Ok, so I have actually seen Venom now and it's so damn good. If you haven't seen it already, I suggest you do. The story may be a little longer now as I have quite a bit more inspiration and I'm not just going off a couple of trailers. Thank you to everyone for reading this. Love you all! Xox

"This morning the residents of Hallow Street awoke to the cut throat corpse of who has recently been identified as Andrew Hurley. He was found hanging from a tree in his front garden at five am. His neighbour..."

We're famous. All over the news. Everyone can see that he's got what he deserved. Venom couldn't hide the glee in his tone and Mikey could tell.

"You make me sick." He said.

"What police have found remarkable is that there is no sign of a forced entry or a break in. Almost as if the victim let his killer in..." the reporter continued but Mikey switched it off. He didn't want to know. The memories made him want to hurl.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. His whole life was fucked over and nothing could change it. He was a murderer and a monster. Nothing could change that either.

His skin was burning. He could feel the flames lick his skin, climbing higher and higher until his entire body was engulfed in the amber heat. His flesh was melting and dripping off his bones.

But these weren't ordinary flames. No amount of fire could cause this much pain. These were tongues of words, caressing his arms with burning hatred. They burrowed through his stomach to his organs, swimming in his bloodstream. His body had been taken over with self-loathing and regret, eating him internally.

He couldn't escape himself.

You're weak. You're dying. You're pathetic.

"THEN WHAT DO YOU STILL WANT ME FOR?" Mikey couldn't help the scream that tore out of his mouth. Everything had been too much. He wanted to punch someone, he wanted to burn someone, he wanted to kill someone, he wanted to scream more; he fell to the floor and started to cry.

It's ok to feel weak, it's ok to freak, it's ok to break. Sometimes the weakest people are the strongest. Sometimes the people who fight the hardest win the most. You've been through it all, you've felt the pain, you've walked out alive. You've got this.

And Mikey smiled, knowing it wasn't the creature having a change of heart, but the person it consumed speaking from the heart.

"Thanks Pete."

He felt the smile from inside.

-

Once again, Joe found himself outside his best friends house. The blood had dried, turning the branches and leaves below a crisp, reddish brown. Police caution tape flew in the breeze causing a harsh, ripping sound as the fabric moved.

No words were left to be said. Everything had been spewed out at the television prior to his arrival, and now there was only anger. A deep, roaring hatred. There was venom on his tongue and by tonight, his hands would feel the warmth of bloody revenge.

Andy had never been the strongest of the four. His personality was what brought him down. He was too trusting. People constantly took advantage of him or just forgot him altogether. Andy was quite quiet too.

With one last look at the folorn looking tree, rid of Andy's remains, Joe stuck his hands in his pockets and walked into the welcoming embrace of the warm house. There was a lot of cleaning up to do.

-

Through the gloom and dark, a soft blue glow emitted from within. It lit up a pale and slightly nervous face as it glanced down at the screen.

23:46

Mikey gulped audibly and squeezed his eyes shut. The screen went black, removing the smiling picture of a beautiful, blonde woman.

Edging further forwards, out of the darkness and into the glowing orange hue, Mikey stopped. With his back against the wall and two loud voices arguing in his head, his grip tightened on the cold metal in his hand. It was heavier than imagined when Mikey had first picked it up but now he had grown accustomed to the weight - accustomed to the guilt the weapon would bring.

It's now or never.

"I know. Just let me think. I'm still adjusting to this." Mikey sighed. As much as he had started to enjoy the adrenaline rush, he didn't know if be would ever get over knowing he had to take someone's life.

"It isn't as easy as you think." Mikey said.

Tell me what you have to do.

This was a new thing. The creature had started asking him what to do. To check he fully understood. When faced with questions like these, Mikey feared it was becoming less about revenge and more of an initiation. Like the parasite was trying to mould and shape and create him.

From his current position, Mikey was unable to get an exact position on where the target actually was but he had an idea. Three windows had lights turned on and the blonde could feel vibrations through the brickwork.

He pressed his palms against the wall and closed his eyes. "He's in the living room." Mikey concluded at last.

Move in.

"But he's still awake." Mikey frowned; this wasn't normal. Everyone was always asleep to make it easier. Less screaming. From the depths of his chest, the blonde could feel It grin.

Yes. He is. This is the next phase: take them down while they're kicking and screaming.

"You're fucking evil."

You've only just noticed?

With a low growl, Mikey pushed himself away from the wall and stormed up to the front door. He knew the target would put up a fight. That was all part of the fun.

Lips curved up in a sly smirk and tight fist raised, Mikey knocked on the wooden door. No answer. He knocked again.

A sigh. Footsteps. A creak.

"Who are y-" A sentence finished with a fist to the face. Joe stumbled backwards, his hands clasped to his face. Crimson spurted onto the floor. Mikey grinned and stepped over the threshold with the oak door swinging shut behind him.

A threatening growl emitted from inside the bleeding man. "Who the fuck are you?" Joe snarled. Mikey booted Joe in the stomach, sending him flying across the hallway. The brunette landed in a ball on the laminated floor, letting out a string of curse words in the process.

"Shut it." Joe fell silent. Mikey's tone was malicious and his voice was low.

Rip him apart.

"How?"

Tear him to shreds!

"I have no weapons and no strength." The tall blonde rolled his eyes, his shadow falling over the confused and broken man on the floor. "Who are you talking t-"

"I said shut it!" Mikey yelled, one finger held threateningly in the tension filled air.

I am your strength. Just reach down and I'll take over from there.

Beneath the fluxating monster, Joe squirmed in a puddle of scarlet red. He attempted to wriggle away while the taller man battled his inner demons but he didn't get away unnoticed. Mikey slammed his foot down on Joe's leg. He relished in the cracking of healthy bones as they snapped clean in two.

Fragments and splinters punctured the bruised skin, piercing the flesh and bursting through, exposing the gleaming white beneath. A river of red quickly followed suite.

"You ain't going nowhere." With a sudden surge of power, the blonde grabbed the screaming man by the collar and flung him through the ceiling. On springy legs he followed Joe up through the hole, landing in a cat-like stance.

Joe's eyes were wide in fear and blood was leaking from all orifices. What was supposed to be a quiet, revenge planning evening had unexpectedly turned into his vengeful demise.

Now, glowing greedy eyes were turned upon him and Joe felt like a deer in headlights. "Hmm. I can already hear the rip of your tendons as it your head detaches itself from your neck." They were not Mikey's words. They were borrowed from the parasite within although the words felt familiar and tasted sweet as they rolled off his tongue.

It seemed the brunette had quickly accepted his fate, squeezing his eyes shut as Mikey prowled towards him.

Although there was one thing Joe couldn't quiet let go of. He didn't have time to say goodbye. Andy was gone and he would be next.

"Any last words?" Mikey grinned. He was feeling generous. "Will I see him again?" Joe asked with a shaky voice.

The taller man sighed. "See who?"

"Andy. You know, the one you brutally murdered yesterday." Joe narrowed his eyes at his executioner.

Mikey shrugged. "I don't know man. When I give a fuck, I'll tell you." Without letting the trembling man reply, Mikey wove his fingers into Joe's hair and tugged.

Tendrils of veins and a fountain of blood flooded from the pale, separate, man's head. On parted lips lingered the last plead of a dying man.

Wait.

Disgusted, Mikey let the head drop. It rolled to meet the fallen carcass, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

"What was his name?"

Why do you want to know?

"What was his name." Mikey repeated.

Why does it matter? It's over, let's g-

"WHAT WAS HIS FUCKING NAME!"

Joe. A calmer voice replied. His name was Joe.

Mikey nodded and slowly turned on his heel.

Death came for him. Who will be next? Tick tock, Mikey. Tick. Tock.

A/N I am so, so sorry it's taken me this long to write and produce and post anything but school and mental health are the biggest and most stressful parts of my life and make everyday a living Hell :). Anyways, hope y'all are ok and still interested in my bs ❤

Edit: I failed my English Lit test todayyyyyy. Got my Language on Monday which, hopefully, will go well.

Fucking kill me now.