"Ugh… dammit, why does everything hurt?" Eddie Brock groaned as he forced himself off the couch, his whole body sweating like a sinner in a church; last night had to be the foggiest night in his career as a reporter. That girl from the Life Foundation, Jenny… whatever her last name was… Brock wasn't really paying attention to names, just the story.

Anyway, what she said about the Life Foundation; about Carlton Drake, it was all true. He wouldn't have believed it himself if he didn't see it firsthand. The whole Symbiote story still sounded like bullshit, but what Drake was doing to those people in that building… how could anyone sleep at night knowing they were intentionally causing someone that much pain? The only part of this whole thing worthwhile is that Eddie has the proof to put the bastard behind bars; everything he saw has been recorded in his camera right before the security went off and was jumped by that mad woman. He left it right on his coffee… table.

"Where is it?" Eddie said to himself as he moved the papers around his table. "Where the fuck's my camera?" Eddie threw papers aside onto the floor, desperately searching for the device that could shut down the Life Foundation. Eddie kept searching until he remembered he dropped the camera last night while fleeing the building, and it was crushed beneath the tire of a truck. "God Dammit!" Eddie slammed his palms on the wooden table; frustrated that he risked his career and person for nothing.

"Ah!" Brock screamed in pain as his whole body felt like it was being ripped apart. "Why does everything hurt?" Instinctively, Eddie forced himself up off the couch; nearly losing his balance as his legs temporarily turned to jelly, and rushed over to the painkillers he kept in the kitchen cabinet. He grabs the orange container with the pills he needed, he tried opening them but the sweat on his palms prevented him from getting a proper grip. "Come on you son of a…"

[Click.]

"Thank you." Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as he poured nearly three times the required dosage into his palms; popping them all into his mouth before guzzling down a large glass of water. He didn't care if that was safe or not, he wanted the pain gone. Eddie breathed in and out as he continued to sweat until he felt a pain in his stomach and ran to the bathroom; he silently prayed he wasn't getting sick. This night tonight is the two-year anniversary with the love of his life, Anne, and so help him, God, he was not going to miss it.

When Eddie reached the bathroom sink, he gripped it tightly as he coughed up the pills and water with much discomfort; he looked in the mirror and looked the same as he felt. Whatever bug he contracted today or yesterday, or whenever he got it; he hoped it would be gone soon. His body continued to ache, sweat and burn as he gripped the bathroom sink much tighter as if he was about to rip it from the wall; panting like a dog.

Eddie.

Eddie jumped away from the washbowl upon hearing the mysterious, demonic-sounding voice, accidentally falling back into the tub and hitting his head. "Ah fuck!" Brock shouted in pain, he quickly stood himself up and ran back into the living room out of frustration. "Whoever's here, get the hell out of my apartment before I call the cops!"

A moment of silence passes with no response or a single sound being made except his breathing. Did he just hear things? Was it the sickness playing tricks on his mind? No… he heard someone… something… in this building.

You're afraid, aren't you. Don't be.

Eddie's head shot up as he looked around his apartment, his breathing intensifying.

Calm down.

"Where are you?" Eddie shouted as he kept spinning in place; searching for the source of the sound.

Calm down.

"Are you in my head? Are you outside my door? Where are you… what are… what are you?"

I said, calm down!

"Oof!" Eddie grunted as his body slammed against the wooden floor on its own.

You're breathing was sporadic and unhealthy for us.

"Us?" Eddie asked himself as he tried to push himself up, before sighing and silently laughing like a mentally ill man. "Oh, you're just in my head… I really must be sick then." Eddie darkly joked as he rolled himself onto his back. "So, what are you? Are you my Jiminy Cricket? My conscious personified? Or are you like Tony from the Shining? You're not going to make me write redrum on the walls, are you? Because my landlord would be unhappy about that."

Think of me as a friend who wants to make you great; make us great.

"Oh, I see now, you're like that fucked up bunny rabbit from Donnie Darko." Eddie jested as he remained on the floor. "Well, I ain't buying whatever it is you're selling; so, get out of my head."

Aren't you curious about what we could become together?

"I'm not making a deal with a figment of my imagination."

I assure you; I'm more real than you realize.

"I'm not listening to you anymore."

Join with me, Eddie.

"I said, I am not listening," Eddie repeated as he placed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the voice.

You cannot deny what you really want forever.

"This conversation is over," Eddie said much louder as he stood himself up, still covering his ears.

Accept my gift I wish to give to you…

"Shut up."

And we…

"Shut up." Eddie raised his tone.

Shall be…

"Shut up." Eddie raised his tone much louder.

Unstoppable.

"Shut up!" Brock shouted as he struck his fists against the coffee table, smashing it into pieces. Eddie breathed in and out as he regained his composure; after a moment of inhaling and exhaling, he looked around and witnessed what he had done. He backed away from the broken remains of the furniture to the closest wall; slumping down with a mixture of so many unwell emotions he could not describe. "What the fuck is happening to me?" Eddie asked as he clasped his face, nearly on the verge of tears.