Chapter 3 conversation
— How... how are you talking to me? I mean, not with your mouth... — Is it telepathy? — Are you inside my head?
— Yes. I can connect to your mind. I can feel what you feel. Hear your surface thoughts.
— So... if I just think, you understand everything?
So I just need to think and you'll answer me, I thought.
— Yes — he answered automatically.
(A/N: From this point on, the entire conversation happens telepathically.)
— And you... do you have a name?
— I am Venom.
— And I'm Peter.
— I know. I read it in your memories.
— You can read my memories?
— Yes.
— So... you know everything I've done?
— Yes. Including that time you stole a slice of Aunt May's cake.
— What?! Don't tell anyone, please!
— I won't tell anyone... if I can stay in your body. And you don't tell anyone I'm here.
— But... I'll have to lie to my mom and dad...
— No. You just need to omit the truth. That's not lying.
— That is lying.
— It's only a lie if someone finds out. Besides, who's going to believe there's an alien inside you?
We stayed quiet for a bit. All you could hear was the rain hitting the leaves outside. And my heartbeat... which was much calmer now.
— Are you an alien? — I asked, trying to sound serious. — Like... the kind that eats brains?
— Maybe.
I froze. Stayed very still.
— That was a joke, right?
— Maybe... — he answered reeeeally slowly. I didn't like that.
— So... are you gonna eat my head?
— No. Your brain is safe. For now...
— That's terrifying!
I felt a weird tremor. Like someone laughed inside me. Not in my ears. Inside my chest. It was him. He laughed inside me.
— Relax, Peter. Your brain is safe. I promise.
— That doesn't help much...
— Jokes aside... yes, I'm a symbiote. My species needs a host to survive. I absorb what you eat, what your body feels. And... sometimes, in extreme cases...
He paused. Seemed to be choosing his words carefully.
— I can eat phenylethylamine. It's an essential compound for me.
I stayed silent. The word tickled something in my memory. I remembered.
— Phenylethylamine... — I repeated softly, frowning. — That's in the brain... I read it in Aunt May's biology book... — I stared off, trying to recall. — It's like... something that helps people feel happy?
— Exactly. Phenylethylamine helps you feel pleasure, motivation... even love. And I need that to stay... balanced.
— So you do eat brains, liar!!
— I never said I don't eat brains.
— Aaaaaaaaah! — I screamed internally, because now even my throat felt paralyzed with fear.
— Calm down, Peter.
How can I calm down with a brain-eating alien monster in my head?!
— I can eat other things.
Peter calmed down and asked:
— Like what?
— Chicken brains.
There was a silence. Peter made a face.
— Ew! You're a gross alien.
He felt that tickle down his spine again. By now, he was starting to get used to it — and realized Venom was messing with him.
— So you don't eat brains?
— Actually, I do. But I can also survive on chocolate or just the nutrients from your body. Though, if I don't get anything extra, your health could suffer.
— So... if I eat chocolate, you eat too?
— Basically. But I need a lot of chocolate.
— If that means chocolate keeps you away from my brain... then yes.
— Fine, I can get you chocolate... maybe with the money from my piggy bank.
Said Peter with a sad sigh and a heavy heart. He could almost hear the golden lucky coin saying goodbye inside his mind.
— That is a noble sacrifice — said Venom with theatrical seriousness. — The galaxy will remember your generosity.
— You're so dramatic.
— I prefer the term charismatic.
Peter rolled his eyes in his mind. And even though all this felt kind of crazy, he couldn't help a small smile.
— But you have to promise me one thing.
— Whatever you want.
— Don't eat Mr. Buttons.
Venom went silent for two seconds too long.
— The cat?
— Yeah. He's old, but he still runs when he hears the food bowl. So don't touch him.
— Understood. No eating Mr. Buttons... unless he tries to attack me.
— He weighs six pounds and sleeps all day!
— Then we're safe.
Peter let out a long sigh, again.
— This is going to be a long experience, isn't it?
— Yes. But look on the bright side: you'll never be alone again. And I'll give you superpowers.
— What kind of superpowers? Will I be like Captain America?
— Not exactly. You won't have a shield like him. My power is different.
— So what is it like?
— You'll have super strength and speed far beyond a normal human. Sharpened reflexes. Faster healing. And the coolest part: I can help you create living weapons with my own body.
— Living weapons? Like what?
Deciding to show him, Venom started to cover Peter's body, revealing his abilities.
Venom felt Peter's mind fill with curiosity, a bit of apprehension, but also a genuine desire to understand. Without warning, a black shadow began spreading across the boy's skin, like living ink that slid fast but gently, covering his arm.
— Look — Venom projected images in Peter's mind so he could feel everything as if it were real — this is my body transforming. I can shape it however you need.
Suddenly, Peter's arm gained a liquid texture, stretching and forming a blade as sharp as a sword.
— Whoa! — Peter thought, feeling the coldness of the blade and its weight in his hand — This is amazing!
— This is just the beginning — Venom replied, slightly proud.
Peter's entire body was covered by the shiny black mass, forming a living armor that seemed to breathe with him.
— I can increase your strength many times over. Try lifting something heavy.
Peter tried lifting a rock he used to struggle with. Now, with the symbiote's power, it felt light as a feather.
— Wow! I can lift this so easily!
— And there's more — Venom continued, creating small tentacles that sprouted from Peter's back — I can use them to grab things, attack, or protect you.
Peter tested them, moving the tentacles through the air with surprising control.
— And the speed?
Before he could ask again, Venom boosted their connection. Peter's senses sharpened: sounds, smells, even light felt more intense.
— You're fast! — Peter thought, jumping way higher than any normal kid.
— I can also help you heal quickly. If you get cut or injured, I can speed up your cell recovery.
Peter gave a confident smile, feeling energy pulsing through his body.
— See? No need to be scared. We're partners now.
— I'd like to test more, but I have to go home. Mom and dad will be worried.
— Then let's go.
Peter looked up at the dark sky, where the rain was starting to ease up, and took a deep breath. The weight of this new reality was still there, but now he felt something different: a confidence he had never known before.
— Just... try not to turn me into a giant monster in front of my parents, okay?
— I promise — replied Venom, with a voice that was almost... playful. — For now.
— That doesn't help!
Peter ran through the wet streets with absurd lightness. His new reflexes helped him dodge puddles, fences, and even a startled cat with perfect precision.
A few minutes later, already at his doorstep...
Peter stopped, took a deep breath. The black mask of the symbiote retracted like smoke, disappearing beneath his skin and clothes.
— You can... hide like that? Like you're not even here?
— I can camouflage perfectly. No one will notice, as long as you don't get too nervous.
Peter entered the house quietly. His parents were probably still in their room, so he crept up to his bedroom.
— Done.
Once in his room, Peter jumped straight onto the bed. He was exhausted.
Lying on his back, staring at the dark ceiling. The rain still tapped lightly at the window, now more like a lullaby than a threat.
— Today was the weirdest day of my life.
— I agree.
Peter closed his eyes. His body felt heavy, but in a good way. Like after a gym class where he actually managed to hit the ball.
— This is all gonna turn into a weird dream, right?
— No. I'm still here.
— That's what I was afraid of...
Silence.
— And... are you going to sleep too?
— Not exactly. I don't need to sleep like you do. But I can rest, stay quiet. I'll just keep watch for you.
— So... you're like a night guard?
— Something like that. Which makes me better than an alarm clock.
Peter chuckled softly, pulled the blanket up to his neck, and mumbled:
— Good night, Venom.
— Good night, Peter.