Disclaimer: I do not own Venom
A/N: Hello, my adorable readers! Welcome to another chapter after a long six-month wait! As you might expect, this year has already been quite hectic, but I apologize for leaving you on wait for so long. With the COVID-19 situation affecting my graduation from high school and my subsequent enrolment into university, I was quite preoccupied and didn't really have the time to work on this for a while.
However, now that I'm back, I've spent the last couple of days working on an 8000-word chapter to compensate for the time I've spent away. Hopefully, this will make it up to you, at least a little bit. I'm certain that the next chapter will arrive a little sooner, but I'm unable to make any firm promises. All I can say is that I'll try my best to make it happen.
As always: read, review, and enjoy!
Additional art will be posted on my DeviantArt account: X-KuroShiro-X
Chapter 32: Pari Passu
There was a moment where Eddie thought he met God. Sure, he was never one for the divine belief, but certain circumstances could surely change a man's faith for the better or the worse, and he was quite certain that his predicament could allow for said changes. While he sincerely doubted that it was God he encountered, all he could tell for certain was that there came a bright light out of nowhere, and for a moment, he heard someone calling his name as though it came from the other side of a tunnel.
"EDDIE!"
Then, after what felt like an eternity of utter blackness, he snapped back into consciousness with a loud bang! followed by a rather nasty headache and several other aches and wounds that settled under him. It felt like someone had bashed his body multiple times with a baseball bat, and even that didn't seem like an adequate comparison. While he couldn't pinpoint the pain precisely, it felt like his entire body was shattered and his bones had been grounded into dust. If it hadn't been for the fact that he was too shocked to scream, he could've made windows shatter from miles away.
If this was what it took to meet God in person, then he'd prefer to remain a firm agnostic.
His vision, along with what remained of his consciousness, returned momentarily, but the view he was met with wasn't welcoming in the slightest.
Several cars – familiar black ones – were parked only a few feet away from where he laid, and given the state he was in, escaping didn't seem like much of an option. He tried to move, but all there came was the feeling of utter helplessness.
This feeling became what prompted him to tilt his head to look at himself, but he could only muster a glance before he was satisfied with what he saw.
Bones were peaking out from his severed skin, several joints were dislocated, and he was pretty sure he could count the number of limbs he had broken. He was never one for self-admiration on a physical level; such narcissism didn't strike him as necessary, although he knew he was considered handsome by the modern society. However, the brief second he looked at himself, he wanted to throw up what little he had consumed hours earlier.
The worst part about the situation he was in wasn't that he was in pain, surprisingly enough. As Eddie laid there on the pavement, bloodied, exposed, and dislocated like a ragdoll, all he could think about was how utterly alone he felt. Even that damned voice was gone, and for once, it would have been a relief to hear it talk to him. He never imagined he could've grown attached to something extraterrestrial, but fate (if there existed something like that) seemed to have it out for him as of recently.
Who would have believed that it would take a night of terror and near-death experiences to make him have an existential crisis?
Then a thought came to him, reminding him that he wasn't completely alone.
… March.
"Where is March?"
He tried to look for her; the urge to do it became something uncontainable. A pull at his chest, like something out of a horror movie, but instead of consuming him from inside, it contributed to his determination. Where was she? Where was she? Where was she? Where was she?
WHERE WAS SHE?
No matter how much his body cried as he tilted his head to the sides, no matter how many Eddie attempted his best to look around for her. He knew he wouldn't have much time, and the urgency only further aided his resolve. Had the LF already taken her? Was he too late?
No, none of them could lose this fight. He needed her, and she needed him. Otherwise, the cause was lost, and there wouldn't be much of a chance for them to make it out of there in one piece, much less alive.
"We get through this together,"
Weren't those his exact words? In any case, he intended to see them through to the very end. Even so, he never imagined that there would ever come a moment in his life where he needed the doctor there. Whether it was the condition he was in or something else entirely that was controlling his thoughts at that point, he couldn't deny that he had accepted that she was more than the cruel physician he had initially perceived her to be.
March would have chastised him if he admitted that aloud.
"Just get her sedated and throw her in the damn car, I'll get to her in a minute," a painfully recognizable voice commanded. God, just the sound if it could make Eddie hurl if he hadn't been so weak. "I'll deal with this guy first."
Soon enough, he found Treece looming over him with a smug glee plastered on his face. God, if he had a single functioning muscle left in his body, Eddie would've used that to break those bleached teeth. He was petty like that, there was no point in denying it.
At least the bulge on top of the bridge of Treece's nose was still prominent like a sore thumb from when March kicked him in the face.
Thinking of it, a laugh barely made it past Eddie's lips.
Treece, after savoring his victory for one more moment, knelt down beside Eddie. "You have been a serious pain in the ass for me, Eddie,"
"Well, you know, I aim to please," Eddie couldn't contain the sarcasm any more than he could conceal the agony he was in.
The retort didn't seem to dispirit Treece. He placed the heel of his foot directly down on top of Eddie's chest, and gradually let its weight descend on his fractured ribs, inducing more pain than Eddie initially thought was possible.
"Oh, you'll be able to please Drake well enough, alright, once we get your ass back to the facility where you both belong."
Eddie let out a pained groan as his chest gave in to the pressure, feeling like his heart was about to burst, and not in a good way.
Fuck this fucking piece of shit!
After a couple of seconds of this torture, Treece ceased his assault and removed his foot, but not before giving Eddie another rough shove to the side for extra measure.
Seemed like Eddie wasn't the only one who tended to be petty.
He believed that everything was over now. He'd be handed to Drake and get dissected like a toad in a biology lab, and everything he'd lost, everything he had tried to achieve following this stunt he pulled, it would all have been for absolutely nothing. The LF would win like they always did, and he just happened to become one more amongst their casualties.
That was what the ex-journalist initially believed until a sense of warmth befell him like a woolen blanket.
His arm, now covered once more in the dark substance he had grown familiar with over the last couple of hours, stretched up to Treece's throat with a newfound strength that Eddie could only describe as addictive. All sense of pain and agony flooded out of his system, his limbs felt like they were patched together like pieces of a puzzle, and this just felt right.
If this feeling – this strength – was a beverage, then Eddie decided that he would gladly get drunk on it. This thought stayed stuck with him as he allowed the warmth to completely embrace him.
He was left at the mercy of the dark, and yet, somehow, it felt like it was the best decision he had done over the course of the night.
She didn't believe in God; there had never been a genuine moment in her life where she had allowed such superstition to dictate her life. If there was a God, and He was so almighty as her Grandmother proclaimed each time they went to church as children, then why was He so utterly incapable of being the Savior the world needed?
Why wasn't He there when He was needed the most?
And yet, as she laid there on the concrete with her limbs spread almost in the manner of a faux crucifix, staring up at the seemingly empty sky, Evelyn prayed.
Although she was incapable of folding her hands properly together, Evelyn prayed. Not necessarily to God or another deity, but simply to whoever would listen to her silent plead.
She prayed that this would not be the end.
She prayed that the victims would have their justice and that the perpetrators would be punished accordingly.
She prayed that the world would not end because of her negligence and lack of humanity.
She prayed that there was still hope.
She didn't truly care if she died anymore; at this point, she had it coming. However, she prayed that her demise would not be the end of what they were trying to achieve. Perhaps there would be someone else that would continue what they were trying to achieve?
For that, she prayed.
In reality, her words barely made it past her lips, much less to anyone's ears. No one could hear her, as her vocal cords had been damaged in the fall. Blood poured out of her mouth as she tried to part her lips, and trying to move to ease her predicament earned her nothing short of a painful reminder that she was pretty much dying.
She had always imagined that she would die at her own hands; that was the way it was intended. As soon as the defects of old age came crumbling down on her, she would make sure that she would never live the last of her life within the very same walls she treated people in. She would die on her own accord, nothing more and nothing less.
Given the circumstances, however, that plan didn't seem eligible anymore. It was fitting.
However, she felt … Sad.
Her parents would have to suffer once again because of her actions. Her mother would never recover, and her father … he would be ruined. They were both good people, and although Evelyn hadn't spoken to them in years, she knew they wouldn't mourn her loss any less because of that.
Thinking about it made her feel guilty over dying.
I'm so sorry.
"Treece! She's over here!"
Someone tilted her face to the side. One of the LF's men were looming over her like the Grim Reaper, only much less comforting to look at.
"Just get her sedated and throw her in the damn car, I'll get to her in a minute!"
Evelyn remembered that voice.
Treece.
Before the guard could even touch her, as it out of instinct, something inside her snapped.
For a single moment – just a second – the pain vanished and she decided to reap of the benefits that opportunity provided her with. In a matter of seconds, she got up in a crouching position and aimed her hand straight for the guard's neck. Her limbs didn't feel right and it was hard to concentrate, but she gave it all she could given the situation.
She didn't know if her intent was to strike him or simply catch him off-guard long enough to make a run for it, but it didn't matter anyway.
Before her fingers could graze his neck, she felt her throat clog up and a wave of blood washed out of her and straight onto the ground, making her attack look painfully pathetic. She coughed up seemingly several ounces of blood and felt her eyes burn as they were filled with tears to the brim. The pain came back to her like bullets and she triedtriedtried not to scream.
"So, there's still life in you, doctor?" the guard asked amused. "Thought you were dead for sure, though it doesn't seem like you're that far from it,"
"D-Don't touch me!" was what she wanted to shout at him, but all she could make out were a couple of sounds that hardly resembled human speech. An animal trapped in a cage of her own making, with her captor standing just inches away from her, poking her with a stick.
At that moment, Evelyn March felt absolutely helpless. The pain wasn't the worst part about the situation, but her lack of ability to do anything felt worse than any knife or bullet she had suffered from in the past. Even worse, a guard that wasn't even Treece was currently filling her with more dread than the one who had previously sought to kill her, and it horrified her.
She was scared.
With blood continuously pouring past her lips, she felt terrified, as if she was back to being a child again.
The guard, having barely moved from where he stood, looked at her like she was a prey caught in a hunter's trap. He seemed to find pleasure in watching her struggle to survive, and such lack of regard for life reminded her of …. He reminded her of ….
She began to feel dizzy, and everything became out of place. The sounds around her seemed to succumb to silence once again, and her vision was worse now than ever before. It was a miracle that her consciousness remained partially intact at this point. The lights in the distance seemed to fade and she could hardly keep up with her thoughts anymore. The effect of the bloodloss was taking its toll on her body, and it wasn't until she found herself back on the ground with her head on the asphalt that she realized that she wouldn't make it much longer in this state.
"Seems like … sedatives … necessar– TREECE!"
Evelyn's breaths soon became all she could hear, and the shadow of a large figure looming over her was all that greeted her. This wasn't the guard anymore, and she felt more at peace in their presence than anything else. At that point, only one thought remained in her head.
"Is this God?"
Then the darkness embraced her and everything lost its meaning.
They were hungry when they resurfaced from the depths of their host's body. Being submerged between thick layers of muscles and bones had never truly been something they considered painful or otherwise problematic, but it tended to become tedious after a certain amount of time. Given that so much was going on, it was inevitable that they would be in control once again.
Venom leered over Treece with a victorious grin across their face. The guard seemed so small – so tiny – in comparison to their vast size, and they would make sure to enjoy crunching down every. last. piece of his pathetic being. After all, this was something he had coming for a long time now.
They relished the feeling of Treece's throat in their grip and added some extra pressure around it for extra measure. To see the tiny man squirming made them feel so much better, and they didn't doubt that Eddie relished in it as well (if he was conscious, of course). However, given their host's current recovery, Venom had no choice but to dictate most of what was going on.
But they would make sure to spend their time well.
"Eyes, lungs, pancreas," They let their tongue slide across their teeth as they evaluated Treece's only redeeming qualities. "So many snacks, so little time,"
While they weren't typically indulgent when it came to playing with their food, Venom was willing to make an exception this time. As such, they let their tongue slide across Treece's face, leaving a trail of saliva on his face. They enjoyed watching him struggle against the assault, and took great delight in knowing that he would be dealt with swiftly.
"TREECE!"
Just as they were about to part their jaws and bite into Treece, they felt the impact of bullets strike their back. While it didn't harm them as much as their assailant would have preferred, it was bothersome nonetheless, and did more than enough to aggravate them.
Against their wishes, Venom lost focus on Treece and they threw him back into the hood of the car with enough effort to grant him several bruises from the impact. They then aimed their attention instead at the guard who kept on shooting at them like it made a difference.
The look on the guard's face that appeared once he realized that he was in deep shit could serve as entertainment for centuries to come.
As Venom prepared to finish the fool on the spot, their eyes narrowed as they spotted a familiar figure on the ground behind the guard, bruised, beaten, and barely resembling the woman they had grown fond over during the last couple of weeks. Blood had poured out of her mouth by the ounces, and she laid there as though she was already deceased. They could tell that she had several broken and fractured bones, punctured internal organs, and injuries that would have otherwise rendered her completely non-functioning hadn't it been for whatever small portion of life and energy Lasher had left.
The irony scent of blood reached their senses, accompanied by the realization that unless she was provided with sustenance immediately, she would cease to live. Lasher wouldn't be strong enough to handle the recovery process quickly enough.
While Venom wouldn't hesitate to rid this ugly world of those people, they knew that they didn't have time unless the wanted Evelyn March to live.
Not only did Venom's personal sentiments towards the doctor contribute to their decision, but they could sense that Eddie too wanted her to make it out of there alive. There was a spark within the host's being. That was, thus far, the only things they had in common, with the exception of their designations as losers on their planet.
While thinking about their predicament, the guard continued to fire at them non-stop. Humanity's tendency of being persevering was both astonishing and firm to a fault. On more than one occasion was it enough to get them killed, and Venom knew this because Eddie was stubborn enough to risk that on a daily. Not to mention that this idiot who kept firing at them until there were no more bullets left at his disposal clearly didn't think his plan through to the end, and now he was going to pay the price.
With an easy snap of his jaws, Venom bit the idiot's head off and swallowed it whole, relishing in the sweet taste of phenethylamine. It had been some time since their previous meal, and as such, they had built up quite an appetite.
As the corpse fell to the ground, they turned to March and gently scooped her up in their arms, making sure to keep her well-balanced with one arm steadying her back whereas the other one was beneath her knees. They were careful not to risk advancing her injuries. She was tall for a human woman, standing only slightly beneath Eddie in terms of stance, but she was still small in comparison to Venom. It made it easier for them all.
They could feel her weak heartbeats as she settled in their arms, her head leaned against their chest, with her dirtied and matted dark hair partially covering her face. She looked like she was sleeping, and for the moment, that was a good thing. If memory served them correctly, she hadn't had any good rest for the majority of the evening, nor the previous one as well. Exhaustion mixed with a lack of sustenance was the recipe for disaster. The short nap she received back at that inconsequential shop would do little to energize her, and so a sense of urgency to get her stabilized surged through Venom as they observed her.
She looked so helpless; a stark contrast to the doctor that he had seen back at the facility.
"SFPD! Don't move! Put the lady down and get on the ground!"
Venom snapped their head towards the source of the voices, only to see armed members of the human authorities make their way towards them. Cops, they were called, but they were not affiliated with Drake, and that was the best thing they would get out of this situation. Even so, they had no intention of surrendering to them.
They had to get out of there quickly. Without any time to lose, Venom was quick to make a break for it, all while regarding the frail human in their arms. With the authorities pursuing them, they had no choice but to escape through "unconventional" means, which extended to crashing into various vehicles (without injuring the human) and making their way up tall buildings in the distance. While it took a while and some effort, Venom eventually managed to find them an alley far from the center of the city where they could remain undisturbed for a time, while providing March with a place to recover briefly.
As soon as they landed on the ground again, concealed from view in the dark, Venom carefully placed March down on the ground and assessed her state. Her skin had paled and it was evident that giving her food like this was not an option. She wouldn't be able to digest it with so little life and energy left in her, which left Venom with only one option.
Kneeling next to her, they reached for her hand and took it, locking their fingers with hers. She was cold to the touch, and her pulse was barely there anymore.
"You can't be that useless, Lasher," Venom chastised the other symbiote just as parts of their essence got transferred over to the doctor's hand, momentarily turning her fingers dark like their own. On Klyntar, such a transfusion was never to be engaged in unless it was absolutely necessary; the hivemind deemed it a weakness for one klyntar to help the next one.
The rule "the weak ones die, the strong survive" applied to them on a universal level, but Venom was in no mood to deal with at the moment. Lasher wasn't weak, but they needed a kick at this point. So, as easily as that, they transferred some of their own energy into the other symbiote, and for a second, the bluish color of the other symbiote made it to the surface as it eagerly started reaping of the benefits Venom was providing them with.
Little by little, March started to regain color, and the most severe wounds gradually began to heal. Bruises disappeared from view in a matter of moments, and she looked less like a corpse and more like a poor soul who had simply slipped on the ground. Venom could hear her breaths become more noticeable, and the sound of her heartbeats resonated through her chest with vigor.
As soon as they deemed her stable enough for Lasher to deal with the rest, Venom released her hand and got up to their feet. "You owe me one," was all they said. While March would be stable now, for a short while at least, she still needed something to eat. There was a food place, a store, right outside the alley that kept open 24/7, but for that, they needed Eddie back.
It felt like a blur when Eddie came back to the world. There was both warmth and cold in his body, and a cribbling feeling in his chest that wouldn't go away; it legit felt like he had just been doused in a bucket of water. It didn't strike him until a couple of moments later that he was standing there, and even better, there was no more pain in him like there had previously been. He was fine. They were fine.
He did a quick inspection of himself, searching for any kind of lasting damage, but there was absolutely none. There wasn't even a single bruise in sight.
"My legs," he breathed out in disbelief. "Oh my God, my legs were broken. Now, they're not broken. What is happening?" He didn't quite know how to address the situation, but he was relieved that he was okay. He thought he had seen his fair share of weird shit for the evening, but it was clear that more had yet to come. What had even happened? He had seen everything through his eyes, but it had felt as though he had just been a witness, not the perpetrator.
When he finished exclaiming his confusion, he noticed the figure lying limp on the ground next to him. It took him a couple of seconds to recognize who it was, but thanks to the lanterns in the distance, he was quick to make out the doctor's unconscious form.
"March!" He quickly got down to his knees and pulled her up to his arms, checking her for any sign of life. He took both her pulse from her neck and checked her temperature by placing his hand on her forehead.
She was warm. Even better, she was alive. Her breathing was slow, but there was no sign that she was in any immediate danger. While in his arms, she seemed like she was sleeping. Her eyes were shut and for once, she looked like she was at peace.
Just like back at Buddy's Shop, the doctor was … alright.
The moment he was satisfied with ensuring that she was okay, Eddie inadvertently let his eyes linger on the unconscious woman. He took note of everything from her dark, long hair, to the cut that ran across her right eyebrow. It wasn't that prominent and must have originated from a long time ago because you could barely see it unless you looked as closely as he did there and then.
"She'll be fine,"
Eddie flinched, and a couple of seconds later, he watched in horror as a familiar black substance extracted itself from his arm. The lights in the distance seemed to get reflected on its exterior, and for a little time, Eddie thought that the creature was composed of the dark in the night sky.
That was, however, until the mass began to materialize into a face, which sprouted several sharp teeth and a pair of sharp eyes that lacked their pupils. Just like Lasher.
This was the first time he had seen the face for himself. March had described it to him earlier when he first morphed with it, but to see it face to face was another experience entirely. Its white eyes seemed like something straight out of a horror movie, and while Eddie was petrified, to say the least, he was pleasantly surprised by how he managed to stay calm.
"What the hell are you?" He thought he had kept those words to himself, but they made it past his lips before he could stop himself.
"I am Venom," the creature spoke, and Eddie found himself recalling its name. He had heard it before, after all, though never through its own mouth. "and you are mine,"
He should have seen this coming from a mile away. March had practically handed him a set of instructions with information about this … Venom, and all she knew about them. He thought he would be able to handle this encounter better than he did, but at that moment, he felt like there was nothing to know anymore; nothing he could understand about them.
"You … bit someone's head off,"
"Fuel in the tank," the symbiote answered bluntly, sounding like it was speaking of a completely mundane subject. It continued to move its head around to inspect him, and Eddie could see his own reflection in its eyes. He knew it would not harm him, but he would not count himself lucky just yet. This wasn't a human, after all, and so, its nature was much less predictable that way.
"Don't think of us as very different," Venom said. "Listen carefully, Eddie. You did not find us; we found you. Think of yourself as my ride,"
"You want that rocket," Eddie realized, his memories gathering up as he recalled what March had said.
"From Carlton Drake," Venom confirmed. "You remember him,"
"How could I not?" Eddie added sarcastically. His eyes flickered down again at March. "Did you do something to her?"
"I saved her. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"
A wave of unease crept over him. "How do you even know about that?"
"I know everything, Eddie,"
"You do?"
"Everything about you,"
He knew that this wasn't all the creature could do, but he didn't want to extend his thoughts from that. He didn't want anything inside his head, much less this, but he knew that he had little choice in the matter. From what March had described, these things merged with living organisms, morphing them into one being, which explained everything that had happened these last couple of hours. Asking more about it seemed stupid, and yet, he found himself asking once again.
"How?"
"I'm inside your head. You are a loser, Eddie,"
Ouch.
Not knowing quite what to do, Eddie rubbed his temples and tried his best to think, only to end up with approximately nothing to contribute to the conversation. He was in a corner at this point, with an alien inside his head and an unconscious doctor as his only human companion. Under other circumstances, this could've been the perfect plot for a sitcom.
"Are you … gonna eat anybody else?"
"Most likely,"
"Oh, God,"
"That is why we are here. Cooperate, and you might just survive. That is the deal,"
A Deal with the Devil. That's what this was. Eddie knew that there was no way for him to escape this situation, not anymore. He took another look at the symbiote and valued his words carefully before speaking again. Before he could say anything, however, Venom beat him to it.
"Go buy some food. We need the extra energy,"
Normally, he wasn't one for taking orders, much less from an alien, but Eddie was beyond arguing at this point. His gaze lingered on top of the sleeping March and he gently laid her back on the ground again. Without even thinking, he brought his hoodie over his head and took it off him, leaving him standing there in a thin shirt he had already sweated through.
He folded it together and gently lifted March's head up so that he could put it under her. It seemed more comfortable like that.
He thought about leaving her while he found something for them to eat. Surely it would be risky to leave an unconscious woman alone in an empty alley during the night, but upon remembering that she too was just like him – with a symbiote – he decided that he was willing to take the chance. He didn't have a lot on him, but he knew that they both needed something to eat, her more than him. She didn't get anything to eat back at Buddy's shop, and she was in a worse condition than him.
Sighing to himself, Eddie thought about what the night had brought the both of them before he got up to get what they needed.
She sat next to David and tried to get comfortable in her seat, but truth be told, she always thought that hospital furniture was garbage. She could hardly find it comfortable in their chairs, much less their beds, so she couldn't comprehend how her brother had managed to stay in one for several months now without an utter of a complaint. Then again, he was always resilient, a trait inherited from their dad.
For the past couple of weeks, his looks had changed for the worse. His bones were practically visible through his skin, his hair had thinned to the point where there was almost nothing left to cover his scalp, and he altogether looked nothing like the young, handsome man he had been months before this day.
Even so, he still made the effort to smile at her.
"You always look like you've swallowed a lemon whole each time I see you, you know?" he commented and grinned mischievously, though his lips could hardly support it anymore.
She sighed and flipped him off. "Shut up, you idiot,"
"Now, is that any way to speak to a patient?"
"Only when the patient happens to be an annoying ass," she remarked and suppressed the urge to flick him on the head. "I've received reports from the nurses that you aren't eating your food as you should. Keep going like that and I'm going to get a tube and stick it up your nose and down your throat,"
He feigned hurt and placed a thin hand on top of his chest. "Is that a threat?"
"No, that's a promise,"
They both laughed at the joke, feeling like children again. Such light moments were a privilege given the circumstances, but it didn't last long before it sent David into yet another coughing fit that earned him more than a concerned look from his sister.
Getting up from her seat, she gently pressed the button to lean his bed a little further down. She then proceeded to help him drink some water to loosen the clog in his throat.
When he composed himself, a defeated look came over him. "Fuck, this sucks,"
"Really? I thought you were having such a wonderous time," she remarked sarcastically.
"Screw you,"
"No thanks,"
Silence fell over them as she sat back down, looking over his diagnostics once again. Things weren't looking good for him.
"You know that this isn't going to work, Evie,"
"Shut up," This time, there was no play with her words. "You're gonna live, and you're gonna get married to that ginger,"
"Is that any way to speak about Anna?"
"Does it matter?" She got up to her feet, eyes still on the board in her hands. "The next therapy session is scheduled at …"
When she looked down at the bed again, it was empty. The sheets were neatly folded as if no one had been there at all.
"David?"
No one answered.
She looked back down at the reports in her hands, only to discover that they were just white. Nothing had been written on them.
Then … she felt something occupy her other hand, something that simply materialized out of thin air. She looked down, and there was a plug in her grip, and its cord stretched down to the floor and was attached to …
The sound of a heart monitor going blank filled the silence that previously occupied the room, and when she looked up again, she was met with the sight of her parents crying next to the bed. The sheets had been pulled up to cover the body beneath it, but just looking at it made her feel nauseous.
Eyes wide, she turned to where her parents were. Her mother screamed out in agony and clutched the mattress to the point where her nails dug into the fabric strong enough to create holes. While her face was covered by her hair, her tears stained the white sheets.
Her father stood next to her mother, his hand resting on her back in an attempt to console her. He was always a proud man and tried his best to act tough, but he was no better at concealing his tears than his wife was.
"… Mom …" Evelyn's voice was barely a whisper as she uttered their names. "Dad…"
She hadn't seen them in years, but she remembered precisely what they looked like on that day. Her mother always had her hair up in a bun; she was a nurse, and so she developed the habit later in life as well. On that day, however, it was down and unbrushed.
Her father hadn't trimmed his bears in weeks, and his eyes were dark from a lack of sleep.
"… Dad?"
When she tried to tug at his arm to get his attention, his eyes snapped to her, filled with spite and complete loathing. It was such a vehement expression that she was thrown off-guard for a moment.
If looks could kill…
"It's your fault," he said. "You killed him,"
"I… I didn't …" She couldn't make out the words.
"You're a murderer,"
He stretched out his arms towards her, but instead of embracing her, he pushed her. From there, it felt like she fell through a black hole with no means of escaping.
The floor beneath her vanished into nothing and she felt the air brush past her momentarily before she landed back on the floor again, this time in front of a mirror.
She remembered this place. It was the bathroom in her first apartment, the one she got before she moved into her current place. The place was furnished with a simple shower, a sink, and a toilet; not anything uncommon, but she remembered everything about it.
She was standing in front of the mirror, but she couldn't make out a reflection. What she could make out, however, was the white content in her hand. A bunch of pills that she had managed to gather from an illicit source.
Rohypnol.
She got her hands on it because of an intern who had been too conspicuous when he ordered it off the black market. When he was caught and arrested because of it, she was one of the doctors in charge of overseeing that it was properly dealt with. Of course, the authorities never took into consideration that she would manage to snatch a packet of her own.
But she did, and she intended to consume it that night.
A small – trivial – dose was all it took to end it. She remembered standing there in front of the mirror, fully intent on swallowing them all until the darkness overtook her.
Now, looking down at them once again, the urge to complete the task she left long ago came back to her. As if a magnet was pulling her, Evelyn found herself lifting the pills to her mouth, but before she could, something took her wrist and kept her from going further.
"Is this where you want to die?"
Evelyn didn't look up. "I find myself back here no matter what I do. I'm tired,"
"Do you want to die?"
"I don't know,"
"Do you want to live?"
"I don't know,"
"Why didn't you take the pills that day?"
"I don't know!"
With that being said, she threw the pills on the floor as if they were burning her hand. They scattered to the ground and vanished in a matter of moments into nothing. On that day, she had flushed the pills down the toilet and forgotten about them altogether. Years had gone by since then, and yet, how the hell did she always find herself back here?
"If you wanted to die, you would have done so a long time ago, yet you're still here, aren't you?"
Evelyn searched around the sterile room for anyone but didn't see a single person there. The voice seemed to resonate through the room like a hollow echo, but it felt as though whoever was speaking was close.
"Dying now would be a waste. After all, you have so much work left to do; so many promises to keep; so much to atone for,"
Her eyes scanned the small room until she was certain she had covered everything, only to discover that the person speaking stood on the other side of the mirror. Their face was blurred by fog, but she had found what she was looking for.
"Why are you in there?" she asked.
"There's always something separating us," the figure answered. "You won't accept us, and because of that, we're truly dying. You're getting your wish fulfilled after all,"
They sounded almost ... melancholic.
She shook her head. "I'm not going to die,"
There was a moment of silence on the other side before they spoke again. "You tricked us into bonding with you, and now, you're going to get us both killed because you didn't keep your end of the bargain,"
"I let you in, thinking that was enough," she stated, but she didn't feel so sure anymore. "You're demanding,"
"You have never been able to entrust your all to anyone but yourself." The figure seemed to shake their head in defeat. "Now, that's not so reversible,"
"You're going to take something from me," she said and narrowed her eyes at the mirror image. "Something I can't afford to lose,"
"I'm not going to take anything you're not willing to give me, but if you want us to live, then we're going to have to share,"
"I already have shared with you,"
"Borrowed," the figure corrected her pointedly. "Not shared. There's a distinctive difference,"
She curled her hands into fists and suppressed the urge to shatter the mirror into pieces. "You killed people,"
"And is that different from what you did?" they asked her. "We did what we had to in order to survive. The only difference is that now, you can make up for it, and I won't have to drag us both down into the abyss neither of us enjoys."
As much as she loathed to admit it, they had a point.
"… What do I have to do?"
Silence was her answer for a moment until a pair of arms suddenly reached out to her from the other side of the mirror, resembling hands going through liquid substance. At first, the hands were in a familiar blue color she had grown both to fear and to admire, but the next second, they changed into an ebony color that she knew already too well.
"Don't reject us, Evelyn Rachel March. Let us live as one,"
Evelyn stood still for a minute, uncertain of what to do. The hands bid her towards them, like an old friend greeting her for the first time in years.
Finally, she reached for them and took their hands. Their fingers intertwined and she felt warmth flood through her body as the hands pulled her through the mirror and into the other side of its reflective surface. As she reached the other side, she felt like she was floating in space, with nothing keeping her down anymore.
The individual holding her hands wasn't human. Their blue exterior and white eyes were regarding her just as she was regarding them, but from the way their hands remained interwoven, you would never have guessed that they once bore a mutual sense of distrust towards each other. Now, however, they had no choice but to depend on each other.
Evelyn, for the first time since she first made contact with this being, no longer seemed to harbor the same sense of antipathy towards it like she initially had. Instead, it seemed like she depended on it for guidance and life; this creature was her redemption.
Against her nature, she wrapped her arms around their waist and kept them close, not knowing quite why. They felt warm to the touch, unlike how cold they were in the beginning, and it was ... comforting not to be alone.
Likewise, Lasher seemed to reciprocate the gesture and proceeded to wrap their arms around the doctor's considerably smaller frame. To anyone who watched, they resembled lovers; companions; friends; families; allies. They were together in this; together as one, and while they had still a long way to go, this was as good as any start could be.
"We will live,"
They had been so close to capturing them. Carlton had seen the fight himself, and to say the least, he marveled at the thought of how humanity could salvage from this. However, there was much left for them to do, and Treece had done little to succeed in even the simplest of tasks.
As he stood there in the facility amongst the shattered remnants of the cell where Skirth had been contained, he found himself lost in the view of such destruction. The sound of broken glass beneath his shoes came like music to his ears, and yet, no matter how much he tried to tell himself that this would cost a fortune to repair, money was the least of his concerns.
The doors suddenly opened and the guards, along with Treece, entered. As he expected, they were empty-handed.
Without wasting his breath on a word, Carlton ordered them out with the wave of his hand. Just as they were about to leave, he opened his mouth with cold composure that could fill the room with ice.
"Treece, you can stay,"
The Head of Security did so, albeit reluctantly. He already knew what he had coming, and he wouldn't like it one bit.
Once the rest of the team were out and the doors shut themselves, Carlton finally turned to Treece with a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
"Treece,"
"Y-Yes, boss?"
"Do you think I'm ignorant?"
The guard flinched for just a moment before he composed himself. "Sir?"
"I said," Carlton repeated, his patience running thin. "Do you think I'm ignorant?"
"No … Why are you asking–"
"Because you seem to be under the impression that I'm oblivious towards what you did, Treece,"
By the way Treece flinched upon hearing this collected accusation, Carlton knew he had him exactly where he wanted.
"I'm … I don't know what you're insinuatin–"
"I'm not 'insinuating' anything." The fact that he still attempted to play the fool in this insulted Carlton. "I know that Evelyn could not have gained access to Dora's cell on her own, and the blood in the cell did not belong to Dora, did it?"
Treece was quiet.
"Did it?" Carlton repeated, snapping his head back to look at him.
"… No,"
"Then, who did it belong to?"
"… March,"
"That's right," Carlton confirmed as he took a couple of steps towards him. "It belonged to Evelyn. Now, my question is..."
He didn't stop until he stood but a feet away from Treece, who was now making it his life's mission to avoid making eye contact with his boss.
"How in the hell did she bond with the symbiote?" His words slipped past his lips like a whisper, which succeeded in making Treece sweat with fear.
"She was …" he began whilst trying to assemble his words. "She was trying to free Skirth. I tried to stop her. One thing led to another, and I accidentally opened the cell and she slipped inside,"
His excuse was, as expected, pathetic.
Carlton could easily see that he was lying through his teeth, but he had already gained the information he required. As such, he took a step back and turned to the broken cell, his face unreadable.
"Is that all, then?"
"I … Yes,"
"Then you may leave,"
Obviously not expecting this, Treece was quick to turn around and make his way towards the exit.
"Treece,"
The guard stopped.
"After this, we can't risk killing them. Retrieve them both to me alive,"
"… Yes, sir,"
"Until then, I don't want to see you unless you have them. Understood?"
"…. Crystal, sir,"
Carlton relished how Treece believed he was out of the fire. In reality, he had but hours left to live, and once he retrieved Brock and Evelyn, his fate was sealed in stone.
For his sake, Carlton hoped Treece believed in a God, because there wouldn't be one where he would end up.