Chapter 21: The Shark Tank (Part III)

—— The Blood Bait

Midnight. 02:17 AM.

The surface of the shark tank began to churn with a grotesque, visceral crimson. It wasn’t the scheduled feeding time, yet the metallic scent of fresh blood began to waft up from the depths, thick and suffocating, as if someone had opened an artery at the very bottom of the abyss.

Inside the acrylic cage, the clinical white lights flickered twice and died.

A heartbeat later, the emergency red lights pulsed to life, bathing the underwater cell in a rhythmic, hellish glow. A low, vibrating hum—resembling the mournful song of a dying whale—reverberated through the obsidian walls. Ava snapped awake, her body tensed.

Click.

The magnetic lock on the floor hissed as it disengaged. The titanium chain around her ankle fell away, the weight suddenly gone. She stood, her bare feet pressing against the cold metal floor. The entire island was vibrating, a deep-seated tremor that suggested the foundation itself was being torn apart.

Landon’s voice crackled through the intercom. For the first time since she had arrived, his unshakable composure had cracked.

"...All security teams to Sub-Level Three! I repeat, move to Sub-Level Three immediately!"

The transmission was swallowed by the staccato rhythm of gunfire, the muffled thunder of explosions, and the agonizing screech of twisting metal. It sounded as if an invisible giant were peeling the island open from the inside out.

Ava walked to the glass wall.

Outside, the twelve Great White Sharks had descended into a state of total, primal madness. They were no longer the silent ghosts of the deep; they were frenzied monsters. They breached the surface vertically, crashing back down into the water with enough force to send plumes of blood-red spray against the acrylic.

Margaret, the ancient matriarch, turned sharply. Her massive, scarred head slammed into the glass with the force of a wrecking ball.

BOOM!

A hairline fracture spiderwebbed across the acrylic wall.

Ava’s lips curved into a true smile—a beautiful, terrifying expression of vindication. She leaned closer to the glass, her voice a mere ghost of a whisper that only the predators could hear.

"Dinner is served."

In the next instant, the heavy door to the cell was blown off its hinges.

Through the swirling haze of cordite and smoke, a figure emerged from the fire. Sebastian stood there, his long black trench coat soaked in blood that wasn't his own. His silver-gray eyes burned like twin blades forged in the fires of hell. The makeshift bandage on his left hand was saturated with scarlet, drops of blood hitting the floor with a rhythmic thud, mixing with the stains Ava had left behind.

He took a step toward her, his voice a broken rasp.

"...Ava."

Ava stared at him, her defiance finally crumbling into a wall of tears. She stumbled toward him, half-running, half-falling, until she reached him. She grabbed the lapels of his coat, her fingers trembling so violently she could barely hold on.

"Sebastian... you shouldn't have come..." she sobbed into his chest. "He has three thousand men... the seabed is a minefield... you’re going to die..."

Sebastian didn't offer empty platitudes. He simply leaned down and kissed the tears from her eyes, the taste of salt and iron lingering on his tongue. His voice was a soft sigh, yet it held the weight of an eternal vow.

"I gave my life to the devil the moment he took you," he whispered. "I’m just here to collect the debt."

He reached down to lift her, his touch as gentle as if he were handling the finest, most fragile porcelain. But Ava stopped him. She leaned into his ear, her voice dropping to a low, cold register.

"Wait."

She turned, her bare feet padding softly across the floor toward the master control console.

Thirty days. For thirty days, she had watched Landon’s fingers move across these keys. She had memorized every sequence, every override. Her fingers danced over the buttons with lethal precision.

The main screen flashed a warning in jagged, blood-red letters: [FEEDING PROGRAM: OVERLOAD INITIALIZED. COUNTDOWN 00:00:30]

Landon’s voice exploded through the speakers, completely unhinged now. "Ava! What are you doing?!"

Ava didn’t look at the camera. She turned her head slightly to smile at Sebastian—a smile as radiant and deadly as a blood-soaked rose. "I’m sending him a parting gift."

30... 29... 28...

Above the shark tank, the twelve massive bait-dispersal hatches groaned open simultaneously.

It wasn't the usual cattle blood or pig offal. Landon had been storing ten tons of fresh human blood and shark pheromones for his "experiments." Now, it all cascaded into the pool in a singular, sickening deluge.

The water turned into a boiling cauldron of gore. The twelve Great Whites went beyond frenzy; they became a singular machine of destruction. They began to tear into one another, muscle and bone flying through the water. Margaret sank her teeth into the flank of a smaller male, ripping away half his tail in a single bite. The water in the tank turned so dark with blood it was no longer transparent.

By the time Landon burst into the control room with his personal guard, the scene had shifted.

Ava was sitting in the high-backed command chair. Her legs were crossed, one bare foot dangling, swinging back and forth with casual elegance. She looked like a dark queen surveying her ruined kingdom. Sebastian stood half a step behind her, the barrel of his suppressed pistol pressed firmly against the center of Landon’s forehead.

Ava looked up. Her eyes were no longer the eyes of the girl who had been kidnapped thirty days ago. They had been tempered in the depths of the shark tank, forged into something black, hard, and impenetrable.

"Landon Voss," she whispered, her voice like a lover’s caress. "It seems your hounds have turned on their master."

Landon looked at the monitors—at the carnage in the tank, the literal bloodbath he had created—and then he looked at her. A jagged, broken laugh escaped him. It sounded like a man who had finally found his god.

"Little Rose," he rasped, "how quickly you learn."

He raised his hands, signaling his mercenaries to lower their weapons. Then, he took a step toward her. He didn't fight. He didn't scream. Instead, he sank to one knee before her chair. He reached out and grasped her blood-stained foot, his touch reverent, and pressed a kiss to her instep. His voice trembled with a terrifying, ecstatic submission.

"Master."

Ava looked down at him, her fingers weaving into his hair. The gesture was tender, almost romantic, until she suddenly knotted her fist and yanked his head back, forcing him to look up into her cold, dead eyes.

"Lick it clean," she commanded. Her voice was ice.

Landon’s pupils blew wide. A tremor of shock—and perhaps a sick kind of thrill—ran through him. Slowly, he leaned down. His tongue flicked out, tasting the shark-pool blood that had splashed onto her skin. He did it with the devotion of a man at an altar.

Sebastian’s grip on his gun tightened, the muzzle digging a deep circle into Landon’s skin. "Enough," he snarled, his voice vibrating with lethal jealousy.

But Ava shook her head. She let out a soft, airy laugh that sounded like a sigh of relief.

"Let him, Sebastian," she said softly. "From this day on... we are the ones who keep the dogs."

She paused, her fingertips sliding down Landon’s face to rest on his Adam’s apple. She pressed down just enough to make him choke.

"From now on, your name is 'Dog.' If you utter a single word of dissent, I will drop you into that tank to join your pets."

Landon looked up at her, and in his eyes, there was no regret—only a twisted, absolute worship. "Yes... Master."

Ava finally let out a breath she felt she’d been holding for a month. Tears finally began to fall, hot and real. She stood up and pressed a kiss to Sebastian’s throat, her voice a secret meant only for him.

"Sebastian... the first drop of blood... I took it."

Sebastian lowered his weapon slowly. The madness in his silver eyes was replaced by a heart-wrenching mixture of pride and devastating sorrow. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, his voice thick with emotion.

"Then it's my turn to do the rest."

Outside the cell, the Pacific was a sea of red. The sharks continued to tear each other apart, flesh and bone bobbing on the surface like a grand, sacrificial offering to a new deity.

And there, in the center of the fire and the blood, stood Ava.

For the first time in her life, she had tasted power. And it was more intoxicating than any wine Landon had ever served her.