SUMMER OF THE SYMBIOTE

Summer pressed her hand against the side of her neck and winced. For two weeks now it felt like she'd whacked her funny bone but instead of her elbow it was her brain stem. This couldn't be normal. Was it permanent? Should she go to the doctor? Maybe she could sue Spencer for it? She lied back, hoping that some more neck rest would help her think clearer. Above her the ceiling fan spun lazily, circulating the remnants of week old weed stench all around the room.

Growing up she'd done everything right. Every choice she made was carefully curated by the myriad of authority figures in her life. She even got that stupid biology degree her parents wanted her to get. Theoretically, everything should be peachy keen. Why then was she living in a shitty one bedroom apartment at 28 with a boyfriend who hit her? That wasn't supposed to happen to her. That was always something that happened to other people.

The reality was that that she had no money, no health insurance, and no friends. She could always go back to her parents, but doubted they'd be willing to foot the bill for something like this. She imagined their smug, conceited faces beaming down at her droning on about how freelance modelling in fact wasn't a viable career option - as if she hadn't found that out already. They'd smile and pat her shoulder and tell her of all the wonderful office jobs their friends could line up for her. The thought made her pride flare inside her chest - or was that just the anxiety? She couldn't tell anymore.

It was Spencer, she realized. Spencer was the source of her problems. She heard his stupid voice in her head, despite her best attempts to block it out:

"You shouldn't listen to them" he would say "follow your passions, girl! You don't have to listen to anything but your own heart." Nice words. She wondered if he got them out of a fortune cookie.

Once things went south she wondered if all that crap was just a ploy to fuck her everyday instead of just when her parents weren't home, but after that dried up his motives became a mystery. Maybe he just liked keeping her around - which she dismissed immediately. You don't hit things you like. Maybe he felt responsible for her, like she was his little pet, the stray that had nowhere to go. That idea just made her smothered pride blaze even brighter.

Letting her breathing slow she became aware of all the sweat building under and around her tank top. It was hot, too hot to go outside. Her phone said 98, but in the bedroom it felt more like 110. Maybe once nighttime came maybe she'd be able to emerge from her stain ridden cave, but for now she was at least content to listen to the bedside clock tick for another hour or so. Gaze drifting towards the window her eyes traced the fractures up the pane and along the rotting frame. Her neck ached again.

Outside and three floors down a car door slammed. Vaguely Summer heard Spencer's muffled voice below spew profanities. That wasn't a good sign - he always talked to himself when he was upset. Bracing herself, Summer looked up at the ceiling again, soaking in her last moments of alone time. Usually it took him about twenty-five seconds to reach the apartment from the street, but before she'd counted to fifteen she heard the heavy footfalls come down the hallway. On eighteen the front door opened and then closed again. A flurry of clicks and clacks meant he was locking the door.

"What a paranoid freak" she thought.

Moments later the bedroom door opened and in came Spencer, greasy haired and stubble ridden, clutching a silver briefcase against his stained white undershirt. Striding over to the dresser, completely bypassing Summer, he swept aside some DVDs and laid his closely guarded prize on the now vacant top, back facing her.

Summer felt indignant, but not surprised.

"Spence, my neck hurts" she said as he undid the latches on the case. Lifting the lid he froze. She couldn't see what was inside but noticed that Spencer was shaking. "Spence?"

He glanced over his shoulder "I mean whataya want me to do about it?" his gaze returned to the contents of the case.

"You caused it you fucking asshole" she mumbled and instantly regretted.

Spencer looked over his shoulder so fast she thought he was going to swivel around and hit her again. He exhaled in a way that almost sounded like he was laughing "I said I was sorry" he waved his hand dismissively, and turned to face the case again back around again "I dunno what else you fucking want from me"

Summer sat up, swinging her body around so that she sat on the edge of the bed "Can you at least get me something from McDonalds or something?" she rubbed her neck again "I'm fucking starving."

"No time babe" he latched up the case "We're gonna have to stick around for a bit" He ran up to her and reached out his hand. Summer flinched as he grabbed her neck gently and pulled her in for a quick, adrenaline fueled kiss. It still made her neck hurt. "If this works out" he gave a toothy smile "we're going to be set for life."

"Ok, what the fuck are you even talking about?" Spencer always talked like this. The drugs were giving him delusions of grandeur.

He pointed behind him "The thing in that case, once I deliver that to my guy we're gonna be fucking rich" he laughed, his dimples more pronounced than ever "We can do whatever we fucking want. We can get out of this shitty apartment and live where we always wanted."

"And where's that, Spence?"

Spencer shrugged "New York? LA?" Summer didn't smile and soon Spencer's smile faded away. "Fuck you" he said "I don't have fucking time for this" he spun around and made for the door, but stopped "Hey I need to borrow your phone."

"I lost it" Summer picked at her nose.

"Are you fucking kidding me" his hands clutched his head "You just got it! Shit..." he ran his fingers through his hair. Spinning around, his head darted like he was looking for an idea "I'll be back in like fifteen minutes, all right?" he held up a placating hand "I'm gonna try and find a fucking pay phone" and he stormed out of the room.

"I'll be here" she laid back down, her feet still hanging over the edge. She listened as Spencer undid the latches and stepped out, and at last Summer was alone again.

A minute passed and her impatience grew. Spencer would return soon, so now was her only chance to take a look at what he brought. Her bed pulled at her like a laziness magnet as she tried to sit back up again. With a grunt she stood and shuffled around the mounds of dirty clothes on the floor towards the dresser until, back hunched, she stood over the case.

"Wow" she thought as her gaze drifted towards the mirror "Spence must be reeeaaally moving up in the world if he's got a case like this." The oblong glass had cracks along the edges, but otherwise gave her a clear view of her body. Her mocha skin and her shoulder length wavy black hair glistened with summer sweat, and her green eyes sagged with stress and lack of sleep. She made a pouty face and shoved her bust out, but her efforts to seduce herself came up flat.

Returning her attention to the case she pried open the latches (which were much tighter than they looked). Nestled in the foam bed was a cylindrical canister. By the look of it Summer guessed it was eight inches long, maybe three inches across. As she stared at a gloriously petty thought came to her head. She seemed to have a lot of those lately. Grabbing the canister, she held it up to the light and found the groove that signified where its cap was. With both hands she twisted it, but despite her best efforts it wouldn't budge. Just as she was just about to give up a light pneumatic hiss sounded. Tiny clicks like miniature gears turning were met accompanied cap slowly undoing itself. Before Summer could think to put it down, the top slipped off and landed on the hardwood floor with a clatter. A light, white mist wafted from the now-open tube. Summer smiled. Turning the thing upside down she shook it once, then twice before the contents dropped out onto the floor right next to the cap with an audible plop.

She leaned in to look:

"It's just a black blob" she said reaching out with her finger and prodding it lightly.

On the third poke, it shuddered.

"Oh my God! What the fuck!" she scrambled backwards, leaping onto the bed and kicking sheets and blankets in a desperate attempt to get as far from the thing as possible. She couldn't see it, but she heard the sound of it squeaking and spurting on the floor. The sound grew louder, like the thing was getting bigger with each second. Her heart beat fast and she started feeling dizzy. She wanted to go for the door, but decided against it since that would involve walking past the whatever-it-was to get there.

A single, slimy black strand leaped up onto the foot of the bed and clung to the bunched up quilts. Another strand quickly followed, then another one, then another one. They pulled with all their strength, trying to drag something from the floor up with them. When the blankets they hung on to started to slip another strand would emerge to give it more purchase. Summer shook, her terror matched by a strange curiosity that compelled her to stay.

That's when she saw it...

Rolling up onto the end of the bed was the little black blob - only it wasn't a little black blob anymore. The thing had ballooned to nearly twenty times its size, all of it squirming like it was agitated by the strain of getting onto the bed. Once the whole thing had climbed up it froze, like a hunter that had just spotted its prey. Its movements suddenly became more deliberate, like it was measuring her, judging her. Despite her clothes she'd never felt more exposed. Summer watched back, sweating more than ever, her breaths coming out in shallow shudders.

Suddenly a tendril leapt out from the main mass and latched onto her right foot. Summer yelped and jerked her foot back, but the thing wouldn't let go no matter what she did. As the goo wrapped around her toes she felt another sensation. It was alien but at the same time familiar, a deep satisfaction like the feeling Spencer once gave her when they made out. She knew this wasn't normal, but it seeped into her mind all the same, overwhelming all sense and reason. Slowly she wiggled her toes, massaging the strange creature between them. The energy it seemed to feed her made her whole body squirm. One thing was sure: she wanted more of it.

As if reacting to her thoughts, another tendril leapt out and snatched her other foot, and both tendrils in tandem dragged her along the bed until she laid out on her back, hands clutching the sheets. Using her body as an anchor the creature hoisted its mass closer and Summer laughed. This was it. This was the end. She was really about to be eaten by a creepy black blob monster. What's more, she liked it. Could have been worse, at least it let her enjoy her last moments.

Mini tendrils clambered up along the main ones meeting her ankles, and then her shins. They all seemed to be climbing over each other, like they were racing to see who could devour her head first. Once they passed her knees she felt another sensation blossom in her lower legs - a tightening, like her muscles had just had a month's worth of workout in the span of seconds. She could feel the adrenaline flood her brain, overwhelming her so much she almost didn't notice as tendrils snaked their way under the gaps in her skin-tight jean shorts. When the first tendril grazed against her clit Summer shuddered and looked down along her body to see her clothes bulging. This thing wanted to fuck her, but she realized that it was having trouble reaching her.

"Here" she said "how 'bout I help you" she unbuttoned herself and before she even drew her hands away a flurry of whipping tendrils erupted from the newly created gap and tore apart the rest of her shorts and panties along the inseam. The freed tendrils hovered poised, and Summer knew what was coming next and braced for it. With a snap they came together and plunged right between her folds, squirming and burrowing, pushing an ecstatic, bellowing scream from Summer's lips.

Slipping up over her hips and over her belly it felt like her flat little stomach was being shrink-wrapped. Every few in inches another tendril would lash out and tear her top just a little bit more until it finally came to just underneath her breasts. Once it was clear her tank top wasn't going to survive she sat up and tore the rest of it off, shrugging the strap off her shoulders and tossing the leftover rags to the floor. She wasn't wearing a bra, so her vulnerable body was now completely exposed - and everything felt right. It was at this point, looking down along her half engulfed body, that she realized the thing wasn't trying to eat her at all. What was it doing then?

Before she could consider that, the material that had bunched under her breasts leapt up like a wave, slamming down hard against her nipples and forcing Summer to bite her lip. She grabbed a handful between her fingers. It clung to her breasts like tape, but she wasn't trying to pull it off. No she just wanted to touch it, to feel it between her fingers as it squirmed, yearning for every last morsel of her skin. It felt so cool, like chilled liquid rubber.

"Do you like it" a voice in her head whispered. It sounded like a younger Spencer.

"Fuck yes" another wave of tightening seized her muscles "Oh God...what the fuck are you doing to me?"

"Silly girl" Summer's pride flared again "we just want to help you...make you better."

Some of the goo had separated from the main mass and was wrapping around her hands. She held them aloft and saw them wrap around her fingers. Instead of stopping at the end the built and built, narrowing and tapering until her human digits were replaced with vicious talons, like glistening ice-picks.

"What do you get out of it you pervy shit?" she grinned wryly.

"We need chemicals...chemicals only beings like you can provide..." she felt it vibrate inside of her and her hips bucked "please let us bond with you...let us engulf you...enhance you...make you perfect."

The rest rolled up her chest and collar bone and clambered down the length of her arm until it was whole again. With her entire body up to her neck covered she rolled her shoulders, testing her arms and wiggling her now clawed toes with delight.

"This your idea of perfect?" Summer said.

"You disapprove?" it vibrated again lightly.

"No it feels great" she said closing her eyes and smiling "But you said perfect. All I see is a glorified fetish suit"

"Oh, you think we're done?"

Summer had only a split second to consider what it meant. Her whole body seized and a guttural moan erupted from her throat. Leaping at the opportunity, the creature clambered up her neck and onto her face. Suddenly she felt afraid. She clawed at it, pulled at it but her muscles felt weak. Rolling over her chin it forced its way into her open mouth, making her gag. She felt her hair being bunched up and pressed underneath a hood that soon engulfed her whole scalp. It slithered around her eyes and slipped between them, devouring them and plunging her whole world into complete darkness.

All sensation ceased. Even her sense of physical self-seemed to melt away. Nothing remained except a soft whisper, words she couldn't make out that none-the-less made her feel angry, lustful, desired, furious...but above all predatory.

The first thing that came back was the sound of her breath - or at least she thought it was her breath. It sounded husky, like a cross between a large dog and heavy smoker. Her sense of touch returned next. She felt every single fiber of the bed beneath her along with soft movements of the air against her skin from the spinning fan. Even the pain in her neck was gone. To Summer it felt like she was completely naked, even when she knew that wasn't the case.

The other senses quickly followed, with her eyesight, hearing, and smell seemingly accentuated ten-fold. She looked down at herself and gasped. Her skin had become a glossy black. Her breasts had become perfectly formed, firm mounds against her chest. As she shifted on the bed she became aware of her enlarged ass. Her excited breathing came faster and faster. She was eager to see her new self in its entirety.

Swinging her toned legs over the side she stood up and couldn't help but chuckle. The ease at which her body moved made her feel like she was floating. All she had to do was think and her body would obey. Her hips bounced from side to side as she sauntered over to the mirror. She imagined she was walking on a runway and envisioned a massive crowd of imaginary people adoring her. Stepping over the canister on the floor she stood in front of the mirror over the dresser and gasped.

Staring back at her was a monstrous, vaguely human creature about her height (maybe a bit taller). Its whole body was covered head to toe in a skin-tight glossy bodysuit and its musculature was toned and defined with everything from her bombshell hips to her breasts was proportioned just beneath the threshold of believability. Emblazoned across and shaped to the contours of her chest was a pure white spider symbol. Nothing about the skin left anything to the imagination save the smooth, featureless surface on its crotch. The most striking feature though was the bald head. In place of eyes were two white patches, angled, pointed, and frayed to look as ferocious as possible. A mouth of razor sharp fangs stretched from ear to ear, far larger than a normal human mouth. Curious, she parted the fangs and half her face seemed to open. A long, serpent like pink tongue spilled out and bobbed prehensily like another limb. The mouth and tongue both secreted a neon green slime that dripped in sickening globs into the still open case.

It was right, she was perfect.

The once timid girl who'd always caved in to everything anyone told her to do was gone, replaced with a superior being of sheer physical and sexual power. She felt the urge to touch herself all over. Guiding her hands down her flank her palms seemed to glide along the flawless, frictionless surface. With her thumb and forefinger she pinched herself on top of her right breast and pulled. Even with her apparent super strength she only managed to pull it an inch before it slipped out of her grasp and slapped back into shape.

Suddenly she felt something. At first it was just felt like a mental twinge, but quickly evolved into what she could only describe as a "presence." It was Spencer, he was coming back. She didn't know how she knew. Probably another perk of the suit.

A fire rose inside her chest again - a different one. There was certainly pride there, but also anger, indignation, and an overwhelming desire to get back at her so-called lover in the most extreme way possible. She walked out into the main room and with each step the flame grew brighter. In seconds her desire to get back at him blossomed into outright bloodlust. She could feel his footsteps as he scrambled up the stairs of the apartment stairwell.

Leaping into the air she pressed her fingertips onto the cracked ceiling and instantly clung to the surface. With a swing of her legs and hips, her feet followed. Now she knew why the spider symbol was there. With effortless ease she was able to crawl along. Her love for the suit grew as she wondered to herself, what other powers her beautiful other had in store for her. As she made her way towards the front door she heard his footsteps coming down the hall. Positioning herself on the wall upside down she quickly found a place just above the door frame. Within moments, the door opened and her prey entered.

"Summer" He called "pack your things we're leaving! Hurry up, o.k?" Summer watched as he snatched assorted clothes off the floor. She followed him, hovering just above his head. It was a game, and it was all she could do not to laugh. With the grace of a gymnast she released her grip on the ceiling and slipped down to the floor. Standing tall she made a pose, ready for her debut. She hissed ever so slightly, and Spencer paused.

"Holy shit, Summer you-" he turned and his eyes went wide "Summer, what the fuck did you do?"

"Awwwwwww" she tilted her head and bore her fangs "You don't like us?" she took a step forward and Spence retreated. With every advance she made he stepped back until his heel caught on a pile of dirty clothes, sending him toppling backwards with a yelp. Quickly she sprang, leaping towards him and gripping his shoulders. Spence gasped as he hit the floor and Summer mounted him. Opening her maw she let her tongue slip out, letting it graze his face and coat it in a thin layer of putrid slime. She felt a wet patch form in his pants. It looked like he was about to cry.

She needed to rub it in. She wanted him to see her face, her human face. She clamped her jaws shut, meshing her teeth together like a boney curtain. Inside her mouth she felt her gooey tongue and slime coagulate, and as they meshed she began to regain a sense of her normal human features: her nose, her cheeks, her mouth. When the shifting stopped the fanged gates parted as far as her hairline and chin, like a snake about to swallow its prey, and Summer felt the humid air waft against her face again.

"Mmmmm" she cooed licking her lips "thank you for bringing home this gift for us honey" she caressed the side of her face with her claws "It feels so good on us...and inside of us" her claw went down to where her pussy would be and sensuously stroked it. Spencer's erection was very apparent.

"J-Summer" he stuttered "You've gotta get that thing off. It's messin' with your head. You have no idea what it'll do to you." He tried to move, but with every attempt Summer pressed him down even harder.

"Maybe I don't" she closed her eyes and allowed the jaws to clamp shut over her face. Immediately her head reformed and reshaped, melting and forming into her beautiful, monstrous form. "But I'm willing to find out."

Spencer started to cry. His sobs came in pathetic, blubering heaves. "Please" he struggled against her grip "don't kill us. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you! I'll never do it again!"

"Oh" she leaned in towards his ear "We know you won't" she reared back, fangs at the ready.

"No! NO!"

She loved how he screamed when he realized his pleas for mercy weren't worth shit.

She loved the feeling of her fangs pressing against the skin of his neck for a split second before piercing it and digging into the soft flesh of his trachea.

She loved how his screams became garbled like drowning as blood erupted around his torn vocal cords.

She loved how powerful her jaws felt as she tore out his throat with a jerk of her neck.

She loved how his muscles all seemed to go limp at the same time as he flopped onto the floor at her release.

She loved the sensations the red liquid against her tongue - all metallic, warm, and sticky.

All these things she loved because her other loved them. All these things fed her long dormant pleasure centers with a high her normal self never dreamed of. All her life people told her to manage her ego. They always told her that she needed to measure her expectations and accept that she wasn't as extraordinary as she thought. Fuck those people. From here on out, with the help of her perverted, transformative little friend, she was going to finally get everything she ever wanted.

So now what?

"Everything" the voice whispered "we shall live...deliciously."

She had to leave, that she knew, but first she had to deal with the problem at hand. Spencer had enemies, but folks would get suspicious if they found his bloody corpse with her missing. They might try to find her. They might start asking questions. They might find out. They might try to separate her from her other. None of these things she could not abide, and the soft affirmation from her other confirmed that. She had to hide the body. She had to make him go missing. No one would miss him, after all, but how was she going to do it?

Another notion creeped into her mind, a sickening notion, one that made her salivate all over her late boyfriend's corpse. She licked the leftover blood from her fangs, basking in the sweet flavor of human flesh. With every second the hunger grew, to the point where she knew she really had no choice. She did tell Spence she was starving after all.