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umbra-by-jacqui-natla · 1 month ago
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Chapter Thirty One
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Drake sauntered past the glass containers where the lifeless symbiotes stood: on the floor, on the wall, everywhere his eyes could see. The containment cells, once buzzing with energy and purpose, now resembled cold, sterile graves, each one a silent testament to a dream that had withered before it could fully bloom. The sight of them—drained of life, their once pulsating forms now reduced to cold, inert masses—filled him with a mixture of frustration and resolve. His hands clenched into fists as he walked, the sterile white of the laboratory walls reflecting his grim determination.
The symbiotes had been so close to achieving their purpose, so close to becoming the harbingers of a new world. He had envisioned a future where humanity would rise above its limitations, merging with these alien entities to become something more—something superior. But they had failed him, each one more disappointing than the last. They had proven too fragile, too incompatible with their human hosts, crumbling under the pressure of their own potential.
Drake's eyes flicked to the lifeless bodies within the glass tubes, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have been. He had invested so much—time, resources, even parts of himself—into this project, all in the hope of creating a new breed of beings that could withstand the rigors of a harsh and unforgiving world. But the symbiotes, once brimming with promise, had withered, their potential squandered by hosts who were too weak to handle the transformation.
"Your friends, the others, I apologize," Drake said, his voice low and measured as he spoke into the empty air, his words carrying a weight of sincerity and regret. He wasn't sure who he was apologizing to—the remnants of the symbiotes, the human hosts who had failed them, or perhaps even to himself, for daring to believe that he could control forces so far beyond his understanding. "I tried to keep them alive." There was a flicker of genuine remorse in his tone, though it was quickly overshadowed by the cold pragmatism that had always driven him forward.
In response, Riot's head emerged from Drake's shoulder, the symbiote's eyes narrowing as it surveyed the same scene. Its alien face, a grotesque and powerful reflection of Drake's own ambitions, twisted with displeasure.
"There are more of us," Riot said, its voice a low, guttural growl that echoed in the otherwise silent laboratory. "Millions more. They will follow wherever I lead."
There was a confidence in its tone, an assurance born from the knowledge that its kind was legion, spread across the stars, waiting for the right moment to descend upon this world.
Drake turned his head slightly, meeting Riot's gaze with a resolute expression. "Where we lead," he corrected, his voice firm with conviction. It was more than just semantics to him—this was a partnership, a merging of two beings with a singular vision.
"Yes, 'we'," Riot agreed, though its tone was laced with a hint of annoyance, as if the concept of partnership was an irritant it had to tolerate. It had its own agenda, its own desires, but for now, it needed Drake as much as Drake needed it. "But first, we must retrieve them," Riot continued, its voice taking on a more urgent, commanding edge.
Drake nodded, already considering the logistics of such a task. "I can take care of that," he said confidently. His mind was already working through the details—how to track down the other symbiotes, how to secure them without drawing unwanted attention, how to integrate them into his broader plans. But first, there was another matter to attend to, one that had been weighing on his mind since they had last left the containment chamber.
"Let's check on Carrie first," Drake suggested, his voice softening slightly as he thought of the girl.
Riot's eyes narrowed, the symbiote sensing the shift in Drake's demeanor. It knew there was more to this decision than simple concern. Still, it remained silent, receding back into Drake's body, content to let him lead—for now.
Drake continued down the dimly lit corridor, his thoughts turning inward. Carrie had always been different, even before Umbra. Stories about the Black Prom were major ever since the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Many eyewitness accounts of seeing a girl covered in blood destroying the town without touching anything whatsoever. He then thought about his former colleague, Estelle Horan, when she had asked for time off due to a family matter in Chamberlain.
The memory of Estelle Horan gnawed at the edges of Drake's mind as he walked, her voice still clear in his thoughts even after all this time. She had been a brilliant researcher, driven and meticulous, always the first to arrive and the last to leave the lab. But something had changed in her after that trip to Chamberlain. She'd returned more reserved, almost haunted, her work suffering from a newfound hesitancy that Drake couldn't quite understand.
She had spoken of her family, of the tragic events in Chamberlain that had left deep scars in the small town. But it was the way she spoke of Carrie White that had piqued Drake's interest—how her eyes had darkened with a mixture of fear and reverence, how her voice had trembled as she recounted the stories, the rumors, the terrifying reality of what the girl had become.
Carrie White, the girl with unimaginable power, had been the subject of whispered conversations and half-believed myths ever since the day she had unleashed her fury on the town. The "Black Prom" had become a legend, a cautionary tale told by those who had witnessed the carnage firsthand. The accounts varied—some spoke of telekinesis, others of fire and blood, but all agreed on one thing: Carrie was no ordinary girl. She was something else, something more, a being capable of incredible destruction.
And after seeing Umbra first hand, Drake understood just how much more Carrie White could become. The events in Chamberlain had been no mere aberration. The power she had unleashed that night was but a fraction of what she could achieve with an entity like Umbra fused with her very essence. The potential was staggering, and the thought of harnessing that power—of perfecting it—sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.
He had always been intrigued by stories of those who transcended the limits of human ability, but Carrie was different. She was a living embodiment of what Drake had been striving to create: a perfect fusion of human and something else, something beyond. She had the raw power, the rage, the potential to reshape the world—or to destroy it. And now, with Umbra inside her, that potential had only grown.
Drake's footsteps slowed as he reached the door to the containment chamber. The thick, reinforced steel was a stark reminder of the precautions they had been forced to take. Umbra was ancient, powerful, and fiercely independent, but it was also cunning. It had chosen Carrie for a reason, recognizing in her the same darkness, the same raw power that had once brought an entire town to its knees.
"They need to die," Riot's voice echoed in his head, a harsh whisper that resonated with an insistent urgency.
Drake paused, his hand hovering over the biometric scanner, his mind whirling with conflicting thoughts. He knew Riot was right in a way; if Carrie and Umbra lost control, the consequences could be catastrophic. But the very notion of eliminating them felt like abandoning everything he had worked for—the culmination of years of research, of sacrifice, of pushing the boundaries of what was possible.
"No," Drake said, his voice firm, though the uncertainty in his mind betrayed him. "We need her. Carrie is the key, Riot. She is our way forward."
"She is a liability," Riot hissed, its voice sharp and filled with disdain. "Umbra is too strong. The girl is unstable. They could ruin everything."
Drake clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain control over the alien presence within him. He could feel Riot's frustration, its simmering anger at his hesitation. But he couldn't shake the vision he had of what Carrie could become—a being of immense power, molded and directed by his guiding hand. It was too tantalizing a prospect to abandon.
"Then we make her stable," Drake replied, his voice cold with resolve. "We find a way to channel that power, to control it. We don't need to destroy her; we need to harness her."
There was a pause, a brief silence as Riot retreated into the recesses of Drake's mind, simmering but compliant—for now. Drake knew the symbiote was biding its time, waiting for an opportunity to assert its dominance. But Drake was determined to hold the reins, to steer the course according to his own design.
Carrie found herself sitting on the cold, hard floor, her body curled up into a protective ball. It felt all too familiar, reminiscent of the days when her mother would cruelly confine her to the suffocating darkness of the closet. Minutes would turn into hours, and Carrie would be left alone, abandoned and forgotten. The memories of her past torment flooded her mind, causing her heart to ache with a mixture of fear and sadness.
Lost in her thoughts, Carrie couldn't help but wonder about the whereabouts of Eddie and Venom. The last time she had seen them was at the hospital, amidst a heated argument that had triggered Venom's emergence. The deafening sound had unleashed the symbiote, but since then, they had vanished without a trace. Carrie felt a sense of isolation, trapped within the confines of the glass container in the Life Foundation, unaware of their fate.
"So, you have given up?" Umbra broke through the silence, echoing in her mind and jolting her out of her despair.
Carrie turned her head towards the glass, catching a glimpse of her own reflection. To her surprise, her eyes were no longer her own; they were consumed by darkness, a haunting reminder of Umbra's presence.
Confused, Carrie questioned Umbra's words, her voice filled with uncertainty. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Umbra's voice resonated within her, filled with a mix of concern and frustration. "You're surrendering, Carrie. Allowing Riot and Drake to continue their quest for world domination while you remain locked away."
Carrie shook her head, vehemently denying Umbra's accusation. "No, it's me who's trapped in here. I'm the one giving up. But you, Umbra, you're free," she replied, her voice laced with a tinge of bitterness.
Umbra's voice grew stronger, filled with determination. "Carrie, we are one. We share this body, this power. We cannot let them win."
Carrie felt the weight of Umbra's words sink in, the symbiote's presence wrapping around her consciousness like a shroud. She had always felt out of control, her powers more a curse than a gift, but now, with Umbra, the stakes were even higher. The thought of Drake and Riot continuing unchecked, of Eddie left alone somewhere in this godforsaken place, filled her with a deep, gnawing dread.
"How?" Carrie's voice wavered, her resolve faltering under the crushing pressure of her situation. "How can we fight them? I'm just... I'm just a girl, Umbra. I couldn't stop what happened at Prom. I... I..."
"You are more than what you were then," Umbra replied, its tone almost tender, as if coaxing her out of a dark corner. "You are stronger, more powerful than you realize. And with me, your potential is limitless."
Carrie shivered at the thought. She could feel the symbiote's power coursing through her, a dark and intoxicating force that promised vengeance, control, and an end to the constant fear that had plagued her life. But there was another part of her—a small, fragile part—that recoiled from it, that remembered the devastation she had already caused, the lives she had taken, and the irreversible damage she had done.
"I don't want to hurt anyone," Carrie whispered, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. "I just... I just want to be normal."
Umbra was silent for a moment, a strange, almost contemplative pause that made Carrie wonder if the entity truly understood her. When it spoke again, its voice was low, almost mournful. "Normal is not an option for us, Carrie. But we can choose how to wield our power. We can choose to protect—to prevent others from suffering as we have."
Carrie closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, to calm the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to believe Umbra, wanted to think that she could be something more than the monster she had always feared she was. But the darkness, the power, it was so easy to lose herself in it, to become the very thing she hated.
Before she could respond, the door to the containment chamber creaked open. The sound was jarring, cutting through the silence like a knife. Carrie's eyes snapped open, and she pushed herself up from the floor, her body tense with fear and anticipation.
Drake stepped into the room, his presence commanding, exuding an air of calm authority. Behind him, Riot's presence loomed like a shadow, silent but menacing. Carrie could feel the weight of their combined gaze on her, assessing, calculating. It was as if they were measuring her worth, determining whether she was an asset or a threat.
"Carrie," Drake said, his voice smooth, almost soothing. "I've been thinking a lot about you, about what you can do. You're special, you know that? More special than you even realize."
Carrie remained silent, her eyes darting between Drake and the place where she knew Riot was lurking, just beneath the surface. The air in the room felt thick, oppressive, as if every molecule was charged with the tension between them.
Drake took a step closer, his expression softening as he continued, "You don't have to be afraid anymore, Carrie. I can help you. Together, we can learn to control your powers, to channel them for something greater. You can be a part of something extraordinary."
Carrie's mind raced. She knew this was a lie, a manipulation designed to bend her to his will. But at the same time, a part of her longed for the promise he was offering—the promise of control, of belonging, of finally being something other than a victim.
But Umbra's voice cut through the haze of her thoughts, sharp and urgent. "Don't trust him, Carrie. He wants to use you. Just like your mother, just like everyone else. You are a tool to him, nothing more."
Carrie clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. She could feel the darkness rising inside her, a boiling rage that threatened to consume her, to unleash itself on Drake and Riot without hesitation.
Drake noticed the change in her, the subtle shift in her demeanor, and he took another step forward, his hands held up in a gesture of peace. "I understand your anger, Carrie. I know what it feels like to be used, to be betrayed. But I'm not your enemy. We can work together. We can change the world."
"Change the world?" Carrie echoed, her voice trembling with barely restrained emotion. "You want to destroy it."
Drake's expression hardened slightly, but he quickly masked it with a calm, almost paternal smile. "Not destroy. Transform. Humanity is on a path to extinction, Carrie. We're running out of time. But with your power, with Umbra, we can create something new. Something better."
Carrie felt the words pulling at her, tempting her with the possibility of finally having a purpose, of being more than just a girl with too much power and too little control. But then she remembered the blood, the fire, the screams of terror as she had unleashed her fury on Prom Night. She remembered the look in Eddie's eyes the last time she saw him, the way he had tried to protect her despite everything.
"No," Carrie whispered, shaking her head as tears began to stream down her face. "I won't do it. I won't be your monster."
Drake's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, a flash of irritation broke through his calm facade. "You don't have a choice, Carrie," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "If you don't help me willingly, then I'll make sure you have no other option."
He pressed a button and the sonic sound came, making her wince. The sudden high-pitched shriek from the sonic weapon hit Carrie like a physical blow. She crumpled to the floor, her hands flying to her ears as she tried to block out the deafening noise. The sound pierced through her skull, reverberating in every nerve, and she could feel Umbra writhing inside her, trying to hold on but faltering against the sonic onslaught.
"Stop it!" Carrie screamed, her voice barely audible over the screeching noise.
Drake stood there, unmoved, his expression cold and calculating. "This is just a fraction of the power I can wield, Carrie," he said, his voice cutting through the chaos. "I don't want to hurt you. But I will if that's what it takes to make you see reason."
Riot began to surface, its hulking form starting to ripple across Drake's body, its own growl mixing with the sonic assault. The creature's silver eyes gleamed with malevolent glee, eager to enforce Drake's will.
Carrie's body was trembling, her muscles locked in pain. She could feel Umbra's grip on her weakening, the bond they shared struggling to remain intact under the pressure. A part of her wanted to give in, to make the pain stop, to surrender and let whatever Drake and Riot had planned happen.
Then, Drake pressed the button and the sonic sound stopped, silence returning to the room. Carrie remained on the floor, panting heavily as the silence enveloped her like a cold blanket. Her ears rang, her head pounding from the aftereffects of the sonic attack. Umbra's presence inside her was faint, distant, like a flickering flame barely holding on. For a moment, she wasn't sure if they could continue—if she could withstand much more of this.
Drake stepped closer, his calm demeanor returning. He looked down at her with an almost paternal gaze, though the coldness in his eyes betrayed his true intentions. "You see now, Carrie? Resistance is pointless. You're too fragile to handle this on your own. But with my guidance, with Riot by my side and Umbra by yours, we can build something far greater than either of us could imagine. Together, we could be unstoppable."
Riot's hulking figure loomed behind him, silent and menacing, ready to strike. Carrie could feel its hunger, its desire for chaos and domination seeping through the air like poison. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding, her mind racing. She knew Drake was dangerous, far more dangerous than she had first realized. He wasn't just trying to control her—he was trying to reshape the world, and he was willing to destroy anyone who stood in his way.
She thought of Eddie and Venom, of how they had fought back, how they had protected her. And now, with Umbra, she wasn't just the frightened girl she used to be. She had power—terrible power, yes, but power that could be used for more than destruction.
"You're wrong, Drake," she said, her voice low but steady. She slowly pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the way her body ached from the sonic attack. "I don't need you. I don't need Riot. You're the one who's afraid. You're afraid of what I can do."
Drake's expression darkened, his lips thinning into a tight line. "You're playing a dangerous game, Carrie. You're out of your depth."
Carrie shook her head, a spark of defiance flaring in her chest. "No. You don't control me."
Umbra stirred inside her, weak but present, its voice a soft murmur in her mind. "We are stronger than them..."
"Fine, have it your way then," Drake said and stormed away from her.
As Drake stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoed in the cold, sterile chamber. The heavy door slammed shut behind him, leaving Carrie in the suffocating quiet of her containment cell. She remained standing, her body trembling from exhaustion, but her resolve was solidifying like steel.
Umbra's voice was still faint but there, pulsing like a low hum within her mind. "We need time to recover, Carrie, but when we do, we must strike. He will return—more ruthless, more desperate."
Carrie sank back against the glass wall, sliding to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to steady her breathing. The pain from the sonic attack still lingered, like a jagged shard stuck in her mind, but her thoughts were clearing. Drake had shown her his hand. He wanted control, power, and domination. But now, she understood something he hadn't anticipated: she wasn't powerless anymore. She wasn't just the scared girl from Prom.
"I don't know if I'm ready for this," she muttered aloud, her voice shaking.
"You are," Umbra replied with surprising calm. "You are stronger than you think. You've survived worse than Drake."
Carrie closed her eyes and tried to focus on the connection she shared with Umbra. It wasn't easy. Every time she reached for the power, she felt the temptation to unleash it all, to burn everything down around her like she had done at Prom. That darkness was still inside her, coiled and ready, waiting to devour anyone who stood in its way. But now, she had Umbra, and with the symbiote, she had something else: control.
She could feel Umbra's strength returning, slowly but surely. And with it, she felt her own confidence grow. "We'll stop him, won't we?" Carrie whispered.
"Yes," Umbra's voice promised. "But we must be smart. Drake will return with more force. Riot will not be easily beaten."
Carrie nodded, forcing herself to stand once more. Her legs were weak, but she locked her knees and straightened her back. She thought of many things, but it all came to one point: why was she the one to keep Umbra inside her? Was she chosen for it?
"If I tell you, will you be able to handle it?" Umbra asked cautiously, as if she was reading her thoughts. "Are you willing to listen?"
Carrie nodded, her curiosity overpowering her fear. "Just tell me what happened to you. How did you end up in my head?"
There was a moment of silence before Umbra finally spoke. "You're familiar with Knull, my father?" she began, and Carrie nodded in response. "He was engaged in a war with the Celestials and various other life forms in space."
Carrie's eyes widened, thinking about this dream - or vision - of Umbra dying in a battlefield in Venom's arms. But they were running from Riot after he attacked them. Yet she couldn't figure out if it was Riot or something else entirely.
"I remember," Carrie whispered, recalling the fragmented visions she had seen—the chaotic war, the raw destruction, and the chilling presence of Knull, the god of symbiotes. "But why me? Why did you come to Earth, to me?"
Umbra's voice softened, as if she was navigating painful memories. "I didn't choose you specifically, Carrie. It's a lot more complex than this. There was a rebellion among the symbiotes, a war to break free from Knull's control. Riot... he stayed loyal, but I... I wanted freedom, like Venom. I wanted to escape the endless cycle of domination and destruction."
"But how does this got something to do with me?" Carrie asked, sounded a little frustrated. "That's what I don't understand."
"Now, this is where it gets complicated," Umbra said. "I was weakening rapidly, getting closer to death. It was around that time where a ritual took place on Earth, beneath the Black Moon. I don't remember the specifics, but somehow, your mother was chosen. She became entwined in the web of fate, unknowingly playing a part in our story."
Carrie's denial surged forth, her voice laced with disbelief. "No, that can't be true! My mother is religious, yes, but she would never willingly involve herself in something like that. She would denounce it as a cult!"
Silence filled the room. Umbra's voice was gentle but firm, unyielding in the face of Carrie's protest. "Carrie, your mother may not have known the full extent of what was happening. But your father..." Umbra continued, "Your father was a key figure in the ritual. He had a part to play in it, whether by choice or by fate. The ritual was intended to summon something powerful, something ancient. When it succeeded, I found my way to Earth, to you. The connection was made—my essence bound with your being."
Carrie's mind whirled with this new revelation. Her father, her mother, a ritual beneath the Black Moon—it all seemed like an intricate web of destiny and darkness she had never fully understood. It made sense in a way, though it was hard to accept.
"But why me?" Carrie asked, her voice cracking under the weight of the truth. "Why was I the one chosen to bond with you?"
"It wasn't about choice, Carrie," Umbra explained. "It was about necessity. The ritual sought a vessel, someone with the potential to contain the power of an entity and harness it. You were that vessel, whether by chance or design. You were strong, even if you didn't realize it. And now, together, we have a chance to reshape this world."
Carrie felt a mixture of fear and determination rise within her. The knowledge that she was a part of something so much larger than herself was overwhelming. But it also ignited a fire in her, a resolve to fight against Drake and Riot, to use her powers for something other than destruction.
Drake's earlier words echoed in her mind, a haunting reminder of the peril they faced. Yet, she could also see the potential for a different path—one where she could use her abilities to protect and to make a difference, rather than to fall under the influence of those who sought to control and destroy.
"I need to find Eddie and Venom," Carrie said firmly, rising to her feet with renewed purpose. "They can help us fight back. They'll understand. They can help me control this power."
Umbra's presence within her was a reassuring force, a reminder that she wasn't alone in this struggle. "Agreed. We need to regain our strength and locate them. They are key allies in this fight."
As Carrie began to plan her next move, she felt a new sense of clarity. With Umbra's power and the potential help of Eddie and Venom, she could take a stand against Drake and Riot.
The room was still, the silence a stark contrast to the chaos she had just endured. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Carrie looked at the glass walls of her containment cell, envisioning her escape. She would need to be smart, to use every ounce of her power and cunning. The road ahead was fraught with danger, but she was no longer just a frightened girl in a dark closet. She was something more—something that had the potential to change the world.
And with that resolve, she started to formulate her plan, her mind already racing with strategies to free herself, to reunite with Eddie and Venom, and to take the fight to Drake and Riot. The world was on the brink of chaos, but Carrie was ready to face it head-on, with every ounce of her newfound strength and determination.
But before she could do anything, the door opened and footsteps approached her.
Shock took over her as Carrie recognized who had just walked in. "Estelle...?"
The sky was pitched black with no signs of stars or the moon anywhere, a thick veil of darkness that seemed to swallow the forest whole. Eddie trudged through the dense underbrush, his boots crunching on the fallen leaves and twigs beneath him. The cool night air bit at his skin, but the tension kept him alert. He could hear the steady rhythm of footsteps behind him—Treece and the three Life Foundation guards, their weapons trained on his back. They walked in silence, save for the occasional rustle of the wind through the trees, but Eddie could feel their eyes on him, their fingers poised on the triggers.
It was the same forest he had once sprinted through, heart pounding, with Carrie by his side. Back then, they were running for their lives, trying to escape from the chaos Drake had unleashed. Now, here he was again, walking calmly through the same woods, no longer fleeing but still a prisoner in a different sense. The twisted irony wasn't lost on him.
"Yeah, what you gonna do?" Eddie muttered, breaking the silence with a low, sarcastic tone. "You gonna walk me to death?"
Treece, visibly irritated by the comment, snapped back immediately, his voice sharp and filled with frustration. "Shut up!" The harshness of his tone cut through the night, hanging in the air like a threat unspoken.
Eddie sighed heavily, the weight of his situation pressing down on him. He came to an abrupt stop, no longer willing to keep up the charade of cooperating. What was the point of pretending he had a chance here? He was outnumbered, unarmed, and—most importantly—without Venom. His symbiote, the one thing that made him more than an average man, was silent, cut off somewhere in the Life Foundation's lab, leaving Eddie vulnerable and exposed.
Treece saw his hesitation and couldn't resist taunting him. "Not so tough without your friend, are you?" His voice was laced with smug satisfaction, the click of pistols cocking behind him punctuating the remark. The sound of guns being readied made Eddie's muscles tighten instinctively, but he didn't flinch. They were waiting for an excuse to shoot, to end this game of cat and mouse once and for all.
Eddie slowly turned to face them, his hands still raised in surrender but his expression defiant, a crooked smile playing on his lips. He looked Treece dead in the eye, unafraid. "Did your mama not love you?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock sympathy.
Treece's face contorted with anger. The remark hit deeper than Eddie had expected, and for a brief second, Eddie could see a flicker of something raw in Treece's eyes—a buried rage, maybe even pain. Treece's lips tightened into a thin line, and he raised his gun a fraction higher, the tension in his body coiling like a spring about to snap.
Treece whacked Eddie's face with his gun, knocking him to the ground.
"Damn it!" Eddie grunted.
"You think you're funny, Brock?" Treece growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think this is some kind of joke?"
Eddie's face winced at the pain, rubbing his nose. "No joke," he replied, rising from the ground. "You know, it doesn't matter if you kill me anyway, because there's something way bigger afoot in this world than you and me."
One of the guards shifted uneasily behind Treece, his eyes flicking between his boss and Eddie. The forest around them felt suffocating, the darkness pressing in from all sides, but Eddie's words hung in the air like a ticking bomb. Treece took a step closer, his gun now aimed directly at Eddie's chest.
Suddenly, one of the guards got pulled into the trees. Eddie spotted it and a little smirk was on his face, seemingly knowing what did it.
"Much bigger than me," he whispered as another guard disappeared into the trees in the same fashion. "And it's much, much bigger than you."
He chuckled as the third and last guard was gone, dragged into the tree. "Karma's a bitch."
"I don't believe in karma," Treece snarled, his grip on the gun tightening, but something spun him around.
A black creature threw its head forward and Treece's head completely disappeared into its mouth. It followed with a crunch and his headless body fell to the ground.
"Oh!" Eddie exclaimed, his eyes closing and opening and his body reacting. "Ooh!"
The creature stepped before Eddie, her form both familiar and alien. The glossy black skin rippled with the same oily fluidity as Venom's, but her body was leaner, more graceful. She moved with an unsettling elegance, her every step deliberate and predatory. The sleek curves of her body gave her an almost human shape, but her elongated limbs and sharp, menacing teeth reminded Eddie of just how far from human she truly was.
Eddie blinked, still trying to process what he was seeing. His brain scrambled to catch up with his instinctive reaction to the violence. "What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, eyes widening as he took in her appearance.
The creature smiled, revealing rows of jagged teeth that gleamed in the darkness. Her voice slithered out in a sultry, yet dangerous tone. "Hi, Eddie," she purred, her voice vibrating in the air like a low growl, both seductive and deadly.
"Whoa," Eddie exclaimed and the lady Venom picked him up from his top. "Whoa..."
The lady Venom crouched down and picked Eddie up, earning a "oh" from him. Then, the symbiote leaned her face forward and pressed her lips to his.
Eddie froze, his mind racing as the kiss caught him completely off guard. The slick, inky blackness of the symbiote was cold, almost electric, and he could feel it slithering against his skin. His initial shock began to wane, replaced by a strange, unsettling familiarity. This wasn't just any symbiote—there was something more here, something that felt both intimate and foreign at the same time.
Eddie hummed and moaned at the kiss as the sensation overwhelmed him. He could feel the symbiote's presence seeping into his thoughts, not like Venom's usual brash intrusion, but something more subtle, more enticing. The tendrils of the symbiote teased at the edges of his consciousness, whispering promises of power and connection that felt dangerously alluring. Eddie tried to pull back, but her grip on him tightened, the kiss deepening as the symbiote's influence coiled around his mind.
Then, he felt his body pushing away and his eyes fluttered open to see Anne standing there, taking in short breaths and looking at her surroundings. Seeing the headless body, she gasped softly.
"Oh, no," she whispered and looked at Eddie. "I just bit that guy's head off."
"I know, I know," Eddie replied, feeling the symbiote's presence inside him, an odd familiarity that he missed. "I've been there, too. It's not fun."
"The one with Drake is Riot," Venom's voice ringed in his head.
"I kinda figure that part out," Eddie said back, leaning forward, his hands resting on his knees.
"He's what you would call a team leader," Venom continued. "He has an arsenal of weapons."
"Drake's got his own symbiote. And he has Carrie too."
Anne's expression hardened at the mention of Carrie. She glanced at Eddie, a mixture of guilt and determination written across her face. "I know," she said, her voice tense. "But we're going to get her back. Estelle's already on it."
"Estelle?" Eddie straightened up, his brow furrowing. "The hell is she doing here?"
Anne nodded, catching her breath as the symbiote within her pulsed in tune with her rising emotions. "She's at the lab. She's trying to find Carrie while we deal with this."
"She doesn't know about Riot," Venom said. "He is unstoppable. He will tear her apart."
"Oh, great!" Eddie replied sarcastically.
"We have got to go!" the symbiote's voice roared.
"Where we going?" he muttered.
"Well, I'm coming with you," Anne said, joining in.
"No!" Venom's voice boomed. "It's going to get ugly."
"Well, she can fight ugly," Eddie argued back. "Trust me."
"Yeah, I can fight ugly," Anne agreed.
Venom emerged from Eddie's back, his height grew twice as large as his host, and his pupil-less white eyes stared down at Anne. "Not today," he said in his deep tone before running away from her.
"Oh, that's bullshit!" Anne shouted at them.
Venom bolted through the trees, his powerful legs propelling him forward in long, rapid strides. His sleek, black tendrils lashed out, cutting through the dense underbrush with ease as they sped deeper into the forest. Despite the intensity of the situation, Eddie couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration. Having Venom back felt like putting on armor—familiar and empowering, even if he knew what awaited them was anything but simple.
"Carrie," Eddie muttered, his thoughts racing through him. "She better be okay."
"She will be... if we hurry," Venom replied in his guttural tone, moving a lot faster. "And besides, she has Umbra, but Riot is no joke. He is far more dangerous than the others. You must be prepared."
"Yeah, well, I've taken on worse," Eddie quipped, though he knew Venom was right. Riot wasn't just another symbiote; he was a leader, someone who knew how to wield power—and Drake, with all his resources and twisted ambition, was probably using that power to its fullest extent.
They charged through the woods, Eddie's mind flashing back to Anne's words. Estelle was out there, trying to find Carrie in the Life Foundation's lab. The thought of Estelle, unarmed and unaware of Riot's presence, gnawed at him. She had no idea what she was walking into. But there was one thing that he bothered him. "We just left Annie."
"It is not safe for her," the symbiote explained. "If we do not stop Riot, he will come back here with millions more of my kind."
"Millions? What, you were gonna take the rocket, and you were gonna come back here with an invasion force? Then what were you gonna do, you were gonna go feed on a whole planet?"
"Yes! But it is different now, Eddie. I have decided to stay," Venom jumped on a tree and held onto a branch. "On my planet, I am kind of a loser, like you. But here, we could be more."
"Excuse me?" Eddie was caught off guard.
"And I'm getting to like it here," the symbiote admitted.
"Oh, you like us now, do you, huh?" the host asked.
Venom jumped from trees to trees until they broke through the treeline, the massive Life Foundation building looming ahead. The complex looked even more imposing in the pitch-black night, only its stark white lights cutting through the darkness. "However, there will be nothing left to like if we do not stop that rocket," he resumed.
"Oh, I see," Eddie said. "Right. When it comes to being completely annihilated, then it's back to 'we'."
"It is 'we'. Like it or not, it is going to take both of us."
"Hey, come on, man. Cut the bullshit. What really made you change your mind?"
Venom paused for a moment, perched on the branch of a tall tree, the wind rustling through the leaves around them. The symbiote's massive form seemed to ripple in the moonlight, its usually blunt tone now carrying a note of sincerity that surprised Eddie.
"You," Venom rumbled his answer. "And Carrie. You both did."
"Me and Carrie?" Eddie asked, incredulous. "Really? That's what did it?"
Venom swung from the tree, landing heavily on the forest floor, the ground beneath them trembling slightly from the impact.
"Yes," the symbiote confirmed. "You care for her. I can feel it. She is... important to you, much like how Umbra is important to me. Like Anne."
"Yeah, she's important," Eddie admitted quietly. "I've gotta get her back. We've gotta stop Drake."
"We will," Venom growled. "But we must act quickly. Riot's plan is already in motion. The rocket launch is imminent."
Venom surged forward, his massive legs carrying them swiftly across the open ground toward the Life Foundation.
"Carrie," Estelle said softly, her eyes scanning the room before resting on Carrie. There was a mixture of concern and determination in her gaze, the same look she had whenever Carrie had needed her most in the past. "I'm here to get you out."
Carrie felt a lump form in her throat, her emotions swirling between hope and doubt. "How... How did you find me? How are you here?" Her voice wavered, as if she couldn't believe that salvation could have arrived so unexpectedly.
Estelle stepped forward, her boots echoing on the floor, but her movements were measured and cautious. "I managed to pic-pocketed a security pass to this room."
Carrie stared in disbelief, her emotions a whirlwind of confusion, relief, and suspicion. Estelle was supposed to be gone, far away from the chaos that had taken over her life, yet here she was, standing before her in the flesh. There had to be a catch.
"Estelle, this place... it's dangerous. Why would you come here? You're putting yourself at risk." Carrie's voice was barely above a whisper, still hoarse from the sonic assault and the overwhelming strain of the past few days.
Estelle crouched down beside Carrie, her eyes soft but resolute. "Because I couldn't leave you to face this alone. You've been through enough already. I had to make sure you were okay." She glanced toward the door, as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment. "We don't have much time, Carrie. Drake will be back soon, and I don't think he'll be as patient as before."
Carrie swallowed hard. Estelle's presence was like a balm, a reminder of a simpler time, before the darkness, before Prom, before Umbra and the symbiotes. But she also knew Estelle had no idea what she was walking into.
"Estelle... there's so much you don't know. I'm not the same person you think I am." Carrie's voice cracked, the weight of her guilt heavy on her chest. "I'm dangerous now. Drake—he's after me because of what's inside me. Because of Umbra."
Estelle's eyes flickered with understanding, but she didn't flinch. "I don't care what they've done to you, Carrie. We'll figure it out together. Just like always. You're still you. Whatever's inside you, we'll find a way to get through it."
Carrie hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. She wanted to believe Estelle, to believe that there was still a way out of this that didn't involve destruction. But the darkness inside her, the power that Umbra had given her, was always there, ready to lash out.
"She's right, Carrie," Umbra's voice whispered inside her, quiet but firm. "You don't have to be alone in this. With allies, we stand a chance."
Before Carrie could respond, a loud thud echoed from down the hall, followed by the sharp bark of voices.
"They're coming," Estelle said, standing quickly and reaching into her jacket. She pulled out a small, sleek device—some kind of security bypass tool. "I got this off one of the guards. It'll disable the alarms and get us out of this room, but we have to move fast."
Carrie's heart pounded in her chest. Her mind raced, torn between fear and determination. Estelle's plan was reckless, and yet... it was the first real chance she'd had at escape since Drake had imprisoned her.
"Okay," Carrie said, rising to her feet, her legs still shaky. She clenched her fists, feeling the faint pulse of Umbra's power thrumming through her veins. "Let's go."
With a nod, Estelle approached the door, her fingers working quickly over the keypad. Carrie stood behind her, tension coiling in her gut as the seconds ticked by. Each sound from the hallway seemed louder, more ominous, the threat of discovery looming closer with every breath.
Finally, the door hissed open with a soft click. Estelle glanced over her shoulder at Carrie. "Ready?"
Carrie nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she steeled herself for whatever was waiting beyond the door. Together, they stepped into the corridor, the sterile lights above casting long shadows on the floor. The hallway was eerily quiet, but Carrie knew it wouldn't stay that way for long. Drake and Riot were out there somewhere, and she had no doubt they were hunting her.
"Stay close," Estelle whispered, her voice barely audible. "We're not out of this yet."
They moved swiftly, keeping to the shadows, their footsteps light and deliberate. As they rounded a corner, Carrie's heart leaped into her throat—two security guards were standing near the next door, their backs turned to them.
"Now or never," Estelle muttered under her breath, glancing at Carrie for confirmation.
Carrie could feel Umbra stirring inside her, its strength returning, ready to act. She met Estelle's gaze and gave a short nod.
In an instant, Carrie felt Umbra's power flare to life within her. With a subtle gesture of her hand, the shadows around them seemed to shift, bending toward the guards like living tendrils. Before either of them could react, the shadows enveloped them, muffling their cries and pulling them into unconsciousness.
Estelle looked back at Carrie, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear. "That was... I didn't know you could do that."
"Neither did I," Carrie admitted, her voice trembling slightly. She could still feel the pull of the darkness, the seductive allure of her powers. It scared her, how easily she had used them, but there was no time to dwell on it now.
They continued down the hallway, moving faster now. The building seemed to stretch on endlessly, each turn leading them deeper into the labyrinth of sterile corridors and locked doors. Carrie's heart pounded in her chest, fear gnawing at her with every step. Would they make it out before Drake found them? Would Eddie and Venom even be able to help?
Just as they neared the next door, a voice echoed down the hall behind them—a low, menacing growl that sent chills racing down Carrie's spine.
"Going somewhere?"
Carrie froze, her blood turning to ice as she recognized the voice. Riot.
Estelle grabbed her arm, pulling her forward. "Carrie, we have to move!"
But it was too late. Riot's hulking form materialized at the far end of the hallway, his silver pupil-less eyes gleaming with malevolent amusement. "You didn't think it would be that easy, did you? I warned you. You can't escape this. Not without paying the price."
Carrie's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing for a way out. They were trapped, caught between Riot's monstrous form and the locked door in front of them.
"Umbra, now!" she thought, reaching for the entity's power with everything she had.
But before she could act, Estelle stepped in front of her, shielding Carrie with her own body.
"Go!" Estelle shouted, her voice filled with raw determination. "I'll hold him off. Get out of here, Carrie!"
"No!" Carrie cried, reaching for Estelle, but she was already moving, sprinting toward Drake and Riot with reckless abandon.
The sound of a metallic pierce echoed and a sudden burst of human flesh erupted. Carrie's breath caught in her throat, her mind screaming at her to move, to fight, to do something—anything—but she was frozen in place, terror and shock paralyzing her.
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roe-oo · 4 months ago
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my piece for @trafficzine ❤️
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thecranewivesrpf · 11 months ago
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is this anything
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honeybeebuddy · 3 months ago
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comms / tips the au's tag
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tiredfoxtf · 5 months ago
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The blind leading the blind.
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tibby-art · 1 year ago
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i dont have consistent designs shh
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dangans-ur-ronpas · 5 months ago
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happy pride month
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prokopetz · 6 months ago
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While I was going through my old school papers today, I found one of those trick quizzes that high school teachers who think they're terribly clever like to hand out – you know, the ones with a long, complicated series of instructions where the first instruction is "read all instructions in full before following any instruction other than this one", and the final instruction is "disregard all instructions other than first instruction and this one", and you lose a point for each preceding instruction you actually carried out – and now I desperately need to come up with an in-universe rationale for an SCP Foundation containment procedure article to be structured that way.
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eat-applez · 1 year ago
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Fictional universe: And there was this COMPANY,,,,
Me: Oh they did some messed up shit didn’t they
EDIT: anyone who says “also in real life!!” or smth like that just know it’s been done 700 times.
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ryuucae · 6 months ago
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otselotus · 1 year ago
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//trafficshipping a bit
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umbra-by-jacqui-natla · 4 months ago
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Chapter Twenty Seven
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"Yeah, I'm scanning her face now... No fucking way, that's Carrie White!... Yeah, it's her, Drake. We got a special one here... Drake's gonna want to see this."
Drake was in utter disbelief as he processed the shocking news Diego had shared with him sixty minutes ago. Against all odds, they had stumbled upon Carrie White, the infamous figure responsible for the haunting events of the Black Prom in Chamberlain many years ago. The world believed she had perished, but here she was, alive and accompanied by Eddie Brock. To make matters even more intriguing, they possessed something that belonged to Drake. This discovery was undeniably extraordinary, and Drake knew he had to witness it firsthand.
He couldn't shake the feeling of disbelief as he replayed the conversation in his mind. Carrie White, the girl with telekinetic powers who had caused so much destruction and chaos, was alive and well. And not only that, but she was with Eddie Brock, a man who nearly exposed his plan during the interview six months ago.
Drake knew he had to see this for himself. He had to know what they were up to, and why they had something that belonged to him. The implications of this discovery were immense, and he couldn't afford to ignore it.
As he was pacing back and forth in the Life Foundation lab, his mind raced with questions. What were they planning? How had Carrie White survived all these years? And most importantly, what else was she capable of?
Drake knew that whatever was about to unfold would change everything. And he was determined to be there to witness it all.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Drake turned around to see nothing or no one.
Drake turned around, his heart pounding in his chest, only to find an empty hallway. Confused, he cautiously took a few steps forward, his senses on high alert. The anticipation was palpable as he wondered who or what could be lurking in the shadows.
"Hello?" he called out but there was no response.
Drake's mind raced with possibilities. Was it a prank? Or perhaps an intruder? He couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being watched. Every tap of the marble floor echoed through the corridor, intensifying his unease. The dimly lit hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, its eerie silence amplifying his anxiety. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he strained to hear any sound that would confirm his suspicions.
As he turned a corner, his eyes widened in astonishment. There, standing before him, was a young blonde girl with two red bows adorning her hair. She wore a black dress with white polka dots and a white blouse underneath.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, kneeling. "Are you lost?"
The girl's smile sent shivers down his spine as her eyes turned a ghostly white. "I'm not lost," she replied, her voice sending chills down his spine as she reached out to him.
Drake's world spun as the girl's eyes bore into his soul. Fear and curiosity warred within him as he struggled to comprehend the situation. The grip on his neck tightened, and he felt a coldness seep into his bones. Desperation clawed at his mind as he searched for a way to escape this nightmare.
Then, a dark, slimy substance oozed from the girl's body, revealing a creature from another world. It slithered towards him, and Drake's eyes turned white as he realized the true horror of the situation. The creature, with its grotesque form and writhing tentacles, seemed to defy all laws of nature. Drake's heart raced as he stumbled backward, his mind struggling to comprehend the abomination before him. The stench of decay filled the air, making him gag as he fought to keep his composure.
The young girl collapsed to the ground as the creature fully emerged from her body. Drake knelt beside her, desperately searching for a pulse, but found none. His eyes widened as he realized the girl's innocence had been consumed by the darkness that now possessed him.
Then, the dark grey slimy substance emerged from his back and it formed a face.
Drake's muscles tensed involuntarily as the creature from another world made its presence known. The substance, a sentient mass of tendrils and malice, shaped itself into a grotesque visage that leered at him from behind his shoulder. Drake could feel its consciousness pressing against his own, probing, testing the limits of his sanity.
"Carlton Drake," it hissed, the voice a blend of his own thoughts and the entity's sinister intentions. "I am Riot."
Drake's breath hitched, his mind a chaotic storm of fear and confusion. He struggled to maintain his sense of self as the entity's influence seeped deeper into his psyche. Venom's presence was overpowering, a relentless force that threatened to consume him entirely.
"No," Drake whispered, his voice a strained plea. "This can't be happening."
Riot's face twisted into a mocking grin. "You wanted power, didn't you? You sought to control, to dominate. Now, you have a taste of true power."
Drake's thoughts were a tangled mess. He remembered his ambitions, the lengths he had gone to achieve them, and the sacrifices he had made. But this—this was beyond anything he had ever imagined. He could feel Riot's influence tightening its grip, each second slipping further from his control. The symbiote's malevolent presence was like a vice, squeezing out his resistance and warping his perceptions.
"You're mine now," Riot sneered, its voice echoing in Drake's mind, a blend of contempt and satisfaction.
Drake's body trembled as he fought to reclaim some semblance of autonomy. Images of his past—his achievements, his vision for the future—flashed before his eyes, but they were quickly overshadowed by the raw, primal urges Riot injected into his consciousness.
In the midst of this internal struggle, a sudden, unexpected surge of clarity broke through. Drake latched onto it, summoning every ounce of his willpower. He focused on his purpose, on the mission he had dedicated his life to. With a monumental effort, he forced out a single, coherent thought.
"Why are you here?" Drake managed to ask, his voice a mere whisper.
Riot's grin widened, its tendrils tightening their hold. "You and I share a common goal," it said, its voice dripping with dark promise. "Together, we can achieve greatness beyond your wildest dreams. But first, there are... obstacles."
Drake's mind raced, piecing together Riot's cryptic words. The symbiote sought collaboration, but its definition of partnership was clearly one-sided. Despite his fear, a spark of his old ambition flared within him. If he could harness this power, bend it to his will...
"What do you need from me?" he asked, his voice steadier now, though still laced with underlying dread.
Riot's eyes gleamed with triumph. "I need you to lead. With my power and your intellect, we can reclaim what's ours. Eddie Brock and Carrie White... they have something we need. Something that belongs to us."
Drake's thoughts aligned with Riot's, a reluctant acceptance forming in the recesses of his mind. The memories of Eddie and Carrie surfaced, and with them, a sense of urgency. Whatever they had, it was crucial—both to Riot and to himself.
"Then we find them," Drake declared, his resolve hardening. "And we take back what's ours."
Riot's approval was a palpable force, invigorating Drake with a renewed sense of purpose. He felt the symbiote's power coursing through him, amplifying his senses, strengthening his body. Together, they moved with newfound determination, a singular entity driven by a shared goal.
As they navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the Life Foundation, Drake's mind sharpened, plotting their next moves. He couldn't shake the memory of the girl's lifeless body, a grim reminder of the cost of his alliance with Riot. But he pushed it aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.
Eddie Brock and Carrie White were out there, and they held the key to everything. With Riot by his side, Drake was determined to confront them, to seize what was rightfully his. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but he welcomed it, fueled by a dark, symbiotic hunger for power and revenge.
Together, they would change everything.
But then, Drake's momentum faltered as Dr. Emerson appeared in the hallway, his expression a mixture of urgency and concern. He approached cautiously, his eyes blinking rapidly as he walked toward Drake.
"Drake," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "what is going on? The lab is in chaos. Reports are coming in about strange occurrences, and people are getting hurt."
"Reports?" Drake replied, hiding the fact that a symbiote was in him as of now. "Strange occurrences? Who has been hurt?"
Dr. Emerson pressed his lips together, worry aching his face. "Do... Dr. Skirth... She has been found dead."
Drake's face remained a mask of control, but inside, Riot's dark amusement simmered. He knew what had happened to Dr. Skirth—he had ensured her silence.
"Dead? How?" Drake asked, pretending to be in shock.
"Her body was found in her lab, torn apart," Dr. Emerson said, his voice shaking. "It looks like... like she was..."
"Show me!" He half-shouted. "Now!"
Dr. Emerson flinched at Drake's sudden outburst but quickly nodded, leading the way through the dimly lit corridors. The tension in the air was palpable, with every step echoing ominously against the sterile walls of the Life Foundation. Drake's mind was a storm of thoughts and Riot's insistent presence, prodding him with dark whispers of power and revolution.
As they approached the crime scene, another scientist were there, silently weeping. The door to the lab slid open with a hiss, revealing a scene of unfortunate incident.
Dr Skirth's body lay sprawled across the floor, her skin getting paler. She was still in her lab coat and her black hair, despite being tied up in a ponytail, was messy and her glasses were nowhere to be seen. What was more gruesome about the scene was that the dark blue slimy substance was attached to her lifeless body and it spread out onto the floor. It was as much dead as Dr. Skirth.
Drake stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the lifeless body of Dr. Skirth. He felt a surge of conflicting emotions— revulsion at the brutality of the scene, and a grim satisfaction that another potential threat to his plans had been eliminated. Riot's presence thrummed with approval, feeding off his dark thoughts.
Dr. Emerson's face was ashen as he struggled to comprehend the horror before him. "This.., this is madness," he stammered. "How could this have happened?"
Drake turned to the scientists, his dark eyes cold and calculating. "Where were you when it left Dr. Skirth's body?" He asked Dr. Emerson, his voice steady.
Dr. Emerson trembled under Drake's intense gaze, struggling to find his voice. Knowing he wouldn't get an answer, Drake turned to the other scientist. "Where was he?"
The other scientist, Dr. Loring, glanced nervously between Drake and Dr. Emerson. "He... He was in his office. We were running diagnostics on the symbiote when we heard the alarm."
Drake's mind raced, Riot whispering insidious thoughts of betrayal and sabotage. "And what did you see when you arrived here?"
Dr. Loring swallowed hard, her eyes wide with fear. "It was already too late. Dr. Skirth was... gone, and the symbiote... It was like it had died along with her."
Drake knelt by Dr. Skirth's body, examining the dark blue substance. It was indeed lifeless, a stark contrast to the living, pulsing entity that now resided within him. Riot's voice echoed in his mind, a chilling reminder of their shared power.
"Weak," it hissed. "Not like us."
Drake stood, turning his attention back to the two scientists. "This is the higher life-form. You stood by and watched while it died."
Dr. Emerson and Dr. Loring exchanged uneasy glances, their fear palpable in the sterile, clinical atmosphere of the lab. They were both seasoned scientists, but the events unfolding around them were beyond their comprehension and control.
"Dr. Skirth's death is a significant loss," Drake continued, his tone measured yet unyielding. "But we cannot let this setback derail our mission. We must remain focused, vigilant, and, above all, united."
Dr. Emerson nodded slowly, still trying to process everything. "What... what do we do now, Dr. Drake?"
Drake's eyes, darkened with resolve, met Emerson's. "We adapt. We learn from this. Strengthen our security protocols, increase surveillance, and ensure that the remaining symbiotes are secured. No more mistakes."
Riot's presence pulsed approvingly within Drake, reinforcing his newfound determination. "And find Eddie Brock and Carrie White," the symbiote's voice resonated in his mind, its hunger for dominance and retribution clear. "They hold the key to our next move."
Drake nodded subtly to himself, his mind already strategizing the next steps. He turned to Dr. Loring, his voice taking on a tone of quiet command. "Prepare a full report on Dr. Skirth's findings and any data we have on the symbiotes. I want it on my desk within the hour. And get me all information on Brock and White's last known locations. We need to move quickly."
Dr. Loring, eager to prove her loyalty and competence, hurried off to comply. Dr. Emerson lingered, still visibly shaken. "Sir, are you sure we can control this? What happened to Skirth—"
"—Was a tragic but necessary lesson," Drake interjected, his gaze unwavering. "We will not make the same mistake twice. Trust in our mission, Emerson. We are on the verge of something monumental."
As Dr. Emerson nodded reluctantly and left, Drake felt Riot's satisfaction coursing through him. Alone again, Drake allowed himself a moment to absorb the gravity of the situation. He had bound himself to a formidable, alien power, one that demanded control and dominance.
But he also knew that with Riot's power, he could achieve what he had always dreamed of: a world transformed by his vision. And Eddie Brock and Carrie White were the keys to unlocking that future.
Determined and resolute, Drake exited the lab, his mind already calculating the moves ahead. He knew the risks were immense, but so were the potential rewards. With Riot by his side, he would confront Eddie and Carrie, reclaim what was his, and reshape the future in his image.
"The arrogance," Drake then muttered under his breath.
As he continued to walk through the corridor, he spotted Treece and the other two guards approached him. But before he could say anything, Drake pointed at him.
"Treece, listen to me," Drake said in a dangerously soft tone with a tint of growl to it. "After this, we can't risk killing Brock, not until we find another suitable host. I don't want to see you again unless you have Brock!"
"And the White girl?" Treece asked.
Drake's eyes darkened as he considered the implications of Carrie's presence. Riot's influence whispered temptations of power and control, fueling his determination.
"Carrie White is a special case," Drake replied, his voice cold and calculated. "Her abilities could be invaluable to us. Capture her alive if possible, but do not underestimate her. She must be handled with extreme caution."
Treece nodded, his face set with grim determination. "Understood. We'll get them both."
Drake watched as Treece and the guards moved with purpose, his own thoughts a turbulent mix of ambition and fear. Riot's presence thrummed within him, a constant reminder of the dangerous alliance he had forged.
***
Anne's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she navigated the familiar route home. The city lights blurred past her, a tapestry of colors and movement that she barely registered. Her mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions.
On one hand, she was furious. Eddie Brock had been nothing but trouble for her, ever since their breakup. His reckless behavior, his obsession with uncovering the truth no matter the cost, had left her career in shambles. Now, thanks to him, she was stuck working as a freelance lawyer under a law firm that didn't fully appreciate her talents.
But on the other hand, there was the incident at the restaurant. The memory of Eddie's tired eyes, the panic in his voice as he tried to explain the inexplicable, gnawed at her. He had always been intense, but this was different. It was as if something had broken inside him, something beyond his control.
She couldn't help but replay the events in her head. Eddie had shown up at the restaurant, looking disheveled and out of sorts. He had babbled about something that made no sense, something about Carlton Drake and the Life Foundation. At first, she had thought he was joking, or maybe he had finally lost it. But the fear in his eyes was real. It was palpable.
Anne's thoughts shifted to Carrie, Eddie's young neighbor. The neighbor was as equally concerned for Eddie as she was, and Anne felt sorry for Carrie, for getting caught in the crossfire of Eddie's turbulent life. It seemed that Eddie had already taken Carrie under his wing, almost like a little sister. Despite his flaws, Eddie had always had a soft spot for the vulnerable, and Carrie was no exception. Anne couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. She had always admired that part of Eddie, the part that cared deeply for others even when his own life was falling apart.
The memory of Carrie's wide-eyed innocence tugged at her heart. She knew that whatever was happening to Eddie, it was affecting Carrie too. Anne had seen the fear in the girl's eyes, the way she clung to Eddie as if he was her lifeline. It made Anne's anger seem trivial in comparison. She could be furious with Eddie all she wanted, but she couldn't ignore the fact that he needed help. More importantly, Carrie needed stability, something Eddie was struggling to provide.
Anne sighed deeply, her grip on the steering wheel loosening slightly. She hated feeling torn like this, but she knew she had to do something. She couldn't just stand by and watch Eddie spiral further out of control. She had to confront him, get to the bottom of whatever was happening, if not for him, then for Carrie's sake.
Her phone buzzed, startling her. She glanced at the screen and saw her current boyfriend's name on the screen: Dan. He was probably wondering how long she will be. She pressed the green icon.
"Hey, babe. I'm almost home," Anne said, assuring her boyfriend.
"Where's Eddie?" Dan's voice sounded worried.
"Why? What's happening?"
This was getting Anne even more worried.
"I got Eddie's labs back, and it's worse than I thought. His systems, renal, endocrine, they're behaving abnormally. I've never seen anything like it."
"What does that mean, Dan? What are you telling me?"
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and Anne could hear Dan exhale deeply. She braced herself for the worst, clutching the steering wheel with renewed tension.
"Anne, it means Eddie's body is undergoing changes that shouldn't be possible," Dan said finally. "I don't have a full explanation yet, but it looks like his body is rejecting something—something foreign. We need to get him to a hospital immediately."
Anne's heart sank. Her mind raced through the possibilities. What could Eddie have gotten himself into? She thought back to his frantic ramblings about Carlton Drake and the Life Foundation. Was it possible Eddie had uncovered something more sinister than a simple corporate scandal? And if so, how deeply was he involved?
"Alright, I'll find him," Anne said, her voice steady but urgent. "I'll bring him in."
"Be careful, Anne. If his condition is as serious as it seems, there's no telling how he might react," Dan warned.
"I will. Thanks, Dan," she replied, ending the call and accelerating towards Eddie's apartment.
Anne let out a sigh and found Eddie's name in her contact. She immediately pressed it and allowed it to ring.
"Eddie Brock here. Leave a message."
Anne's frustration mounted as she listened to Eddie's voicemail greeting. She ended the call without leaving a message and drove faster, weaving through traffic with determined precision. The city lights reflected her turbulent emotions, a cacophony of colors mirroring her internal chaos. She had to find Eddie, and she had to find him now.
The drive to Eddie's apartment felt interminable, but she finally arrived and parked hastily. She got out of her car, her heart pounding in her chest. But as she ran to his apartment, Anne could hear sirens blaring and saw people gathering around, outside his apartment. Getting closer, she could make out indistinct police radio chattering.
"Officer, what's happening?" Anne asked. "I need to get in there. It's my friend's apartment."
"Building's been evacuated," the officer replied. "It's not safe for you to be here, ma'am."
"Found another one, Bill," a female police officer shouted.
"Get off the streets," the officer said, walking away. "Go home. There's bodies all over the city tonight."
"Bodies?" Anne whispered.
Her heart pounded even harder. Eddie, she thought. She had to get to Eddie, but how? “Eddie, where are you?” She whispered to herself.
"Carrie, please pick up," a distressed woman whispered.
Anne's head whipped around at the sound of the woman's voice. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail, her face worn out and her blue eyes were tired.
She walked up to the woman. "You're okay?"
The woman stood her head. "No..."
"What's your name?"
"Estelle Horan."
"Estelle, what happened?" Anne asked, trying to keep her voice calm despite the anxiety that was bubbling inside her.
Estelle looked around nervously, her eyes darting between the police officers and the crowd. "I was just heading out for some grocery shopping and I came back to this. I just hope that Carrie—."
She stopped herself from finishing her sentence. She didn't want to give too much away. She didn't want to talk about Carrie to Anne. "I just hope she's not in there."
"Don't worry, I'm sure she's okay," Anne pulled her into an hug and Estelle just broke down into tears. She kept holding on to the crying woman and kept telling her the same thing: she was sure that Carrie was okay.
But it was Estelle's response that caught her attention. "Not again. Not again. Why did I do this to myself, knowing what happened in... Not again."
Anne's heart sank as she listened to Estelle's frantic sobs. The woman's cryptic words suggested a connection to Carrie that went beyond mere acquaintance. It was clear that Estelle was hiding something, but now wasn't the time to press her for answers.
"Estelle, listen to me," Anne said softly but firmly, pulling back to look her in the eye. "Go to the apartment and find anything that could help us. We're going to find Carrie and Eddie. Find something that will help us, okay?"
Estelle nodded weakly, tears streaming down her face. Anne gave her a reassuring squeeze before turning her attention back to the chaotic scene in front of Eddie's apartment building. The police presence was heavy, and the growing crowd only added to the confusion as Estelle was granted access to her apartment but under the circumstances she will allow to pack her bags and find herself a place to stay.
She needed to think. If Eddie and Carrie weren't in the apartment, where would they go? Anne wracked her brain, trying to recall any hints Eddie might have dropped about his plans. Her mind flashed back to their last conversation, the urgency in his voice, the mention of the Life Foundation. Could he have gone there? And could he
As she walked upstairs, Estelle unlocked her door and entered her apartment. She went into Carrie's room, thinking she might be hiding something. At first, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary until she spotted Carrie's journal on her desk. Estelle gave it to her as a way of writing down her emotions and even something that happened on a day.
She picked up her journal and started reading. Mostly just about Carrie thinking about Chamberlain and what she did and how she felt guilty for it. Then, Estelle spotted an entry about Carrie sneaking into the Life Foundation when Eddie was interviewing Drake. How did Estelle not spotted her?
But that wasn't the shocking part. It was poem Carrie had written down. She read it in her head, her eyes following the cryptic words.
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"What the hell...?" Estelle whispered to herself.
The words etched in Carrie's journal sent chills down Estelle's spine. The poem's ominous tone and cryptic references were unnerving, hinting at a deeper, darker connection to the symbiotes and the Life Foundation. Estelle couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just a random piece of writing; it felt like a warning, or perhaps a premonition.
"Carrie, what have you gotten yourself into?" Estelle muttered, her mind racing.
Estelle carefully tucked the journal into her bag. If Carrie had discovered something significant, something related to Drake and the Life Foundation, it could be the key to finding her and Eddie. But the more Estelle thought about it, the more she realized she needed help. She couldn't do this alone.
Leaving her apartment, Estelle hurried back downstairs, scanning the crowd for Anne. She spotted her near a police officer, still trying to get more information. As Estelle approached, Anne turned and saw the look of urgency on her face.
"Anne, I found something," Estelle said, her voice trembling. "Carrie's journal... it has some strange entries about the Life Foundation. And this poem... it feels like it means something."
Anne took the journal from Estelle, quickly flipping through the pages until she found the poem. Her eyes widened as she read the cryptic verses.
"This is... disturbing," Anne said, her mind piecing together the clues. "Carrie must have discovered something important. And if she's with Eddie, they might both be in danger."
"What's our next move?" Estelle asked, her anxiety palpable.
Anne took a deep breath, trying to think clearly. "We need to get to the Life Foundation. If Eddie and Carrie are there, they could be in serious trouble. We have to move quickly."
Estelle nodded, her resolve hardening. Together, they hurried back to Anne's car, determined to find Eddie and Carrie before it was too late. As they sped through the city streets, Anne's mind raced with thoughts of what they might uncover at the Life Foundation.
Suddenly, Estelle's phone vibrated and she took her phone out. She saw a text message from Carrie, giving her mixed feelings of relief and dread.
𝗖𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲
𝘏𝘦𝘺, 𝘌𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰
𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦.
𝘞𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵
𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦.
Estelle's heart skipped a beat as she read Carrie's message. Relief washed over her, knowing that Carrie was safe for the moment. But her relief was tinged with worry about what exactly Carrie and Eddie were dealing with at Eddie's old workplace.
Anne glanced over at Estelle, sensing the shift in her emotions. "What does she say?”
Estelle quickly composed herself, reading the message aloud. Anne nodded thoughtfully, her mind racing with possibilities.
"Eddie's old job... That must mean they're at the MNBN building," Anne said, piecing together the puzzle. "It makes sense. Eddie must be there to show actual proof to his boss, something related to Drake and the Life Foundation."
Estelle nodded in agreement, her thoughts still reeling. "We have to go there. We need to find them before anything else happens."
Anne nodded decisively, turning the car in the direction of the MNBN building. As they drove, Estelle couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in her mind. Carrie's mention of sorting something out at Eddie's old workplace hinted at a deeper involvement in whatever Eddie had uncovered.
Link to Chapter Twenty Eight
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mossfeathers · 18 days ago
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bigb's method of approaching alliances in the life series is genuinely fascinating. he decides to establish a base and solid gear before making any teams, usually going until the second or third session until he actually joins an alliance. even when teamed, he'll live at his own place and treat everything like it's about to explode, keeping his allies a few feet away from him at all times. teammates are always lowest on his list of priorities for some inexplicable reason. he'll rat out his team's schemes for no reason other than the bit completely unprompted. then wonder why things go haywire. i dont think he knows it's supposed to be a social game. what a man.
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the-hipster-nugget · 3 months ago
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HEART FOUNDATION BIGB
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aroaceleovaldez · 3 months ago
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i am once again thinking about Percy and Annabeth and their respective relationships with their step-parents, particularly how the other views the other's dynamic with their step-parents.
Because there's a really interesting subtle thing that we see which is when Annabeth talks about her step-mom to Percy, Percy's assumption is that Annabeth's step-mom is like Gabe. He just presumes that because that's what's familiar with him and based on his own experiences he assumes their situations are similar.
But then when Percy actually meets Annabeth's step-mom (and her dad) he realizes their situations aren't at all the same. He was expecting another Gabe, but instead he just found a genuinely caring family that was just struggling to find their footing with one another.
The interesting thing is that this implies an inverse - especially with what we know about how Percy and Annabeth describe their experiences. Percy doesn't really talk about Gabe ever. To anyone. Grover knows the whole picture there but he's basically the only one of Percy's friends who does. As far as we know, unless Grover told her at some point, Annabeth doesn't know about Gabe. She knows he was a jerk, but Percy out loud doesn't ever really get into details about it. She knows they didn't get along and eventually Gabe disappeared and Percy basically never spoke of it again. Presumably, Annabeth thinks Percy's dynamic with Gabe was like her dynamic with her step-mom, like how Percy had thought their situations were the same. Especially given we know Percy assumed their situations were the same and likely spoke about it as such if it ever came up.
Like. That's such an interesting tiny aspect of their dynamic that never gets touched upon. Annabeth likely doesn't know about this very core traumatic experience Percy endured before they met because she's operating under the assumption that their family just was a little rocky like hers was.
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seawaveleo · 1 year ago
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heart foundation sketch before appointment
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