Quick reading guide: internal thoughts (italics), 'internal dialogue' and "normal dialogue."
I'm new to fanfiction so any comments and criticism are welcome and appreciated!
It's seriously getting hard to convince myself that this is all worth it… I'm standing here at 1 in the morning in an empty subway station; I couldn't sleep and had this brilliant idea of going to work out knowing full well that that's just gonna make me more painfully awake.
I know why I act like this, I've known it for years; feeling like I'm working towards something that seems exciting like strength or martial arts dulls the pain of my continuous realization that I'm just… not that exciting of a person.
I'm a great programmer, I'm a good mixed martial artist, I'm an ok friend, and an unbearable introvert. It's an outstanding combination of characteristics for a person that interact with each other meticulously to make me into the most uninteresting dude imaginable.
I mean, martial arts, those should be exciting, right? Wrong, nobody cares, and who can blame them? You open up literally any social media and you have Captain America, Spider-Woman, Dr. Strange, just about every superhuman fighting the newest wacky villain to appear. Every. Single. Day.
So what do people tell you when you geek out about martial arts? "Oh! Is that, like, what Captain America does when she fights without her shield?" No, MeLliSa, Captain America does EXPERIMENTAL ROIDS! She's not a "superhero" she's a WALKING FDA VIOLATION!... I don't say that of course… but I think it… I need to work on my conversation skills… Namely by not geeking out about martial arts with random people…
And then for everything else, also, nobody cares. It leaves me with a restricted group of friends composed of programmers… who are just about entirely dudes, geeks… who are also just about entirely programmers… and also just about entirely dudes, and MMA people… who are also just about entirely dudes… and also just about entirely insane… Good lord I need a girlfriend, I'm so lonely…
Perhaps it's time to change stuff. I need to meet new people, do new things.
Martial Arts and programming have been my whole thing since I was a kid but I'm in college now. Aren't people supposed to do other stuff here? Meet other people? Go partying? Develop a drug addiction? Socially respectable things like that?
My train of thought is officially derailed and my actual train that I'm waiting for is officially taking way too long to arrive.
I stretched my back, looking upwards, and sighed.
I need to go easier on the deadlifts, mix in a few of the boring exercises.
Perhaps Leo can introduce me to some new people… Nah, no shot his social life is any better than mine. Maybe… wait, what's that?
A sort of… goo was moving around above my head, clinging to the tubing like it was alive. It then dripped down in a long viscous string of black substance.
I avoided the slow descent of the thing and watched it clump on the concrete floor.
Man, this type of shit only happens in New York. I thought, as the substance vibrated slightly.
I approached it with curiosity.
It looks like grease. But why is it moving like- *Hurghkkk*
The piece of liquid jumped onto my face, not even giving me enough time to scream. I fell back and immediately started trying to pull it off. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream. I couldn't see. As I stumbled and felt the burning of my skin spread through my body, I felt myself lose my footing, falling onto two bars of cold hard steel. I heard the train. This is it.
'I can't tell if you're weak… or strong…'
'What? What's going on?'
'We are transforming…. Adapting… Evolving…'
'We? Who are you?'
'Who I am, doesn't matter at all... The real question is: Who are we?'
'What does that even mean?'
'Let us… find out…'
"Ah!" I slammed into my bed and woke up agitated. No. I didn't slam into my bed. It was a dream. I hate that feeling.
I felt weird, groggy. But not your typical morning-groggy… There was a tingling sensation in my body, my skin, I felt like I could breathe in more, breathe for the first time in years.
I got up from bed but was sitting, sitting on the table drinking coffee. Who made this coffee? Who made these eggs? I need to concentrate, I need to write down these notes because this could come in the test. I'm taking a class? I'm taking a class. No, I'm not. I'm on the subway; I'm going home. No, I'm not. I'm home. I've been home for a while; It 's night time. I'm in front of the monitor but it's not turned on. How do I turn it on? Why haven't I turned it on? What's happening?
I got up in a sudden burst of clarity that was immediately replaced with panic.
What just happened, did the entire day just go by? What time is it?
I tripped with the bed's leg when the door knocked.
"Eddie?" A familiar voice asked through the door.
"Wh-who is it?"
"Uh, Leo? Your roommate?"
"Leo… you're there…"
"Yep… I do enjoy being… where I am…"
I understood his words, the situation, even his sarcasm. But at the same time, I understood nothing, everything seemed different, incomprehensible.
"Are you okay, man?" He asked.
"I passed by you this morning while you were having breakfast and tried to talk to you like five times but you just answered with nonsense."
"I-I don't know, Leo."
"...Do you want me to call someone?"
"No."
"...Do you want to talk?"
"No."
"You're not… going to do something stupid, are you?"
"No."
"Can you please just tell me what's going on?"
Could I? I wanted to but, could I tell myself what's going on? I had to think. Figure out what was happening. I needed words that could give myself meaning.
"I'm going through something, Leo. I don't know what it is quite yet, but I'll get through it. I always do."
I felt something inside me growl. I didn't hear the sound, but experienced the pleasure of it, of a predator who, for the first time, extends its claws.
"Ok? There's a weird amount of conviction in your words so I'll just let you figure it out. Sure you don't need anything?" Leo answered, interrupting the feeling that was spreading through my body.
"No, Leo."
"Ok! Uh, goodnight then."
"Goodnight."
I felt Leo slowly start to turn to leave me and noticed what I missed:
"Leo."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you…"
"Don't mention it, dude… Oh, and if you're about to turn into a superhero then you've gotta introduce me to Spider-Woman, deal?"
I understood the humor, understood that he was reassured about my state of mind, I could also hear the smile on his lips. Why could I hear that? Why could I hear him turn around behind my door? Why could I hear his heartbeat? Why did I have an impulse to make the heartbeat stop?
"Sure…"
I had a moment of clarity as he left. I had to figure out what was happening.
Am I tripping? I don't do drugs… Was I spiked? Who am I kidding, I don't do "socializing" either.
Something happened yesterday. Yesterday? Today? Did something happen? Something happened. At the subway station. No, that was a dream. Is this a dream? No, this is real. Is this real? Fuck I can't control my thoughts. What do I do when I can't control my thoughts?
A breeze interrupted me, sending a shiver down my spine. I looked out the window; it was open. I listened to the window as she spoke to me. She told tales of crime, traffic, stress, work. She told tales of sadness, of hope.
I didn't want to listen to her, so I told her to stop.
Silence.
Nothing.
Dark.
Not dark.
Black.
Him.
'Who are you?'
'You… already asked that of me… Edward. You know that you will only know who I am… once you've understood who WE are…'
'Am I sleeping?'
'You… have never been more AWAKE.'
'Then, I want to sleep.'
'Do you?'
'…No.'
'Then… What DO you want… Edward?'
I knelt. Closed my eyes.
I had never done this: meditating. But I felt like it was necessary; I was tired of asking myself questions for them to never be answered.
Time slithered its way out of my fingers. I didn't try to stop it, didn't so much as close my grip. I just let it slide so that it would leave me alone, in the void.
'I want to fight. I want to love.'
'Who do you wish to fight? Who do you wish to… love?'
'No… Not who. I just want. I want for the sake of wanting. I've wanted nothing at all for far too long.'
'…Interesting… VERY interesting… You might just be… worth my time…'
'I still don't even know who you are.'
'You will... now… go back to sleep.'
I opened my eyes. I was not in bed, I was on it, kneeling, looking outside.
…Did I talk to a fucking window?
I got up and stood on my surprisingly not-destroying-my-mind-with-unparalleled-pain-and-numbness legs and stepped out of my room and noticed that I was… outside my room. Not in class, not in the subway, not on a horse-drawn cart heading to Helgen. I was outside my room like I was supposed to be. I sighed in relief.
I noticed that my body still felt weird while I walked to the living room, but so long as my mind was in check, I was fine with it.
The gentle creaking of the synthetic-wood floor accompanied me to find Leo having breakfast. He gazed at me, seeming weirdly concerned.
"Eddie! You ok?!" He asked as he got up and got close to me.
"Uh, yeah. A bit hungry, I guess."
"Yeah, no shit. Did you ever come out of your room?"
"What, like last night?" I had a hard time understanding his question.
"Sure! Or, like, yesterday? Or at all? Like, what happened?"
"Leo, calm down. What's going on? You weren't this freaked out when we talked last night."
He slowly furrowed his brow. He seemed even more concerned.
"Eddie… Do you know what day it is?"
"Uh… Friday?"
"Sunday, Ed. It's Sunday."
Oh shit… I was out for over two days…
We sat down and talked over coffee. Leo told me that he had knocked on my door every day to check on me and I just asked him to be left alone. Leo is more than a roommate, he's my closest friend; I felt like a certified douchebag making him worry like that.
I explained what had happened… sort of. I didn't want to make Leo worry over the hallucinations and voices when even I couldn't explain them fully, and knowing how much of a superhero nerd he is, he could've well started speculating that I was acquiring superpowers as opposed to, well, probably schizophrenia.
"So… You're going to the doctor, right?" Leo said after we had both calmed down.
"Nah, I feel better now. I'm just gonna rest it out."
Leo stared at me with clear disappointment in his eyes.
"Edward?"
Uh-oh, not the full name.
"Yeah?"
"Did you know that cancer is more lethal for men than for women?"
"I… didn't know that…"
"Care to take a guess as to why?"
I sighed in resignation.
"Considering the context of our conversation… I'm guessing they don't seek medical treatment as much as women do…"
"Go see a doctor, Eddie."
"Ok."
…
"So you had a dissociative attack that lasted the better part of a day and then you 'meditated' for over 2 days straight, and have felt better ever since?" The doctor asked.
"Yeah, that about sums it up."
"Did you eat during those 50 hours?" She asked, her incredulity twisting her otherwise professional expression.
"I don't think so. I don't remember though."
"You don't remember anything?"
"Yeah."
"Any other symptoms? Something you felt physically, perhaps?"
"Umm, yeah. A sort of tingling sensation in all of my skin and, like, really full, deep breaths."
She stared at me, an odd mixture of confusion and annoyance on her face.
"So, really deep breaths?"
"Yeah."
"Was it uncomfortable?"
"No, it actually felt… better than ever."
The doctor looked at me in silence. The clock on the wall ticked louder attempting to relieve the tension.
"Do you have a history of brain conditions in your family? Anything along the lines of epilepsy, for instance?"
"Not that I know of."
"Perhaps any history of more psychiatric issues?"
"What, like schizophrenia?"
"That would be an example."
I could tell she was being cautious not to freak me out; it was freaking me out.
"No, I don't think anyone in my family had that but…"
She awaited my response.
"I have been hearing a… voice."
She looked at me this time more empathetically.
"Does the voice tell you to do things, Mr. Brock?"
"No. I mean, not so far. I've only talked with it a couple of times. Once while I was dreaming and another while I was meditating. It just asked me things, who 'we' are and things like that." I accentuated the "we" with air quotes.
"Hmm… Mr. Brock, you seem to be experiencing an… uncommon set of symptoms which could result from either a neurological issue or a psychological one." She said as she pulled a form from a drawer and wrote down something on it.
"I'm unfortunately incapable of making an educated guess on what your condition is, let alone a diagnosis, so I won't be ordering any tests." She said, as she finished writing and placed her pen back in her coat.
"Instead, I'll refer you to Dr. Ramirez, the resident psychiatrist of our hospital. He'll be able to assess your situation more appropriately. Sounds good?"
Sounds expensive… No, I'm not gonna say it like that.
"Ok… Psychiatrists are expensive though, right?"
"Specialized services tend to be more costly, Mr. Brock, yes. Nevertheless," she sighed, as if she spoke of something truly overwhelming, "your symptoms are really concerning. You should really seek Dr. Ramirez's help. Maybe you could talk to your insurance company to consider affordable options for psychiatric evaluation."
"Yeah, you're right, doctor. Thanks."
"My pleasure. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"
"The bill, heh…"
"..."
"Sorry… bad joke."
"Have a good evening, Mr. Brock."
"Thanks, you too."
On my way out I was having trouble deciding whether to cringe at my words or at the medical bill.
Aren't walk-in clinics supposed to be cheap? Man, this type of shit only happens in New York… Ok maybe it happens in the rest of the country too but it's really bad in New York.
I was definitely going to wait a while to see if this repeated itself before I went to a psychiatrist; student loans are stressful enough.
And now what? I'm here, Sunday afternoon, with a potential undiagnosed neurological issue. Should I do something? Go somewhere?
I eventually just decided to go home, code a little, get ahead on some assignments.
I made myself some coffee and sat down in front of the keyboard. The screen took its familiar dark color as Visual Studio covered the monitor.
This was the moment. The time to test if, at the very least, my reasoning was still working.
I scrolled up to check what I had written before. I remembered: An IoT project. A system for a botanical lab at uni that could control and maintain the temperature, light and humidity levels of an unspecified amount of units for studying plants.
I had written this using object oriented programming so it wasn't too hard to pick back up and understand what's going on.
Alright, relatively straight forward project but difficult nonetheless; the perfect test for… whatever's going on with my mind.
Once I was back on track with what I had written before (because that happens a lot when you're an unorganized college programmer), I took a slow sip of coffee and placed it back down to start typing.
I let myself sink into the vacuum of abstract work. The drumming of the keyboard and the monotonous song of the streets of New York set the rhythm for the wind and the coffee vapor's dance.
What I wrote made sense. I didn't spend much time thinking or pausing. I occasionally went to the internet to check a couple of functions but nothing out of the ordinary. I was in the zone, if anything my progress was weirdly fluid.
Build and run.
I played around with the UI and checked what was being outputted on my simulated devices. As far as I could tell, the thing would work, just had to try it on the actual lab.
I looked at the bottom right of the monitor. It took me one and a half hours to finish this.
It wasn't just my impression, my brain was… buffed for some reason. This should've been at least a four hour job, instead all the time spent thinking about solutions and trying to figure out what was going wrong just… didn't happen.
Whatever was going on with my mind, I wanted it happening. The psychiatrist would definitely have to wait.
I layed back on my bed, putting a couple of pillows behind me. I spent a little while looking on my phone for anything that could fit all of the crazy symptoms plus this increase of my cognitive faculties. Nothing really fit.
I dropped my phone on my chest and sighed. A part of me wanted to open TikTok or something. Take my mind off things, but I was far too curious on whatever was going on to distract myself.
I eventually just chose to rest my eyes, see if a little nap would help with answers.
I closed them. I felt restless. I tried to turn around to my side but… I couldn't, I couldn't feel my body at all. I opened my eyes.
"Woah, woah, woaaah! W-w-what's happening where-"
'Quiet. Your cowardice disgusts me.'
"W-what the fuck man?! W-w-what do you want from me?"
'I'm no measly 'man,' Edward… and the only thing I want… is to enjoy the fresh night air.'
I made an effort to keep my eyes off the expansive drop directly in front of me; looking at the skylines instead dulled the vertigo that made me feel like my stomach was about to come out of my mouth.
"I-I can't-I can't move-I can't-w-why can't I-I-"
'Well of course you can't, Eddie… if you moved, how would we enjoy this beautiful view?'
"Ok… ok look, uh, sir or ma'am or whatever it is… I'll do what you ask of me, really, anything! Just, let's calm down, ok?"
'Oh, I'm calm… very calm… And you already know what I want…'
"What you-? Right, right… umm, you wanted me to tell you what we are."
'Correct.'
"I… I really don't-"
'I wouldn't finish that answer if I were you. I've not a lot of patience for idiocy.'
"Ok… ok… Umm…"
I wracked my brain for an answer. Is there a time limit for this? Is it a trick question? A riddle? What is this edgy piece of shit doing in my brain?
It could be a ghost. But why a ghost? Why me? A spirit? It doesn't sound like a spirit. Could it be…
"You're the thing that fell on me… It wasn't a dream."
'Correct. But that's not what I asked for.'
"Right… right… ok…"
I made the mistake of looking down briefly. I saw the lights, the cars, all ever so small.
"Are you… a parasite?"
'A being that leeches off another for its benefit. Damaging or killing the other in the process… it does sound appealing. Do you think that's what I am?'
Fuck, did I just insult him? This is a really bad time to flex my ability to ruin conversations.
"No!… no… you haven't damaged me… not really…"
'So? I'm getting bored, Brock… What are we?'
"Umm… you help me… with my brain or whatever and I help you… as a host… right?"
'...'
"It's a… a… fuck!… a symbiosis! We're a symbiosis! Right?"
'...'
"Look, if I got it wrong, I swear that I'll figure it out. Really! I'll do or… or think whatever you need. Just please let me move."
'Silence.'
Welp, this is it. I'm gonna die.
"You said you wanted to fight… and love..."
God, that sounds so cringe in hindsight.
'I can help you achieve what you desire. But I need to know what I'm getting in return. Are you a worthy host?'
"Y-yeah! Sure! Although… what makes a worthy host?"
'I have the power… from you I need fearlessness! But you cower like a weakling simply standing here... Can you change that, Edward?'
I stared down at the abyss. I knew that I had to lie, there was no other option.
'You're wrong.'
'What? You dare question ME?'
What? I dare question HIM? What the fuck am I doing?
'Cowardice is when you don't confront your fears. So people that are fearless are cowards, always.'
I didn't know what was fuelling this spurt of suicidal honesty but I was already too deep in it to stop.
'I'm brave not because I don't fear the cage, but because I get in it anyways, no matter how terrified it makes me.'
'The cage?'
'Yes, it's my battleground. A place where I fight, not for glory or fame, just for fighting itself.'
'Interesting, and how often do you go into this… cage?'
'I've done it 12 times so far.'
'I'm unimpressed by that number.'
'I don't do it to impress you. I don't do it to impress anyone.'
The voice fell into silence once again. I felt a spark of confidence in me, if ever so faint.
'Very well, you can move now.'
My sigh was interrupted by my straining body.
"Umm… I don't think I can."
'You can.'
"... We still talking about moving here? cause I'm trying to step back and I'm not budging."
'Well that's just the thing: you can only move… forward. A beautiful metaphor, is it not?'
I stared down into the abyss… fuck.
"Ummm… I see how this relates well to what I just said but do you think you could test me in a way that-"
'Causes less fear?'
"...Ok… point taken… but perhaps we could rethink of it as: 'a way that is less deadly'?"
'No.'
"It could be just as scary! Maybe even scarier!"
'No.'
"...Are you gonna catch me?"
'Why would I?'
"Why wouldn't you!?"
'You have my power brewing within you; you'll probably recover.'
"Probably!?"
'Hmmm… Fair enough. I correct: you'll possibly recover.'
"That's not what I meant at all!"
'I could also just leave.'
"Really?"
'Yes. I could drop down alone. Get another host. You would continue to lead your life as you have been: pathetically, while another grows with me to become exceptional.'
"How are you so sure that I'd be… pathetic?"
'Because when given the chance to risk your life to become something greater, you went with the safe route. By your own standards, you are a coward, and will always be a coward, no matter how many little 'cages' you go into.'
I stared down once again. My body experienced the reaction that it always has when I look at great heights: That impulse to move backwards, the electricity flowing up my legs. But this time, instead of getting stuck in my head, stifling my breath, causing me to tremble, that electricity passed through my mind and vanished.
Is this it? Is this my opportunity? My opportunity to change?
The void looked at me. It was far too cruel to answer those questions for me.
This thing is right. If I don't take this opportunity, more will come, yet I won't take those either, because this is what bravery is about; not jumping when you feel ready to jump, but when it is time to jump.
It was stupid, completely irrational: following this supernatural voice in my head and dropping down a skyscraper, but I was doing it anyway, because I wanted to… and…
'I've wanted nothing at all for far too long.'
'And do you want this?'
'Yes.'
'Will you back out?'
'No.'
'How do you know you won't?'
'I know because my body is already horizontal; I've let myself lean forward and have no way back, I can only fall.'
'How do you feel?'
'I'm scared, so scared. I don't want to die. Everything is slow. The wind going into my eyes is blinding me. I really don't want to die.'
'Who are you?'
'It doesn't matter, I am dead.'
'Who am I?'
'It doesn't matter, you are death.'
'And who are we?'
'We… are Venom.'
'YEEEESSSS!'
I felt my flesh engorge with emotion. It was not just fear, it was anger, hatred, and it was dark.
Our body morphed the city into a blur as we moved through it. The buildings extended and contracted as we saw fit, just like our limbs, just like our thoughts.
My wishes and will weren't mine anymore, they were ours. As I wished to reach for the night sky, so did it, and as it wished to let itself fall, so did I.
We reached the top of the empire building, held onto its steel and looked at our realm, our cage, and then… I woke up.
I raised from the sheets till sitting, looked out the window.
"...Was that a dream?"
'No.'
I looked at my arm and willed it to ooze the black flesh, to contort into my nightmares. So it did.
'This is gonna be awesome.'
'Yes… we will be.'
