Michael Morbius (POV)

Inside the container holding the Carnage symbiote, the symbiote lashed out ferociously at the glass walls of its cage as Morbius drew near. It recoiled in itself before striking out again in greater strength, it's tendrils breaking off into dozens of pointed, needle-line pins that scraped against the glass. The sides of the container trembled under the angry attack, but remained as intact and enforced as Morbius designed it to be.

Good.

He grinned down at it, grazing the glass with a clawed finger in a gentle stroke- almost in a caress. He's always loved the Carnage symbiote. It was so powerful, so bloodthirsty. It had the hungry drive of any animal to destroy anything, kill everyone, and survive everything. It was incredibly adaptive too, as it so elegantly showed with the Carnage Queen. It was a pity she didn't survive though, thanks to those stupid "heroes" and their interference in everything. But perhaps the Queen could be resurrected, he mused, in due time.

He moved away from the red symbiote, watching as it continued to attack the glass even with him not around. So destructive.

But he turned his attention to the containment unit off to the side by 5 feet. Inside, the inky substance of Venom filled the container a third of the way up, keeping itself in a group at the bottom, like a puddle. Not so much as a ripple or a tendril came from it. Unlike when it was first created when it was just as angry and violent as Carnage is now. However, it seems to have calmed, so as long as it wasn't disturbed, which was quite odd actually - especially for a symbiote.

Despite its odd behavior, there was something beautiful about the Venom symbiote that Morbius found lacked in both Carnage and Anti-Venom. A certain characteristic of strength and intelligence that made it original and deadly in its own way. It was almost scary if Morbius wasn't confident he could handle anything Venom tried to do or attempt. The way it had calmed, in a way, made it seem like it was thinking...or observing.

But Morbius's pulled his gaze from the black puddle of goop and looked over to the last empty container on the other side of Carnage. The soon-to-be home for Anti-Venom, just as soon as he and Otto finished creating it. Once that was complete, he'd have all three symbiotes under Hydra control - which was Crossbones first order when he allowed him to continue with the experiments Spider-Man. And, speaking of his subject, he needed to go check on him. His act of forcing Alpha S into the white hall had put a real toll on the boy. As soon as the subject fell unconscious, he was kept in sedation and fed through a tube before being put back into the straitjacket and sent to the White Room. He was probably awake by now, though. Morbius crossed the threshold of the room and sat at a deserted desk in a far corner, pushed up against the wall well away from Dr. Octavius and his spiteful glares. The screen of his laptop lit up brightly as soon as he pulled the top up, already in display of the video feed of Subject Alpha S's cell.

He was awake, as Morbius suspected, and up and moving around. The subject was pacing the floor erratically as his mouth bounced up and down in muted words under his breath; his head was shaking side to side as if denying something that Morbius couldn't possibly begin understand. Around his neck, the metal collar constructed by Octavius was fastened tightly at the base of his jugular with just enough room for him to be able to breathe evenly.

Morbius watched for a moment, trying to discern what the kid could be saying as he scratched his chin thoughtfully. Aside from silent muttering that didn't make much sense, the subject was incredibly tight-lipped. Crossbones was getting more and more irritated their lack of information with each passing day, now constantly calling upon Morbius to ask if there was any new information on Fury's whereabouts, or if there was any progress or anything of value observed. Which, apparently, advances with the symbiote production wasn't considered "valuable" or "progressive", cause Crossbones wasn't interested in any of that.

Honestly, Morbius could care less about Nick Fury and this S.H.I.E.L.D agent that Crossbones was so obsessed with. Granted, said agent could see all possible futures and was a prize to anyone, but it just seemed like they were running around in circles with the whole thing. Instead of chasing their tail like a dog, he reflected, Hydra needed to focus it's efforts and resources on the production going on his lab. Crossbones needed to see the bigger picture.

The symbiotes. They were the key to finding Nick Fury and this mystery agent. Not Spider-Man. Peter Parker was just something Crossbones was lucky to stumble upon when tracking Octavius down. What he didn't realize was that by capturing Spider-Man he had almost guaranteed his success, and not because the kid MIGHT know where Fury was. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Crossbones wasn't even fit to rule Hydra. He was ill-mannered and impatient and irrational. By sending that little "gift" to S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, he had roused the superhero community into finding one of their own, making Hydra's ultimate goal nearly impossible with the likes of the Avengers and X-Men running into New York like a giant infestation. If he had only listened to the council Morbius had to offer then things would be a whole lot different right now.

But let Crossbones play leader. Morbius just needed a little more time before he could unleash his own plan. He looked down at Peter Parker more intently. The subject was all he needed right now, and once his use was fulfilled then there was no need for him. Down on the screen, Parker's pacing faltered as he suddenly jerked right and looking around the room wildly. Blue eyes were blown wide as he jerked the other direction just as suddenly, before stumbling backward only to trip over his own feet and collapse on the floor. Morbius's mouth twitched upward.

But then, a rapid jerking motion caught his eyes and he turned his head. Back in the Venom-unit, the black goop had been roused from its calm state and was suddenly reaching up on a side of the container and scratching at the glass. The action repeated; four pointed digits, almost like claws, slid down the sides, dragging the points tips along the glass in elongation. It fell back down at the bottom of the container before pushing up again and the action was repeated again and again and again.

Curious, Morbius left the computer to get a closer look. It's action didn't falter as he approached but spurred on frantically in his presence as if worried it wouldn't accomplish it's goal before he got there. Morbius stopped just short of the containment unit. This was weird. The V-symbiote hasn't acted this way for a while since now. What could possibly be riling it up?

"It is sensing Spider-Man," a voice said from behind. From the corner of his eye, Morbius saw Octavius watching from his corner. "It can sense his distress no doubt. It's trying to go to him." the man continued.

"Is that so?" Morbius hummed, keeping his back to Otto. He didn't want the other scientist to actually think he cared about what he said. "Then tell me, Otto, why it hasn't the symbiote done this before? How can you tell if it is Spider-Man it is sensing?"

"Because," Octavius huffed, "You have not given it a vessel to bond with, thus it's connection with Spider-Man remains unbroken," he shuffled to the side to get a better look at Venom. "Back when I constructed the first Venom, it broke it's container and escaped my lab to find Spider-Man and rebond with him. And it succeeded, for a little while. "

"If this is so, then why hasn't the symbiotes you've created over the years done the same thing?"

"Because, you simpleton, as soon as the symbiote bonds itself to someone else it automatically connects to them and their neuro system and the connection between it and Spider-Man dissolves into nearly nothing. But seeing how you have denied it a host for weeks, it's desire to return to where it came from is only growing stronger." Octavius's eyes flickered back over the camera feed showing Spider-Man scrunched up in the corner of his cell, mouth moving frantically in words that couldn't be heard. "Unless you want to see Venom's fury unleashed, I'd suggest you find it a host to bond with, and fast."

Morbius continued to stare at the symbiote. "It's not ready," he said.

"Not ready." Otto fumed angrily. "Unless you want Venom to escape from your grasp, which it will, then find it someone to bond with! Sate its desire for a host."

"That's not going to happen." Morbius objected as he straightened up. "I can't bond Venom with anyone until I find a way to properly control it. I will not have it losing control and turning on me, as it has done so many times with you."

Otto scoffed and moved around irritably. "As if your Carnage Queen was so easily controlled," he snapped. "She attacked you just as Venom had me."

"I had control of her."

"No for long," Otto sneered. "If Spider-Man and his teammates hadn't interfered, the symbiote would've found a way around your little mind-controlling device, I assure you. The symbiote can't be controlled, especially Carnage, and Especially by someone with the likes of you."

Morbius's folded wings twitched irritably and he bared his teeth. "Don't push me Octopus!" he warned. "Or you will soon come to regret."

Octavius sniffed, mouth opening to retort before he paused and turned away. Morbius was almost disappointed. Ever since the collar came off, Octavius has been like this. Spiteful and irritating with his snide comments and snooty answers. The longer they continued to be in the same room, the more Morbius was sure he would be unable to hold back from draining the very life from him. The only thing really stopping him was the fact that this was Octavius's life force and it doesn't sound very good to absorb to begin with. That and the man happened to have an acute knowledge of anything involved in symbioses. Unfortunately, he was valuable to their cause.

Morbius eyed Octavius a few seconds more before looking back toward the symbiote. It was still scratching against the glass, this time with renewed vigor. He looked at it, then at the live image of Spider-Man hunched in the corner of his cell, and he hummed thoughtfully. Despite Octavius's lack of faith in him, he was still right. Morbius couldn't allow the symbiote to rebond with Spider-Man. With however frail the kids' mind was at, it would be nothing to the power and will of a symbiote wanting to go back to where it belonged, and even Morbius knew how bad that would be for both him and Hydra if that was ever the circumstance. He'd have to find something to sate the Venom symbiotes needs.

But for now, he glanced at the watch on his wrist, there were other things he needed to attend to. He didn't say anything to Octavius as he pushed a button near the base of the stands holding the containers in place where instantly a thick, metal enforced shield slid up around all three of the containers, locking them in place with a loud and audible click. Might as well be cautious.

After that, he picked up two things from his desk, a pen and folder, before heading out of the lab. The last thing he saw before the doors closed on him was the vacant look on Octavius's face as he stared at a wide-eyed, trepidated Spider-Man huddled far into a corner as he muttered silent words to himself. Let Otto festered in his thoughts, Morbius had other important things to attend to.

He locked the room behind him. Otto wouldn't get far with the electrified chains he had outfitted with, so there was no need to worry about any escapes. Morbius tucked the file under his arm as he turned away, only offering a fleeting nod toward the guards stationed at lab door before he left.

The facility they were currently held up in was a nice one. Nicer than the ones located under storage containers and sewers anyway. Instead of cargo holds and filthy tunnels, they were in an actual facility located outside of New York. There they finally had strong, constructed rooms with all the equipment he needed to perform his experiments, it provided spacious cover, and it was away from the beehive of superheroes buzzing along in the heart of the city. It was the perfect place for them for however long their secret lasted. Sooner or later he KNEW Crossbones was going to slip up and Hydra would be compromised, again.

Which only meant he needed to finish up with his current projects before anything like that happened. One of which was being held in the basement currently. It was just a little something he had been working on before Spider-Man had landed himself in their custody.

He took the elevator down to the 1st floor and then continued on to the basement by stairs. At the end of the steps, a solid sheet of thick, reinforced metal blocked his path. Morbius stepped up to it and placed his hand on the center and when he pulled away after a few seconds, an imprint of his hand glowed red on the surface before blinking to a green and the door clicked. The metal wall was lifted up to give just enough space for him to walk beneath. As soon as he was past, however, the metal wall immediately shut behind him.

The room he walked into was wide and spacious. Half of it was filled with machines, sensors, and scanners, and many, many different screens, all of which had been turned off while he was away. Whereas, the other half of the room was cut off by a thick sheet of fiberglass stretching from one end of the room to the other that had been fused through the walls to secure stability. Two guards were posted at the entrance of the room, while a line of them protected the perimeter of the glass wall, all of whom were straight-backed with a gun connected to a metal pack on their back held firmly in hand; their faces were covered by thick helmets that were outlined on the inside with foam, specifically designed to absorb sound, with the common hydra insignia outlined on the vests of their suits.

Morbius ignored them as he walked up to the glass. Inside, a figure was huddled in the center of the room with scrawny arms wrapped tightly around legs that were hugged close to the chest. Long, messy black hair grew in tangles down to the shoulders and sunken, hollow eyes flittered up to look at Morbius before dropping back down to the hard, concrete floor. Thick chains were clapped on thin wrists and ankles, barely able to be held up by the person they were so intent on keeping down, as well as a pair of cuffs around the forearms and legs. Morbius clasped his hands behind his back and looked his other subject over.

"Hello, Vulture, how are you doing today?"

The subject, Vulture, lifted his face again, lips pulling into a deep frown "Spare me your pleasantries." he says in a low, almost tired, voice, then let his faze drop back down again.

Morbius tilted his head to the side in amusement. "Why? I thought we were building up a friendly relationship, you and I."

A scoff. "Friendly relationship." Vulture repeated, his hands fell from his legs as he unfurled himself from his huddled positioned. "Why is it your friendship feels more like a poison-tipped dagger digging into my back?"

The older man shrugged, moving along the glass to a device hooked to the wall and began to tamper with it. "Can't say," he said. "But it just so happens that I'm the only person in this place that even cares about you. That makes me the only friend you've got."

"No, it doesn't." Vulture mumbled, almost so low that Morbius didn't catch it. But he did and grinned spitefully.

"What was that?" he asked innocently, looking up from the machine. "And who else is your friend, Vulture? S.H.I.E.L.D? Those heroes who are running around like headless chickens? Yes. Such wonderful friends they are. And, when were they coming to get you, again?" Vulture looked down as he fiddled with the chains dangling from his wrists, unable to form an answer. Morbius snorted. "Yes. That's what I thought."

Fingers turned white as Vulture glared down at the cement at his feet with his hands curling into fists around the chain. "Why are you even down here?" he demanded, voice rising. "I heard you got a new toy to play with. Why don't you just take your disgusting, poisonous friendship and give it to your new friend and leave me to rot in here."

"Oh," Morbius sighed. "I couldn't do that. There's a special place for you in my heart, Vulture. I think I've grown quite fond of our friendship. Besides, I don't think you want me 'playing' with this new toy. I mean, you did believe he was your friend, once, right?" another sigh. "Pity how you tend to acquaint yourself with all the wrong people."

Vulture's face softened with confusion, his obsidian eyes burned into Morbius' winged back. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, your 'friend', remember? The talkative one. The one you were sure was going to help you. I'm afraid he's rather busy though, and won't be able to do much helping."

Vulture stared at him. "Spider-Man," he whispered. "is here?"

"Yeah." Morbius tapped a code into the machine, before moving onto a different screen. "But don't get your hopes us. As I said, don't expect anything from him. He's busy, as are you. Now," he finally turned his eyes on to the boy. "let's begin. You know how the game goes."

Vulture's soft expression instantly hardened into something cold. His eyes squeezed shut and his grip on the chains tightened.

Morbius smiled. "Then let's get started. You know what to do."

For a minute Vulture hesitated, before shaking his head. "No. I won't."

Morbius, on the other hand, wasn't surprised. "And so the game begins. Very well," he pushed a button and the cuffs on Vultures forearms and legs burst to life with crackling energy. Vulture screamed and shriveled up on himself. For a minute, his eyes narrowed and darkened and his body paled, talons started to grow from his fingertips and toes and feathers began to sprout from his arms. But then, he grit his teeth and focused on the rough texture of the cold cement touching his skin and harnassed all his energy into staying in human form. When the electricity stopped, he collapsed onto his stomach, muscles twitching and jerking as he groaned deeply into the floor. However, Morbius noted, the boy looked pleased as he watched the talons shrink back into normal skin and nail. His eyes returned to their normal focus.

Morbius gave him a few seconds of recovery before the button was pushed again. Vulture was closer to losing control this time. The third time, on the other hand, Morbius kept the electricity going until Vulture's guttural screams reverberated off the glass pane as his body twisted and morphed and talons grew from his nails, feather sprouted from his arms and back, bones relocate, and his nose and mouth grew and hardened into a beak and his screams shifted into high-pitched shrieks. Then, and only then, did he cut the electricity off.

Vulture collapsed in a heap. His limbs jerked with fried nerves as tears pooled in his eyes and he sucked in lungs-full of breath. Morbius watched for a minute with a satisfied. "See," he said. "That wasn't so hard." he moved onto the other device. "Now let's move on."

A tear slid down Vulture face, curving down the side of his beak and dripping down the side of his cheek. He shook his head. "Why?" he demanded in a broken whisper, for the thousandth time. "Why won't you just leave me alone?"

Morbius looked at him with pitying eyes, "Because, Vulture, you don't belong in the outside world. You belong here. You are a freak, as I am now," he spread his bat wings to emphasize, smiling wide to show off his pointed teeth. "But freaks like you, like us, have no place out there. Not yet anyway. But don't worry, you'll be put to good use. We'll show them all."

Vulture looked down and shook his head once. Twice. Three times. "I don't want to," he whimpered, then added in a softer tone as his eyes burned, "I just want to go home."

Morbius smiled at him softly. "Don't be silly. This is your home."

OH! PLOT TWIST-ish.

And enter: Vulture! *looks around excitedly* Eh? Eh?