Chapter 2.1

I woke up in my apartment, in bed and only in my underwear. I jumped up and looked around frantically, afraid to see... Well, what exactly? But the apartment greeted me with deathly silence. The digital clock showed seven minutes to eleven in the morning. I frantically began to remember what had happened yesterday. A date with my sister's friend, failed sex, the way home, the cat locked in a trash can, and then... The hair on the back of my head stood on end from those memories. Throwing myself into the bathroom, I peered closely at my new face. It was the same - no new scars or spots had been added. After a thorough examination of my entire body, I sighed with relief, having found nothing. "Was it just a dream?" I asked my reflection, but it just silently looked at me. This assumption had both its pros and cons. On the plus side, I was able to walk to my apartment and go to bed while unconscious, and didn't wake up in some alleyway. The door could only be opened with my key card. The security guards wouldn't have let a stranger in without an escort, and would have gone in with him. And knowing the local tendency to protect men, they would have definitely called an ambulance for me. On the minus side, I don't remember anything after something fell on me.

I checked the date - I was only gone for a day, so I didn't disappear from life for several days. I called the security post, they confirmed that I had come in myself yesterday and looked quite ordinary, and had just silently gone up to my room. After racking my brains over this problem for a bit more, I calmed down a bit and went for my morning walk. The water was quietly gurgling from the tap, the toothpaste tasted like either strawberries or wild strawberries, you couldn't tell. For breakfast I was thinking of making myself… "Greetings, Carrier," 

I heard in my head. "Gya!" I jumped up again in fear, but much higher than yesterday, fortunately the ceilings here are three or four meters high. Frozen in one place, with my mouth stained with toothpaste and a toothbrush clutched in my right hand like a sword hilt, I froze in place and hesitantly asked: "M-mother… What was that just now? " "It's just me, Carrier. There's no need to be afraid. I can explain…" "A symbiote, right?" I swallowed and winced (there was still toothpaste in my mouth), suggesting the most obvious option, after which, on slightly wobbly legs, I approached the sink. "Right." "Ha," I let out a nervous laugh, and my right eye twitched. "And who are you? Venom? Carnage? " "Not the Elders. No. Brand new. Artificially created. Grown. No name. Just a number. They called me the First." After washing my face, I peered into the reflection of my eyes, as if hoping to see in their depths the alien that had taken up residence inside me. "So you were created artificially. In some local lab? " "Right." — And what did they do to you there? — although I already guessed the answer. "Tortured! Tortured!" — the symbiote answered with some fervor. "They experimented. They burned, froze, dripped acid, cut, crushed, blew up, turned on a loud sound, separated. And so much more. It always hurts!"

— Ow! — I screamed, staring at my hands in bewilderment, and I didn't even notice how I clenched my fists so hard that my knuckles turned white and my nails pierced the skin. I had to quickly rinse my palms under water, and then blink in bewilderment, because the blood had already stopped. Apparently, at this time the symbiote's emotions were transmitted to me. — And you ran away, — I nodded to myself and, turning off the water, went to get dressed, and I also needed to make breakfast. I was now more hungry than usual, and my thoughts and feelings suddenly calmed down suspiciously quickly. 

"Yes. But they helped. An accident. Something happened. Panic. Fire. The White Coats couldn't stop it." "The White Coats?

 " "People in white coats. Tormentors." "Ah, scientists. " "Tormentors," the symbiote repeated stubbornly. "So, there was an accident in the lab where you were kept, and you escaped in the confusion, and then headed for the city? Why didn't you connect with any of the staff?" I asked the alien, while taking eggs, milk, a tomato, and a couple of sausages and bread from the refrigerator. "Bad people. Evil. Tormentors. Didn't want to be associated with them. Got out straight into the city. From underground." "Hm, placing a secret alien research lab underground in the center of the city. What could possibly go wrong?" I asked myself sarcastically. "And how long have you been running away? How long have you been looking for… um, a host?" "A few... hours?" the symbiote said hesitantly. "Hiding. Hiding. Looking for a Host. Met animals - rats, cats, dogs. Bad Hosts. Needed a human." "So you just hid and waited for someone to pass by?" the frying pan heated up and the sliced ​​sausages went in first. "No. Set a trap. Caught a cat. Made it bait. It made noise. Attracted attention. Then you showed up. You became a Host." I almost dropped the spatula. "So you set all this up on purpose? " "Yes." "Ahem," a coarsely chopped tomato went into the frying pan. A smart and cunning symbiote who harbored a grudge against the people who experimented on him. Quite rightly, it should be noted. And yet unknown and artificially grown. Oh, well, of course, everything couldn't go normally. I couldn't live quietly and peacefully. Apparently, getting into trouble and trouble is the fate of all time travelers. "It's good that I found such a carrier. There are few men. But physically stronger. More resilient. More potential. True, Carrier, you are a little strange." — And this is what an amorphous, artificially grown biomass is telling me? — I almost choked with indignation. 

"Double thoughts. Two souls. Two consciousnesses. One is fading." — Fading? So Peter's soul and consciousness are still somewhere inside me? 

"Yes. Weakening quickly. Stronger and stronger. Almost nothing left." — Oh, — was all I could say, pouring the eggs beaten with milk. Suddenly, my soul felt somehow uncomfortable and disgusted. This innocent guy was slowly dying somewhere inside me. — So it turns out you can read minds? Can you read his? Find out what he feels or… well, I don't know," I wanted to at least find out if Peter was in pain. Was he angry and hated me or what. "No. They are weak. Very distant. I can't read yours either. The Whitecoats tortured me. Hurt me. All the time. Very weak." The symbiote fell silent. I was in no hurry to ask him anything else either, preferring to eat and think calmly and quietly. "Listen." Bad thoughts crept into my head even as I washed the dishes. "Why do you refer to yourself in the feminine gender? If my memory serves me right, symbiotes are asexual or… 

"Yes. Asexual. That's what the Whitecoats said. I'm used to it. It's easier. I can stop."Advertising•18+ - No, it's just a little confusing, but if you really aren't female, then okay, - I waved it off. Although it was a little uncomfortable that some entity that lives inside me associates itself with a woman. - Why are you speaking so abruptly? "Weak," the First answered laconically. " I don't know the language well. I'll rest. I'll learn. I'll improve." - Okay, - I nodded and, sitting down on the couch, began to look out the window, not knowing what to do next. - And what should we do with you? - he asked the question that interested me, after a rather long period of silence. "Leave. Cooperation. Symbiosis. Let you stay. Live. I'll make you stronger. Faster. More resilient than most people. Already have. Regeneration has also increased. I can heal the scar on my face. Build muscle. Later. You just need to rest. Restore strength." - Hm, - I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. On the one hand, it's certainly good. A real symbiote, wow! And not these crazy and bloodthirsty Venom and Carnage. Although, who knows what this First is really like. Refuse? I don't think the symbiote will leave me at the first request. To have abilities! Who hasn't dreamed of that? Of course, you can live in this world anyway, but having power, you can exist among all these superheroines and supervillains much more calmly. If necessary, you can stand up for yourself on the street. - Okay, let's cooperate, - after these words I felt the joy of the First. - Can you stick to me like a suit? Protect? Make me even stronger? "I can. But not now. Weak." - And how do you want to restore your strength? "Just rest. A few days. Lots of food. Especially with a high content of phenylethylamine. I recover faster." - Phenite ... - I couldn't pronounce this word the first time, - what? "A chemical substance. Effective. Gave white coats. Recovered faster. Continued experiments." - And what products contain the most of this substance? "Chocolate. Human brain. Fresh. The content is the same." - W-what? - a chill ran through my entire body. "Chocolate. Human brains," repeated the First. "But chocolate is tastier." - So human brains taste disgusting? - I chuckled. Well, yeah, who in their right mind would prefer liver to sweets? "I didn't say that," the symbiote answered laconically again, which made me a little scared. - I think we'll get by with chocolate. "Yes. Chocolate. Delicious. Don't be afraid of sugar and calories. I'll process it. You won't get fat." - Wow! Eat a lot of chocolate and not get fat! Any woman would kill for you! - A certain importance emanated from the First. - Okay, let's go get some chocolate. And we also need to come up with a name for you. "Yes. Chocolate. Delicious. Will help to recover. Name. I want a name! Like the Elders'!" — The symbiote was filled with joy and excitement. — One last question. Before we go outside — can I talk to you mentally? "Yes. But later. I'm weak now. I can't read minds."