Blackest Shadows [OPEN] Mar 6, 2013 19:11:56 GMT -5
Post by venom on Mar 6, 2013 19:11:56 GMT -5
It started as a funny feeling; like someone was there, watching when you were all alone. No, not someone. Something. Something that didn't belong there - a presence that seemed to travel cell to cell, cage to cage. Most men just expected the worst - it was the spooks, paranoia kicking in; to simplify it all, they were superstitious. Then again, they had every right to be - this was Arkham, an asylum that housed the criminally insane - many men had died in particularly unpleasant circumstances. It was no wonder that the air felt..dank. That the rooms felt like they were being constantly invaded by another world. It made it all the more tragic, really, as they put off the odd feeling, they were actually right.
The death rate had taken a significant rise - men and women, guards and in mate alike seeming to die of starvation, dehydration, suffocation, blood loss and other important fluids vacating their system - they just turned up like corpses left for several months, but without the decay. It was putting everyone in edge; was it a killer? A disease? A virus or a parasite? In truth, it was all of those things, and so, so much more. But they would never know - not until it was too late; Venom was taking it's time in revealing itself.
Everyone seemed to assume the symbiotes as unintelligent and brash, but it couldn't be said for the alien in black. Venom was feeding, going from one host to another, leaving them unaware that there was any kind of problem, simply using them for nourishment. His strength was growing steadily - all the alien wanted was to control it's own fate. And the fate of mankind, of course. Not that it would be a struggle - the extra-terrestrial was working from man to man, host to host, simply draining them of everything that might be important.
Not a single one was worthy - none of them, as far as it was concerned, deserved to have any kind of sync with it; they were just food, canon fodder for the bigger, badder world - but what good would all that be if it couldn't find a suitable host? Well, in reality, there was no fitting host. These were humans, fragile, weak, scrawny beings of existence who failed to produce even the emotional needs for the symbiote to thrive. For that reason, it was taking their very life from them, adding the years to it's strength as it prepared for what was outside.
And what, of everything out there, held it's attention so dear? Why, Spiderman, of course. Venom hated the web slinger - despised him, even. To reject the alien, cast him aside to Eddie Brock, who only did it again. Host after host, none worthy to really keep possession of the symbiote, and every last one ruined - cowards, weaklings, argumentative, unwilling to bend to the will of the symbiote, or properly interact with it. The alien had the choice of who it remain stuck with, and as things stood, it lacked anyone in specific.
Instead, Venom was going to host hop until, eventually, it would be powerful enough to really control the world in some way or another. No more hiding in the shadows, no more ghost style approach, leaving the host completely unaware - it was now simply waiting for the right opportunity, the perfect moment, to finally expose itself first of all, to the asylum, and then the world it lived. The new world it lived. And what an interesting plane of existence it was looking to be; bright lights, new cities, new places, and thousands of unsuspecting prey waiting to fall victim to the jaws of a hungry Venom. He was going to eat his way through ,mankind.