Edit:

Fixed grammatical errors

Fixed crappy NARM parts

Fixed paragraph layout and punctuation.

It had been five days since his little visit to the exhibit. Five days since his life changed forever, even though he didn't know it yet. Five days since the worst headache he'd ever felt subsided and left him feeling all tingly, too.

Five days since his life changed forever. But who says that that was a bad thing?

He laughed giddily as his fingers touched the wall of his 'home'. A tingle spread throughout his body, warning him of a falling rock from the roof, which a black tendril coming from his clothes knocked out of the way with ease. That same tendril, danced around him eagerly and excitedly. He put his tiny hands on the wall and laughed again. As he did, the tingle came back ten fold, making him shudder in pleasure, his eyes closed gently as an after effect.

His clothes were baggy like always. Billowing as wind brushed past him from the window, blowing his hair back from his face. He closed his eyes and shivered. He got up with a yawn and stretched, causing his bones to crack and set themselves as he began to walk around. The place was sort of ratty... yeah, ratty was a good word for it. He lived in a freaking abandoned corner store fore Christ's sake! It was nothing special, he had no electricity of course, no heat, and barely anything to keep him warm at all.

He could remember the people here before him had left a bunch of stuff before they left... but he had no idea where they went or why, and didn't even remember what they looked like.

He couldn't stop thinking on the same train of thought: in the winter, he didn't know how he survived. New York was as cold as can be not long after fall started. It seemed that there were only two real seasons the way spring seemed to be more summer than anything else, and fall skipped straight to the snow filled wonderland. It was a phenomenon he thought about a few times, but every time he recalled the winter and him trying to stay alive during it he came up with a really vague image of him waking up and feeling really well rested.

He felt something tickle his face giggled responsively. A thin, small black tendril rose from his clothes and danced around. It soon disappeared though, leaving the him to his devices once again. Of course, the lack of company didn't leave him without anything to do for long. It was then that his stomach growled. He flushed a little but made his way through the room to downstairs. Making his way through all of the mess that littered the floor, which held chip bags, candy wrappers, juice cartons, and bottles of pop, and even clothes, he started to walk down the stairs, to get something to eat.

There wasn't much left, since many of the supplies had spoiled long ago. He had been on his own for a while now, a little over a year in fact. The chocolate milk had started bubbling and the cheese was, well he wasn't sure what to call it, but he was pretty sure that cheese nd bread weren't supposed to move on their own, and then graft to each other like glue. The chips were still pretty good, but not good as they used to be. Some of the pop had long ago gone flat, and it was luke warm as well, just like everything else. The bread was all moldy, causing him to pick and choose what parts were safe to eat, and which ones weren't.

That wasn't his only problem though, as bug ate away at his food as well. He couldn't recall how many times he found them in the sugar or the bread before. Oddly enough, there were spiders there too, but they seemed to gravitate around the store and eat most of the little insects, and still he avoided being bitten by them as well.

This was why a lot of the ceiling was covered in webs and dust, populated by spiders here and there, and some were hidden in the corners of the ceiling, or on the wings of the fan. Since he had no TV he just watched them sometimes, as they did well, nothing, everyday. Some were more interesting than others, like the ones that burrowed into the ground and grabbed ants or roaches from it to eat.

He supposed he was like the dog whisperer, except for spiders, since he was able to pick up the larger ones without a problem, and they just sat on his hand quietly, unless a fruit fly or ant was nearby, then they'd jump off and chase after them.

Walking around the isles he found what he was looking for. It was a simple lunch making pack, like lunchables, thought it seemed to be a more cheaper and lacking version of it to him. Because it took a long time to become spoiled if the preset date on the pack was any indication, and there were a lot of them around the store, this was what he ate most frequently, despite the dismal taste. He also was glad that it had a juice box in it, since he drank way more than he ate. Taking a closer look, he saw that there was only one left on the shelf. He frowned as he looked around. It was his least favorite one too. Pickles and granola bars with crackers and cheese powder was the most disgusting thing he had ever eaten.

He heard squeaking and scattering and looked at the ground just in tie to see a rat sticking it's nose into a bag of chips. He frowned. That was his food!

Just then, one of the bigger spiders looming over head in one of the stacks that hadn't been thrown out or taken out jumped down directly on the rat and sunk its fangs into it, and in a matter of seconds it had stopped trying to fight back and became almost completely still, save for the minor twitching that he found strangely amusing.

As it dragged it's prey away in a fast back pedal, Peter reached down to pick up the bag with no other reason than out of sheer childhood curiosity. The spider stopped crawled forward to his hand and stopped... and then tapped his hand experimentally and looked up at Peter for a few moments before it continued to move away. Peter shook his head. It was not the first time, and it certainly wouldn't have been the last.

Forget that that specific strain of spider wasn't a real 'native' in New York City, and no spider in the city was that big. Forget that the spider was roughly a third of the rat, maybe even just as big, or that even regular specimens of its species couldn't and wouldn't have such an appetite for a big vermin.

Forget that the spider had a red hourglass pattern on it's back and forget that Peter knew none of this, and considered it a normal occurrence,

Besides, to worry about such things when you found you could crawl up walls was just... Well he didn't know, but he did know that doing it would make him pretty dumb.

On a side note, though less important to Peter at the moment, he had already gone through the 'Oh god I have super powers phase, or is it a dream, no its not a dream I have superpowers!' phase.

Though it was really awesome and great, he knew that people didn't take kindly to those with powers at all. As a matter of fact, every once in a while there was a mob hold an, 'Anti-Homo superior' party not far away. He still didn't what homo-superior meant but he had a feeling that it had to do with the mutants that had been popping up all around his part of town.

He had even seen children get beaten on because they were different, and saw that the people took pleasure in it. He was glad to have a gift, but he didn't want to be hated because of it. Besides, its not like he ever asked for it anyway.

Climbing up the glass door with ease, he looked over the top and started to reach around. He touched a few boxes, a few spiders or carcasses of insects and webs before he found a box that he thought was a lunchable for him. Keeping one hand on the glass as he grabbed the box he looked at it. Nothing of interest, just another expired product that he couldn't eat and some weird dusty box with metal plating on the front. Oh well.

His curiosity spiked again and he grabbed the box and let go of his grip on the glass and fell to the ground and walked up the stairs, not noticing the black tentacle stretch out and grab a few bags of chips nearby.

Once he got up the stairs, he plopped down into a chair and looked the box over. It was getting darker and darker by the minute, as the sun was going down. Thankfully though, he could see perfectly, albeit a little perfectly to the point of him having to squint his eyes sometimes. He pried the lock of with ease, and opened the box. What was inside was a simple necklace, with an 'E' and an 'X' on it horizontally. It shone with an unnatural glow, and seemed like it was brand new. He turned it over curiously, and looked to see it had words inscribed along the back.

"To Riho, the best leader we ever had, Treina," he read aloud, as the chain glinted magnificently in eyes. His child like curiosity kicking in, he put the necklace on him, and put the box to the side. When he did, he saw the tentacle holding a bag of chips right in his face. He stared at it for a few seconds before it shook it as if saying, "Well? Take it!" He complied with a slow nod, and thanked it, before he started eating. "Thanks Benumb," he said with his mouth stuffed, as he smiled at the tentacle with his eyes closed as chips flew from his mouth.. He felt a shiver go throughout his body as the tentacle receded.

It hadn't taken him a long time to meet the symbiote. A little over a day, in fact. To be honest, he passed out after he left the exhibit on spiders with a killer headache, and felt like his head was going to explode. His whole body felt as if it was on fire, especially his wrists. When he got home, they were bleeding slightly, and had little knife like things protruding from them. That wasn't all, as there was even bigger bulges in his wrists and forearms too. He found it extremely hard to stay conscious as his balance was impaired, his eyesight began to get fuzzy, and a voice in his head was saying something he couldn't comprehend.

Then everything went black.

When he woke up, he found himself covered in a black substance that was holding him down. It seemed to be a cocoon of sorts, since he was unable to move from the neck down. That was when the voice came again, in the form of laughter. He really thought he was going crazy, like that guy that called himself Deadpool or something, and the way when on TV for interviews he always spoke of 'little yellow boxes'.

Little anecdote: Once a boy named Peter was walking in another store the guy pointed off screen at him it seemed like while he was thinking about something. He went on some rant about how he didn't think that anyone else had little boxes, and asked why were his blue. Then he said that he knew he was talking about and said "You! What the hell are you doing here? Get out! We already have our own Spider-Man! Well, he's just a kid right now but in a few years he'll be talking just as much as me! You'll see!"

He hadn't gone back since then.

After he managed to get out of the cocoon the voice began talking to him after it finished laughing, and it was only then that he realized something.

He was on the ceiling. And then he fell down, and then he met the floor ass-first.

-Four Days Ago-

Peter felt his eyebrow twitch as the sound of laughter filled his ears. Not just his ears, but it was as if it was coming from his head, like someone or something was inside his mind and was screwing around in there. He looked around to make sure that it wasn't some psycho that broke in, and was greeted with a frightening distorted voice saying, "You won't find me."

He looked around again but nothing was there. Peter furrowed his eyebrows and rubbed the back of his head. When he stopped he noticed that the laughter ceased, and that he was still rubbing his head, but when he tried to take his hand off, he saw that neither of them were occupied at the time. He half expected some sort of evil spirit of a child to be behind him scratching his head like in that movie he heard about, and turned around.

Nothing was there.

"What the heck," were the words that came from his mouth at the time, before a slender black sliver of something appeared in his line of sight. He jumped back slightly and stared at it with squinted eyes, and saw that it didn't move. Against his better judgment, he poked it. The thing shook a little before he felt a shiver run throughout his whole body, and then a ticklish feeling. The thing, whatever it was, was tickling him under his jaw line. He heard the voice start laughing again, but more softly this time, as if it found it amusing the way it caused him to shiver.

"Wh-what are y-you?" he asked as his shivers turned into giggles, and they soon turned into chuckles. The tickling started more, as the voice simply stated, "Company if you'll let me."

Well this was a predicament! Make friends with an seemingly nonexistent voice inside your head or scream for help? The choices, the choices."I'm P-Peter." He stuttered while wondering what exactly what was going on. "I know," the voice replied, amused, as Peter got a look of expectation on his face, and said, "Well?"

"What?"

"I… don't know. I just thought that since I told you my name you would tell me yours… I guess."

"Oh! Of course, I forgot. I hadn't thought about it before... but I am... Venom," it said hesitantly. Peter got the same feeling he did when he was embarrassed or flustered . "Venom? What kind of name is that? Why did somebody name you that?" Peter had heard weird names before; Carnage, Punisher or Kraven, or even the dorkiest ones he ever heard before, 'The Buzzard' and 'The Vulture', but never Venom.

It was kind of cool. There were so many lame names out there that it was sort of refreshing to hear a nice one for a change.

What kind of person would name their self Scorpion or the Vulture anyway?

"What kind of name is Peter? Who named you that huh? Wait, you stole it, didn't you?" Venom mocked. Peter huffed slightly in annoyance. "I did! That's who! You have a problem with my name o something?" Peter asked, thinking that he was being made fun of. What was wrong with his name? 'Peter' was a good name for someone, right?

"You stole the name, didn't you" Venom muttered sarcastically in a voice frigtheningly similar to Peter's own. "Shut up!"

-Present-

The little boy was drooling as he held the bag of chips in his hands loosely. He unconsciously twitched, and his leg jerked upward, as he fell to the side of the chair, asleep.

Peter stirred slightly in his sleep. His mumbles and incoherent rants by his arm covering his mouth. His snores were soft and natural while his body curled up slightly in a ball, trying to keep warm. Venom noticed this, and reached around for a cover of some sort, to keep the boy warm. It didn't have to go far, and found a quilt on a nearby couch. It was somewhat dusty and dirty, covered in orange power from chips and stains from juice. With a simple yank, it put the cover on Peter before he started to shiver.

It couldn't have its new host get sick.

The next morning Peter walked downstairs to get breakfast. The racks in the isles were emptier than they should have been, and all the bags of chips he had upstairs weren't enough to fill them at all. This didn't surprise him much though. People would come to ransack the place every once in a while. Luckily he hid the money from the cash register and the jewelry so all they could get was the food… He questioned himself if that was such a good idea now though.

The door was boarded up from the outside now though, and it was locked by chains so no one could get in. That made him laugh. If the people in charge were that stupid that they thought that people weren't resourceful enough to break in to places because a door was boarded and chained, then that was just... pathetic.

Grabbing a bag of chips and some other food, he crawled up a chair and a couple of boxes to get to a window and jumped out.

He dug into his bag of chips and in no time finished them completely.

He wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve and unknowingly crossed a street, immersed in thoughts of… well nothing. The sound of a car horn honking filled his ears as he saw the front bumper of a car heading straight toward him. Little did he know, this occurrence would be burned into his thoughts for as long as he lived.

The ringing came back tenfold as he jumped into the air higher than any human could ever hope to and squeezed his eyes shut. The car horn faded along with the curses of the angry driver as she sped off into the distance. Peter opened his eyes to find himself clinging to a wall with ease, a good twenty feet off the ground against a building.

He nearly suffered a heart attack when he looked down and saw the distance between him and the pavement. He momentarily forgot about his situation as the tingling feeling went throughout his whole body as his fingers touched the brick wall. He climbed up with ease, smiling at the feeling before he got to the roof and grasped a chimney pipe to help get himself over the ledge.

After he got up, he heard the pipe groan and creak as he let it go. His eyes widened as he looked to it, only to find that it was crushed to a fine line like aluminum. "I crushed that pipe like paper… Cool!"

That was just the beginning.