oh good. I didn't lose any quills." She chuckles, then looks at Winter's tail. "Oops. Spoke too soon." The quill has skewered the base of the wolf's tail and is stuck into the bar stool. The porcupine quickly removes it and puts it in the empty glass she is holding. "There. No harm done."

Before Winter can say anything, the porcupine hears her name being called. She waves at someone, then walks away, completely ignoring Winter's angry gaze.

The wolf swings her tail around and puts it on her lap, inspecting it for any further damage.

"Hey, I do that too."

The voice came from her right side. She quickly turns to see a feline occupying the stool next to her. The feline is short, with dusty-brown fur pockmarked with black spots. She smiles at Winter as if she has just found her best friend. "I do that with my tail too," she repeats. "Don't worry. It's fine."

She looks at the feline for a few seconds before turning back to her empty glass. "That seat is reserved."

"Oh? For whom?"

"My boyfriend."

"Okay." She sniffs. "If I may ask, what's his name?"

"Shiloh." Winter simply answered without hesitation. (Not very smart.)

The feline stands up, dusts the seat with the sleeve of her white shirt, and looks at the stool carefully. "Nope. Don't see 'Shiloh' on this stool." She laughs. "I don't see the word 'boyfriend' on it either." She sits back down. "I guess that means this is mine, huh?"

Suddenly, Casey's face appears out of nowhere. It rises from the counter like the sun rises from the horizon. It is now staring at the feline, startling her. He clears his throat. "As long as Winter is sitting here, then her boyfriend sits there." He points at the cat with a threatening tone.

"Hey, I can sit here if I want to. You can't do anything about it, so you can get your finger out of my face now."

"I don't need fingers. I could bitch-slap you with my ears." The bloodhound bends down, then retrieves a shot glass and puts it in front of the feline. "Now order something, then get out of that seat."

While Winter looks on, the spotted cat rolls her eyes. Her smile disappears as she looks at the menu board above the collection of liquor bottles. "Fine, I'll have a scotch and soda."

"That's better." While he goes to carry out the order, Bruno appears with a bottle of gin. He pours some into Winter's glass, then smiles at the wolf. "You know what I like about you? You always pay on time. Now, Shiloh, on the other hand--"

"Don't worry. We just got paid. He can afford the tab now."

Laughing, Bruno leaves to serve other customers. Winter picks up the glass of gin and holds it to her nose. Satisfied by what she smells, she puts it down and cracks the pigeon egg. The feline looks on confusedly as the wolf empties the egg into the gin. The yolk drops inside and floats in the drink. Winter picks up the concoction and puts it to her face.

The feline chuckles as she sees Winter stick her tongue into the drink, breaking the yolk. She gathers the taste in her mouth and smiles. "It's been a while," she says to herself.

The feline laughs. "Listen, if you wanted an egg in your drink, why don't you just order a royal fizz?"

Her enjoyment ruined, Winter sighs and puts down her glass. "I don't know what that is, but it sounds like it has too many ingredients. I just want to taste the egg and the gin together. I don't know much about alcohol, but I love eggs."

Casey returns, putting the feline's order in front of her.

"Well, there's your scotch and soda." Winter picks up her glass and smiles again. "Just hurry before Shiloh gets here."

The spotted cat runs her right hand through her blond hair as she picks up her drink. "Well, I see that I can't win today. Your boyfriend must really be something. I have never been told to leave by so many people."

"Well, he is kind of a star around here."

"That's too bad, 'cuz I really wanted to talk to you."

Winter wriggles her nose as she takes a sip. "I don't know you, and I don't feel like talking to you."

"I don't know you either, but...I've seen what you did."

Unimpressed, Winter stirs the drink with the index finger of her free hand. "Really? What did I do?" She starts to drink.

"I know you killed someone." The feline smiles as she watches the wolf choke down her drink. "I'm sure that's worth me staying here for a couple more minutes. Don't you think so?"

Winter swallows a couple of times, trying to get her drink down. She gathers herself before turning to her unwanted guest, who looks like she has the upper hand. "What are you talking about?!"

"I saw you kill someone. Before you try to deny it, let me explain. I don't really have a house; I can't afford one. I do odd jobs so that I can afford to live in a motel. I now work in a food pantry. It's menial, but it keeps me out of trouble. Anyway, three days ago, I was taking out the trash like I do every other day. I had reached the dumpster a few feet away when I noticed you. There aren't many wolves around that area, and virtually no white ones like you. I mean, the area I work isn't very pure or healthy. So when you see a specimen as fine as you are...um...." She turns away, probably blushing. "Please don't read too much into that, okay? I mean, you were hanging around the curb like you were lost. After I tossed the garbage in the dumpster, I was going to approach you and see if you needed directions. It's something I do since a lot of people get lost around there. You know what I mean?"

Winter had been staring at the feline as if in a trance. After knowing that she had been discovered while doing her job, she just sat there looking at the meddlesome guest. She probably was not listening to anything else after the feline confessed.

"Are you okay?" The feline snaps her fingers, causing Winter to vigorously shake her head. "Look, I'm sorry. I...." She sighs as she sees the wolf's angry face. "Let's be friends, okay? I should introduce myself before I go on. My name is--"

Bruno shows up, causing Winter to shake off the shock. "May I freshen anyone's drink?" The wolf holds up her glass and gets a refill of gin before leaving.

"That was close. I don't want him to hear me."

Winter quickly knocks back her drink. "What...sort of creature are you?"

"I'm an ocelot. Couldn't you tell?" She takes a sip of her scotch. "My name is Tivoli. I moved into LA a month ago. I don't know anyone, except those I work with, and I wouldn't exactly call them friends. They're just a crutch to help me get used to the city before I blow them off for something better. Speaking of friends, I really hope to become one of yours."

Still wary, Winter puts down her drink, looking at the ocelot the whole time. "Not interested."

Tivoli shrugs. "Okay, but I saw you kill someone. With that bit of info, I could make you be my friend. Heaven knows I need one."

It seems the wolf is becoming nervous. She taps her left foot on the floor. "So, what do you want?"

"Hear me out, please. The guy you killed...he was just some homeless loser I pass whenever I take the trash out. Three days ago, I'm doing my job, then I see you standing there. After I dump the trash, I walk back, suddenly I see you pump three into the poor man's chest. I hid behind the dumpster until you left, then I went to check on the poor guy. I made the mistake of touching him to see if he was still alive. I left footprints in the blood. Before I knew it, I had evidence all over me. I took my shoes off, threw them in the dumpster, and ran back to my workplace. I got scared that I would get caught and blamed."

"I was careful." Winter is talking more to herself than to Tivoli. "I used a silencer, so nobody heard. I made doubly sure I wasn't followed. I don't understand how I was seen."

"I was there. That's all. No further explanation is needed. It's something you can't analyze. I take out the garbage like I'm supposed to, so you were in the wrong place, not me."

Winter shakes her head. "This isn't happening."

"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about." She finishes her scotch. "Well...I've finished my drink, so your rock star boyfriend shouldn't be too offended now. I'll just--"

"Wait a minute." Winter stands. "Can we talk away from the bar?"

Tivoli beams brightly. "Like in the restroom?"

"Sure." She walks and the ocelot follows. They leave the bar quickly; Winter shows her anxiety with a fast gait and clenched fists. Her walk is almost uncontrollably fast. She almost bumps into two patrons as she leads Tivoli into the ladies' room. With the shortage of females in the area, privacy should not be an issue.

They run into the female porcupine as she leaves the restroom. Sure enough, once they enter, they are totally alone. Winter checks under every stall, just to make sure. Tivoli looks around her. Everything is bright and white. The tiles shimmer brilliantly. There aren't even any streaks on the mirrors. She looks down at the sink in front of her, totally unaware of the angry wolf creeping up behind her. She chuckles. "Now this is a water closet."