Metal Gear Solid Venom Novels & Stories

Three days later, Raven found herself deeper in Diamondback territory than ever before, sitting across from Venom in his private office above the Black Fang. The room was a study in controlled menace—expensive furniture mixed with obvious displays of wealth and power. Stacks of cash sat openly on side tables, and she could see the outline of at least three different weapons within easy reach of his chair. "Your first assignment went well," Venom said, pouring himself a glass of aged whiskey. He didn't offer her one, which she took as both an insult and a test. "Snake was impressed with your composure under pressure."

Raid rolled in the opposite direction, already firing back, taking cover behind an overturned crate. “Move!” I shouted. We split without another word. I sprinted forward, sliding across the concrete, my shoulder slamming into a stack of barrels as bullets chased me. One clipped my arm, hot and sharp, tearing through skin. I growled but didn’t slow down. Something broke inside me at once, and I already knew what it was, the Ashen Venom. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, my vision sharpening until everything felt too clear, too loud, too fast.

The heavy silence in the decontamination airlock was shattered only by the relentless hum of the Acheron's atmospheric scrubbers. The Vanguard Commander stood perfectly still, a monolithic figure in vantablack armor, analyzing the raw desperation radiating from Dante and Elara. His polarized visor reflected their battered forms: Dante, bruised and defiant, wielding a crude titanium wrench like a broadsword; and Elara, shivering yet resolute, her thumb resting millimeters from the data drive’s biometric kill-switch. The four mercenaries flanking the Commander kept their suppressed submachine guns leveled, the crimson laser sights forming a constellation of lethal intent across Dante’s chest.

Vortex surged diad-full primal, plasma-core hammering armored vein-heart relentless—chitin shattering cascade visceral, rift shrieking reality-tear agony-fracture, backlash-quake colossal hurling formation tumbling ruins-wide gore-slick but diad-anchor firm unbreakable, bodies locked hips-grind power-throb. Seal locked brutal savage—armored vein scarring fibrous violet-storm thicker pulsating, rift slamming thunderclap cataclysm foundations-cracking absolute rending-scream. Silence crashed heavier suffocating, guardians dissolving chitin-wisps accelerated dissolving, hunger-voice receding learning-echo deeper throaty: ...noted exquisite. Third vein hungers personal... heirs' blood calls rutt

I smirked internally at my evil plan, I allowed him push deeper into my throat before wrapping my teeth around his layer and sinking it right in. His moaned grew wide turning to a scream as my action gave satisfying result. I left my teeth sunk in there, pressing it harder. “Bitch!” His painful voice hollered before he smack my head forcefully tearing his dick away from my mouth. His steps staggered away from me, as blood spilled down from his dick. I had successfully invented a cut on him with my teeth, it went deeper when he forcefully ripped himself away from me. My tongue stuck licking off the blood that rolled down my bursted lip, the pain I earned from his hard smack.

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She moved the gun back to the left, to where the vehicle was parked and looked into her scope where she saw a couple who frequented the place, walk past the car into the casino. A minute passed before the back door opened and Vladimir walked briskly to his car. She moved the gun slowly, as the criss cross mark in the scope traced his head, as he moved across the open space, till he got to his vehicle. The moment he stopped to open it, that was when she squeezed the trigger. A second later, the window of the car was painted with blood and brain matter as Vladimir fell to the ground. She dismantled the gun, packed the parts into the bag, and wore her wig and sunglasses, and made her way ba

He fought down a smile. Liv's breaths came quickly as her eyes locked on his body. He had muscles she hadn't even known existed. He was like a marble sculpture, all hard planes and valleys, veins popping out from his extraordinary muscles. When his thumbs tugged down his briefs, her breath caught in anticipation, but he shifted before Liv could even get a glance at what was under the black cloth. She jerked in surprise. Between one blink and the next, he'd gone from a muscled Viking warrior to a huge, white wolf. He was so large she thought he looked like one of the Dire wolves from Game of Thrones.

The man met Damian’s eyes through the gap and lifted a gloved hand. “Cavendish,” he said in a voice like gravel. “You always were predictable.” Damian’s reply was not words. It was motion. He lunged forward with the ferocity of a man who had been hollow and then refilled with righteous blood. The mercenary he held went down. The other pushed toward the door, and Cole slammed a strike that echoed in the tin. But the armored vehicle wasn’t a barrier against bullets. Panels split, vents hissed—and from the belly of the machine, a drone rolled out. It was squat and fast and moved like a hunting beetle. It took the air, and then the container suddenly filled with a sound like a swarm.

I teased him, "You just ate your words." "It's for your good. Trust me on this one, but don't trust me too much." I grunted in frustration, as I walked out towards my balcony. I was about to lean against the railings when suddenly Doom ran towards me as we rolled on the floor and heard a gunshot. The bullet was etched on the back wall where I was standing earlier. "It aimed at my head."