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It took Evan several minutes to stop dry-heaving.
When he finally managed to breathe again, he discovered standing up was its own problem.
His stomach was round and tight from the impossible amount of meat Venom had forced into it.
He had to brace a hand against his lower back just to walk.
“You…
you…”
The woman behind the counter stared at him, pale as paper and trembling from head to toe.
That was fair.
She had just watched a teenage boy turn into a monster and eat three men.
Evan gave her the weakest smile of his life and limped toward the counter.
“Ma’am, please don’t panic.
They were bad people.
You’re not.
I’m not going to hurt you.”
He kept his voice low, careful, and very human.
“Please don’t tell anyone what happened here.
Okay?”
The store owner was still terrified, but the softness in his voice seemed to help.
After a moment, she nodded stiffly.
Evan did not push his luck.
He turned toward the door.
“Wait.”
He looked back.
The woman reached behind the counter, grabbed two small boxes from a shelf, and hurried over.
One was antacid tablets.
The other was a pack of mint gum.
Evan stared at them, then laughed under his breath despite the pain.
“Thanks.”
“Try stretching later,” she said, already reaching for a mop.
“Might help.”
He looked at her for one more second, then left.
His rented room was not far, but walking there took almost an hour.
Every step made his stomach shift in ways it absolutely should not have.
By the time he climbed the stairs to the second floor and reached for his key, someone came jogging up behind him.
“Hey, Ev.
You made it back.”
Evan’s brow twitched.
Then he turned and gave the boy a warm smile.
“Hey, Peter.
Coming back from work?”
Peter Parker stood on the stairs with a backpack over one shoulder and the kind of tired kindness that made Evan feel guilty just looking at him.
Yes, that Peter Parker.
The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
Evan had no idea why Peter, who should have been in New York, was living in San Francisco.
Stranger still, when Evan rented this cheap room, he had discovered that Peter lived right across the hall.
They shared the second floor.
Door facing door.
Even weirder, Peter had been good to him from the start.
On the first day, Peter had helped him settle in.
Half the clothes in Evan’s room had come from Peter’s closet.
On paper, Evan Reed was a runaway with nothing but the ruined clothes he had woken up in.
Peter saw that and gave him what he could.
The clothes were used.
Evan did not care.
Runaways did not get picky.
Over the last few days, he had learned that Peter was in college, Uncle Ben was gone, and Aunt May was retired.
Tuition and rent were both Peter’s problem now, so he studied, worked, and still found time to help a near stranger.
“You haven’t eaten, right?” Peter said, pulling a small box from his bag.
“I brought pizza.”
The smell of roasted meat drifted out as soon as the box opened.
Evan’s mind flashed straight back to Venom chewing through three symbiotes.
His stomach rebelled.
He shoved the door open, bolted for the bathroom, and threw up before he could say a word.
It took more than ten minutes to stop.
By the end, he was limp beside the toilet, head hanging, breath ragged.
Knock, knock, knock.
Peter appeared at the bathroom door with two tablets and a glass of water.
“Food poisoning?” he asked.
“Take these.
They helped me after a buffet tried to kill me once.”
Evan looked up at him, surprised, then accepted the pills and water.
“Come on.
Bed.”
Peter helped him up, got him onto the mattress, and left only after making sure he was still breathing like a normal person.
Lying down helped.
Maybe the medicine worked.
Maybe Venom’s digestion finally caught up.
Either way, the pressure in Evan’s stomach began to fade.
Then heat bloomed under his skin.
It came fast, huge and suffocating, like he had been dropped into boiling water.
“Venom.
What is happening?”
“Not great,” Venom said.
“I ate three symbiotes.
The life force healed most of my injuries, but there is still too much left.
It’s backing up inside you like floodwater looking for a way out.”
“Plain English.”
“Your body is mutating.
Probably not fatal.
Probably.
Ride it out.”
“Damn it.”
Evan curled around the pain, bit down on the blanket, and one absurd thought cut through the panic.
‘In a sci-fi world, the rich get tech.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter.