Disclaimer: I do not own Venom

A/N: I have read in a few comments that they wish that the story will close in on the movie's plot, and I promise that it will, soon. However, there is a lot of information that is required in the earlier chapters in order to make sense later on. That's why I'm careful with the details so that they become relevant later on. However, I promise that the next chapter will take place during the time our dear main protagonist from the movie will make his debut appearance.

A/N x2: I wish to make it clear that I am, by no means, prejudice against religion or the concept of God in any way. What is mentioned in the story is merely Evelyn's perception of God and her lack of faith in His miracles, which is primarily based on everything she has experienced in her life. I don't mean to be disrespectful towards anyone's faith and I sincerely apologize if you feel offended.

Thank you all for your attention and please enjoy!

Edit: 15.10.21

Chapter 12: Gods and Monsters

"I don't suppose you could tell me where you were the other day?" Dr. Lewis inquired playfully as he stirred his coffee. He had added both milk and sugar to the concoction, which was hardly a surprise. Dr. Lewis and bitterness simply wasn't compatible, which explained his natural affinity for sweetness.

Evelyn circled her own spoon in her drink before she lifted it up close to her nostrils, inhaling the bitter scent of caffeine like it was liquid gold. She had expected this question from Dr. Lewis sooner or later, and it seemed that the latter option won the bet.

For days now, Dr. Lewis had kept silent about his unnerving urge to ask her, but she had never stayed oblivious towards it. After all, Dr. Lewis was anything but subtle. Not even a charming smile could conceal that from plain view.

She took a sip before she answered, prolonging. "Family-related matters,"

"Oh?" This seemed to surprise him to a certain degree. "Your family was in town?"

"Yes," she lied and put the cup silently down on the table again. "My mother insisted I meet with her to talk."

"That's nice," he offered in an attempt to seem satisfied. "How long has it been since you last spoke, if you don't mind me asking?"

This, for some unfathomable reason, caused her stomach to tighten. However, she instantly regretted it, as the pain that lingered there from Treece's assault remained.

Exhaling through her nose, she merely provided an answer that would fit the rest of the deceit.

"My family and I have not been on speaking terms for some time," Though her answer came brief and casual, there appeared a shadow of reluctance on her mind from revealing something so… intimate. "We share a few words over the phone on times, but that's all."

This particular situation seemed to flabbergast the surgeon, but subtly. He was not one for exaggerations, but that did not make up for his lack of discretion. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry–"

"Asking questions doesn't change anything," Evelyn nonchalantly replied before he was able to finish his confession. "There's no reason to apologize."

"Still, it's really isn't any of my business." Dr. Lewis insisted and took a sip of his own drink. "But for whatever it's worth, I'm glad that you got to see them again."

(After all, he knew that she had not been on speaking terms with her parents since the ... incident.)

It would have been, Evelyn thought, even though she parted with her family on less than charitable terms. She recalled the tear-stained face of her mother on the doorstep, and the cold countenance her father donned as he attempted to calm his despairing wife.

They had exchanged hostile words on the day of their separation, many of which Evelyn … regretted saying. Perhaps it was a good thing that she granted someone else the illusion that she was on good terms with her family because the truth would only bring inconvenience on both parts. The truth behind it all would kill him, quite literary. There was no way she was going to have him be involved, more than he begrudgingly was.

"Yeah," she agreed and looked distantly down at the dark liquid in her cup. "I suppose."

"By the way," the surgeon abruptly interjected, gaining her attention. "I had Annie check your place the other day," Before she could question his motives, he raised both his hands up with a sheepish smile on his face. "For good measure, I promise. Anyway, she noticed that there were a black Mercedes parked outside your house, and apparently, it wasn't yours, because it drove away shortly. An acquaintance of yours?"

As much as she wished to chastise him for his obnoxiously concerning behavior, the new information got Evelyn thinking. A black car outside her home, in the middle of the night? Though she did own a black car, it was neither a Mercedes nor one she kept outside of her home whilst she was away. The plausible explanation could be that it was simply one of her neighbors, but that too sounded a little too ... far-fetched. Was it an agent of the LF who had been sent to keep an eye out in case she proved expendable, or someone else?

Those bastards...

Apparently, she must have been pondering too deeply on the subject, because by the time the sound tapping on the table gained her attention, Dr. Lewis was staring at her curiously. "You don't know?"

She shook her head. "I don't, I will keep that in mind in case it reappears. It's probably nothing."

Although he nodded, his eyes revealed something else. She hated that look in his eyes.

"You know you can always come to us if there's anything, right?" he asked sincerely, surprising the other doctor to a subtle degree. She stared straight into the surgeon's eyes and found herself exasperated by his persistence. It was not something she had not expected from him, but this was becoming tiresome to deal with.

"Do you mean that?" she asked, placing the cup down on the table with a resonating clink. This caused the surgeon to flinch a bit, but he remained firmly placed on his seat as he watched his colleague glare ever-so-slightly at him. Though this was by no means an uncommon exchange, this particular incident seemed more severe.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Evelyn felt her fingers unconsciously tighten around the coffee-cup with such force that it felt as though she threatened to break it into pieces. He was offering his help so easily – too easily – that it was almost pathetic.

Daniel Lewis had always been unimaginably charitable, too much for his own good. He would always place the need of others before his own, regardless of what it involved. Even during their time at University, he was still so generous with others. He would help them no matter what, he would become worried even if the situation did not require his attention, and he would never turn down the chance to help someone.

Evelyn found it much more challenging to cover up her frustrations now than she ever did before, and there was no telling why that was the case. "If my problems were to cause you immeasurable pain and struggles, more than it's worth, would you still offer your assistance so carelessly?"

By the time she was finished, Evelyn was already towering over him from the opposite side of the table, her eyes penetrating through his' through an intense glare that could only cover up the vibrations that resonated in her stomach. She almost winced, but it could not compare to the incomprehensible sensation she felt surging through her at that moment as she waited for his answer.

At first, there came not a word from the surgeon. Not a sound; not a single sign that showed her what he was feeling. His face was pale, but his face was unreadable. At first, she assumed that he was simply deliberating his answers in time to give it to her, but it all ended upon not even a second sooner.

"Yes, I would."

The words that left the doctor caused all thoughts in her head to abruptly halt, and she froze completely in shock.

Her breath threatened to leave her as she stood there, silent and contemplatively.

"Why?"

He smiled at her, either oblivious to her internal shock or despite it. "Because that is what friends do."

Friends?

"Then God said, "Take your son, your only son, whom you love—Isaac—and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you

The leather cover of the book felt dry beneath the tips of her fingers, as it had not been touched nor removed from the bookshelf in years. She hadn't opened in in what felt like ages, not seeing the need to. Dust had gathered on top of it after so many years of negligence, but it was hardly its exterior which concerned her at the moment.

Evelyn held her head in frustration, rubbing her temples with her right hand as the other one sustained the book's balance on top of the table. Quite frankly, there had never been a moment in her life where she imagined that reading this would have done her any favors. She had initially intended to use it as some sort of brain exercise; to locate everything deemed a 'miracle' and deduced the true reasons behind them through scientific means.

However, that seemed not to be the case.

Licking her fingers, she browsed through the book until she landed on a page that somehow struck her as unbelievably familiar.

Genesis 3:6.

Her eyes scanned the words that were elaborated on the pages.

"'For God knows that in the day you eat of it, your eyes will be opened and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.' When the woman saw that the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eyes and that it was desirable for obtaining wisdom, she took the fruit and ate it,"

The reason both Eve and Adam were thrown out of the Garden of Eden and forced to walk the earth without the divine favor of their deity. Tempted by knowledge and forced to pay the price of her actions, all because of a serpent had whispered in her ear.

A young Evelyn had always been curious about what her namesake had done in order to get punished so severely, just because they yearned knowledge above ignorance. Their God wished to keep them hidden in the dark, preserve their innocence as though it would save them forever. That knowledge caused them to lose their initial home but granted them the ability to open their eyes for the first time.

Everything came at a cost.

Nothing was ever free.

Wisdom in exchange for the painful truth, ignorance at the cost of knowledge, prosperity in exchange for sacrifice.

A man, willing to sacrifice whatever meant necessary to appease his faith.

A woman, willing to defy her morals to achieve wisdom.

Two sides of the same coin.

Look at the world. What do you see? War, poverty. A planet on the brink of collapse. I would argue that God has abandoned us!

A clasp echoed in the room as Evelyn tightly shut the book. "It's all ridiculous," she uttered bitterly, gritting her teeth together with immense force. Her stomach tightened, her fingers were curling up against the covers of the book. For the first time in a long one, she experienced a sensation she had assumed abandoned her years ago. Or, rather, a sensation she had discarded as not to let it steer her work.

Why was it returning to her now of all times?

Without thinking, she threw the book with such force that it crashed into one of her kitchen cabinets on the opposite side of the room; shattering the glass on impact. Shards descended on the floor and scattered around, far beyond her reach but close enough to reach her ears.

Heavy breaths escaped the doctor's mouth, silencing any other sound that might have occupied the rest of the space in the house. There was a bottomless pit inside her chest, one that could not be filled regardless of how many inhales she took.

No God caused this, she reminded herself. Humans did.

"I did."

The following days passed quickly, but they were filled with content that could make even the strongest being in the universe succumb to despair. Between working her usual shifts and working for the Life Foundation, there was little time to do anything else.

However, she was successfully able to defuse any questions regarding her absences at bay, as long as she prepared her schedule accordingly. Her colleagues' inquiries did not linger long enough for her to deem them noticeable, but they were nonetheless persistent and could pose potential threats if they went beyond the point of verbal conversations. Curiosity was one of humanity's greatest and most persistent attributes, which meant that it was a struggle to avoid. Evelyn knew that discretion was necessary, for both her sake and theirs.

For the next days, she kept working, both at the hospital and with the LF. Signing a disclosure agreement had come as a priority with the CEO, but she herself did not feel any obligation towards a piece of papers that was supposed to legalize something illegal. Ink on a piece of paper was hardly enough to make her ensure her loyalties, but it was enough to keep her silent for the time being. A bullet to the head was, to say the least, not preferable to a closed mouth.

Over a short amount of time of research and assessments, conclusions were made and progress increased. The test subjects were showing development which pleased Mr. Drake to no limit, and it also aided them in making sure that the hosts prevailed the temporary agony which had been inflicted on them.

But despite the development that had been able to come forth, one of the volunteers perished in the experiments. Mr. Beckley was deemed deceased after the symbiote had started to tear through his organs, both the heart and liver were untraceable by the time the facility had managed to perform a brief, and non-thorough, autopsy on what little remained of the body.

The researchers had failed to provide the host with the proper sustenance, and thus, both Mr. Beckley and the symbiote inside him were gone. One less guinea-pig was at their disposal, and it was quite a sight to watch Mr. Drake express his discontent to those who were supposed to keep it from happening in the first place. A few papers were thrown to the floor, and Evelyn watched him reprimand the scientists who were supposed to be responsible for the surveillance of the volunteer. Needless to say, all of those who failed to do their jobs were subsequently fired, which meant that they now had fewer scientists at their disposal.

Mr. Drake was allowing his impulsive tendencies to get ahead of them, and if this continued, there would not be many left to reap of the benefits Project Symbiosis was supposed to distribute to them.

Things were escalating, and she had no means available to stop it.

For now, all Evelyn could do was watch as the King's crown grew too heavy on the top of his head.

Smoke ascended from Dr. Skirth's lips as she pulled the cigarette out. "I don't think I can do this anymore," she said thoughtfully, having been severely affected over the course of the last few days. Her skin was considerably paler than it had previously been, but she was no longer trembling as she had before. Even in the darkness of the night, that much was clear.

Evelyn looked at her through her peripheral vision before she returned her focus back to the sky that had been claimed by the night. "You won't live for long if you tell Mr. Drake that," she reminded her and looked to the surrounding buildings that the LF stood composed of.

Numerous of structures, advanced technology in their wake, things that most people could only dream of being in the vicinity of; a place she once associated with everything she wished to achieve – success, progress, and an ability to save lives.

Now, all it had done was make her a pawn.

They were standing on the edge of the roof, mere inches between them and a potential fall that would kill on impact. They were alone, and a few minutes outside would hardly gain the attention of the CEO. The night air was cold morphed their exhales into white smoke.

In the distance, the lights of the city were visible, showing that human life was not low in quantity. Even now, people were oblivious to what was going on behind closed doors, and for once, the oncologist envied them for their ignorance.

Her younger self would have been gravely disappointed if she had the same knowledge as her present self. If she knew that she would one day become involved with unethical human experimentation, she would not have reacted positively to the change. Her younger self tended to rely on her heart more than her current one ever could, and that became her downfall in the end.

Did it matter anymore.

Dr. Skirth took another drag and released the polluted air from her lips, eyes scanning over at the view in front of her, sharing the spectacle. Without a care, the ecologist held the packet of Marlboro out for her, offering.

Evelyn shook her head at the gesture. "I don't smoke."

"Neither did I," Dr. Skirth agreed. "I promised my son that I would quit the habit, and I managed to do so for a few years."

"Promises don't mean much," Evelyn commented. "There's nothing that keeps you from breaking them,"

"That's the point," the ecologist contradicted. "Promises depends on trust. Someone trusts you to keep it, and if you value that trust, you keep your word."

"... Not always," the doctor disapproved. The image of a young man with IV-fluid attached to him – smiling at her like he always used to – was undoubtedly the cause of that. She hated promises, because they did more bad than good in life. That's why she was not above breaking them if she had to, no matter the reason, as seen with Mrs. Rodriguez. "Someone trusted me with her secret," she said. "I promised her I would keep it, but doing so would inflict more damage to her than admitting the truth."

The ecologist's eyes lingered on the younger doctor for a moment. "I'm assuming that you revealed her secret, then?"

"Yes," Evelyn answered, unashamed by the confession. "I did."

"You sound like you were rather personal with this individual," Dr. Skirth remarked observantly. "Was she a friend?"

"None of the sorts, but it doesn't matter. I reported her secret to the police, and in doing so, I saved her life, but she did not approve of my actions."

"I can't say I blame her," Dr. Skirth retorted cynically with another drag. "You broke your promise and her trust; she confided in you, and you let her down."

"I did what I had to. Keeping the promise would put her in a disadvantageous situation."

"So, that's why you decided that you simply didn't care?"

Evelyn narrowed her eyes at the other woman. "That's not the reason why I did it."

Yet her words did not seem to leave a lasting impact.

Dr. Skirth's reassumed with a new cigarette once her previous one expired, letting it out into the evening air. She seemed deep in thoughts for a moment – claimed by the silence that surrounded them – before she spoke again. "I have been in this field for almost thirty years, I've seen countless people die, but that doesn't mean I stop caring. Emotions are part of human nature, like the cogs in a machine. Without them, we cease to be human, like a machine ceases to function without its internal mechanics."

She tapped the shortened cigarette and carelessly dropped it on the ground, stomping on it even though she wasn't even halfway done with it. "But if I allow these experiments to continue, then I'm not human anymore."

"Neither are you alive if you confront Drake about your opinions," Evelyn stated. "Put your personal pride before logic and you might as well pull those cogs out yourself."

"I'm not going to do something so spontaneous, I'm not suicidal,"

"Then I assume that you have another plan."

"I have not claimed such," Dr. Skirth interjected, then turned her face fully to meet the younger doctor with a neutral stare. Emotions were easy to perceive but incomprehensible to deduce. "Especially not in front of someone whose loyalties may waver. Would you report me to Mr. Drake if I told you I intended on going against him?"

"That depends," Evelyn replied. "On whether your actions would have consequences for me."

"Every action has consequences," The ecologist pulled out another cigarette and lit it. "We are trying to save humanity using extraterrestrials but in doing so we are killing people. Sacrifices. You're already in the danger zone, whether you want to or not,"

"And whose fault was that?"

When she asked that, Dr. Skirth turned her head to the ground, avoiding her eyes.

Taking her silence for an answer, Evelyn pulled both her hands into her pockets, matching the ecologist's cold stare with one of her own. "I don't suppose Dr. Janine Skirth knew of your objectives when she referred me to you?"

Dr. Skirth slowly shook her head, shame washing over her. "We told her the basics; that we were working on an experiment to save the planet, and we required a physician to do so for physical evaluations. Someone pragmatic, who kept their head in the game."

"And she did not question anything about it?"

"At first, but I managed to persuade her to believe in our cause because I did it. At the time."

"Then we're both responsible, so don't try to convince yourself of otherwise," the doctor added calmly, watching as Dr. Skirth's guilt consumed her from the inside. It truly did not matter, because they were both too deep to go back.

Dr. Janine Skirth always had always valued ethics and addressed the sentimental issue of each subject she brought up, but she was by no means a blind and naïve woman. It genuinely appalled Evelyn how she would not question anything about the experiment prior to distributing them with the information they wanted. It did not seem like the professor she recalled back a few years, but Evelyn knew better than to assume that she knew the character of an old acquaintance as though she had seen her recently. After all, their last meeting had been the day of her graduation.

But if the professor had seen Evelyn at this point, there was not a shadow of doubt in her mind that her former tutor would have been disappointed. Opinions, in general, did not face the oncologist as much as they would the other person, but the matter was an exception if it regarded someone she harbored respect towards. It was a sense of respect Mr. Drake had lost.

After a moment of deliberating with herself and an evaluation of the consequences, Evelyn had come to produce a conclusion. It was by no means a certain one (Which was something she vehemently disapproved of), but possible all the same. "If you do intend on going against him," she began, ignoring the way Dr. Skirth flinched. She was too conspicious. "How will you do it?"

Dr. Skirth did not answer at first, she wouldn't dare it. There was a cold streak to spot amongst her features, one that had not been present the first time they had met. The experiments, all of what she had been witness to, it had changed the ecologist – adapted her to the circumstances. It had not taken her compassion away but shaped it selectively.

"Why would I say something to someone whose loyalty is unclear? What makes you think I can trust you?"

Her suspicions were understandable, but Evelyn decided that honest answers were warranted this time. "You can't, and I'm not providing you with a reason. But if you wish to go against him, then I would advise you not to do anything irrational."

"What I don't understand is why you would want to leave; you don't seem like you're having any difficulties with doing what you're supposed to," Dr. Skirth accused her. "Janie always said you were practical, but I never imagined that you were …" She stopped speaking and a melancholic sense befell her. "He's going to kill me if he finds out."

"Most likely not," Evelyn contradicted. "He would most likely find some way to keep you around, whether through means like flatter or intimidation. He's already low on quantity in regard to staff and personnel, he can't afford to lose anyone else." Drake was a man who was readable, after a while. His ambitions and his means to get what he desired were in plain sight if you were observant.

Leaving.

After only a few days, the prospect of being back at the hospital seemed admittedly preferable above being in an environment where guns were consistently kept within the perimeter. Her abdomen still hurt after the incident with Treece, even though the bleeding was proven to be minor. A broken rib was likely, but she could not afford questions.

But leaving would most likely have less than desirable results. Attempting to leave would cause LF to track her down and leave no loose threads behind. Between two uncertain paths, she would choose the one with desirable consequences. Leaving the state would also most likely not do her any good, especially considering how the LF was a prominent company; one that could undoubtedly make her life difficult should she pose a threat.

Everyone was expendable, but some were fortunate enough not to receive the consequences if they played the game well. Was leaving really an option she would risk herself for?

But, if there was one thing she knew, it was that she refused to play God anymore; picking who was going to live or die.

Dr. Skirth shook her head. "We … should go back."

But Evelyn did not comply at first. Her gaze was locked to the skies, counting the stars that were there, the vague glimpse of the moon hidden behind a layer of clouds. She wanted to somehow believe that there laid nothing beyond the atmosphere, and if it did, it would stay far beyond their reach. Humanity had a tendency to corrupt everything they touched, and now that they possessed unpredictable samples of life, that most likely would not be excluded.

So many had perished in the experiments, and she didn't want anyone else to succumb to that fate. Not if she could avoid it.

Evelyn wanted it to stop.

If humans were the ones who brought monsters into existence, those who inflicted such peril on the world, then perhaps there was a chance for them to be rid of their creations as well? But they would have to be sly, find a loophole that would ensure victory and silence simultaneously.

"'Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made,'" she heard herself saying, turning back to look at the ecologist with a look of certainty on her face. "It seems we will need a venomous snake for this if you want to succeed."

Who would imagine that, for once in her life, her grandmother's lessons would actually come into practical use?