Chapter 7
The diner was buzzing with late afternoon chatter, plates clinking, waitresses weaving between tables with practiced ease.
Miles spotted Gwen instantly — slumped in the corner booth, hoodie pulled up over her head like she was trying to disappear.
His chest tightened.
She looked worse than last time.
Pale.
Sunken eyes.
Like she hadn’t slept in a week.
But when she noticed him, she smiled.
It was small. Fragile. But real.
"Hey, loser," Gwen said hoarsely, sliding over to make room.
Miles grinned and dropped into the booth.
"You look like death."
"Thanks," Gwen snorted, voice rasping like she’d been screaming or crying or both.
"Exactly the compliment I needed today."
Miles softened. "Seriously though… you okay?"
Gwen shrugged, yanking the menu closer to hide her face.
"Yeah. Just… allergies. Or a flu. Y'know. No big deal."
Miles didn’t buy it.
Not for a second.
But he didn’t call her out, either.
Instead, he bumped her shoulder with his, gentle.
"You better not get me sick," he teased, trying to lift the mood.
Gwen smiled again — a little brighter this time — and Miles’ heart squeezed.
They ordered quickly.
Burgers, fries, milkshakes — the usual.
And when the food came, Gwen attacked it.
Miles froze, blinking as he watched her.
She was eating like she hadn’t seen food in days.
Faster than humanly possible — bites too big, chewing too fast, gulping it all down like she was racing a clock only she could hear.
Her hands shook, just a little.
Her eyes — glassy and frantic — darted around like she was waiting for someone to rip it away from her.
Miles swallowed thickly.
He picked at his fries, pretending not to stare, pretending everything was normal.
But something was wrong.
Really wrong.
Gwen finally slowed down — licking ketchup off her thumb absentmindedly — and caught him watching.
She stiffened.
"What?" she said, trying for playful but landing somewhere around brittle.
Miles forced a smile.
"Nothing. Just… man. Remind me never to steal your fries."
Gwen barked out a laugh — short and sharp — and dropped her half-eaten burger onto the plate.
For a second, her hand twitched toward it again — like she couldn’t help herself — but she yanked it back under the table.
Miles didn’t push.
Didn’t ask the hundred questions burning in his gut.
He just leaned back against the booth and tossed a fry at her forehead.
She ducked, giggling.
And for a few precious seconds, it almost felt normal.
Almost.
When they finally left the diner, the sun had dipped low enough to turn the sky a bruised purple.
Gwen stuffed her hands deep into her hoodie pockets, keeping her head down.
Miles walked beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed every few steps.
Neither of them spoke.
But Gwen thought — maybe — if she tried hard enough, she could pretend.
Pretend she wasn’t dying inside.
Pretend she wasn’t hiding a monster under her skin.
Pretend Miles couldn’t smell the blood on her breath.
"You are doing well," Venom purred in her mind.
"He suspects nothing."
Gwen bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted iron.
She wanted to believe it.
Needed to believe it.
Because if Miles found out the truth —
If he looked at her like she was something to be afraid of —
She didn’t know if she could survive it.
Not this time.
Miles' phone buzzed, vibrating frantically against the diner table.
He glanced at it, cursed under his breath.
"Gwen, I'm so sorry — I gotta go. Something… something came up."
Gwen tried not to flinch.
Tried not to show how her gut twisted.
How her skin crawled.
How the hunger gnawed inside her chest like a living thing.
Of course he had to leave.
He always did.
She forced a shaky smile. "Go. It's fine."
Miles hesitated — like he didn’t want to leave — but after a second, he nodded, backing away.
The diner’s door swung shut behind Miles, leaving Gwen alone at the sticky table.
The emptiness hit her like a punch to the gut.
She stared down at her fries, the congealed burger, the grease shining on the paper plate.
The hunger clawed at her ribs.
Sharp.
Brutal.
Maddening.
"We are starving," Venom whispered, gentle as a lullaby.
"We will wither if you keep denying us."
Gwen’s hands shook.
She bolted from the booth, nearly knocking over the chair, and stumbled out into the cold night air.
Her vision swam.
Lights blurred.
Voices echoed strange and hollow.
She staggered around the corner into an alley. Dark, wet, and reeking of rot.
A shape darted across the trash-strewn ground.
A rat.
Gwen’s breath hitched —
her body moving before she could even think.
Claws unfurled from her fingers — slick, black, and gleaming.
Her muscles coiled and pounced.
In a blink, she caught the rat in both hands, claws pinning it tight.
It squealed.
Kicked.
Bit.
And Gwen — without hesitation — bit into it.
Hot blood exploded over her tongue.
The rat spasmed once — twice —then went still.
Gwen dropped it, gasping, blood smearing her chin.
The hunger —finally, finally —dulled.
Relief poured through her.
Sharp. Violent. Shameful.
"Good girl," Venom purred inside her mind.
Gwen stumbled back, wiping her mouth with a trembling hand — tears springing hot to her eyes.
She didn’t even hear the thump behind her not until a voice rang out.
"—Hey!"
She whirled, heart leaping into her throat.
Spider-Man stood at the mouth of the alley.
Silhouetted against the streetlights —bright costume sharp and vivid against the dark city.
He wasn’t Miles Morales to her.
He was a stranger.
And to him — Gwen wasn’t Gwen.
She was a hunched, trembling figure.
Blood dripping from her mouth.
Something monstrous half-hidden in the dark.
The symbiote reacted instinctively — shooting slick black tendrils up her spine and across her face, forming a crude, glistening mask.
No mouth.
No eyes.
Just smooth black horror.
Spider-Man tensed, half-lifting his hands.
"Hey, whatever you’re doing — just chill, okay?"
His voice was careful.
Measured.
Gwen backed up a step then another.
The mask clung to her, thick and suffocating.
Her breath rasped in her ears.
"Run," Venom hissed.
Panic took over.
She dropped to all fours and sprinted — scaling the alley wall like it was nothing, claws digging into the brick.
She fled over the rooftops, her heart hammering.
Spider-Man stared after her — stunned.
He shook himself. Fired a web and chased after the creature he thought was just another villain.
A new threat.
A new monster loose in his city.
The night air cut cold against Gwen’s skin as she tore across the rooftops.
The city blurred beneath her feet.
Streets and windows spinning past like a fever dream.
Behind her — the sharp thwip of webs.
The steady thud of someone chasing.
She didn’t dare look back.
"Faster," Venom hissed, gleeful in her mind.
"We can lose him. We can rip him apart if we need to."
No! Gwen shoved the thought away.
She didn’t want to fight Spider-Man.
She just wanted to get away — to breathe.
But then — a web caught her ankle mid-leap.
Gwen yelped as she crashed onto the rooftop, skidding hard enough to tear skin from her palms except the symbiote thickened and cushioned her on impact.
In the next heartbeat, Spider-Man landed between her and freedom.
"Whatever you are," he panted, hands raised, "you need to stop. Now."
His mask hid his expression but his stance was wary, coiled for a fight.
Gwen pushed herself to her knees, chest heaving.
"Please," she rasped but the Venom mask warped her voice into a low, distorted growl.
Spider-Man stiffened.
"Listen—" she tried again, staggering upright, hands open in surrender.
He fired another web — fast, practiced — snagging her wrists together.
Instinct screamed in her body.
Before Gwen could think, the symbiote reacted.
The black mass exploded from her arms, shredding the webs like paper.
Gwen flinched backward, terror rising.
"This is a misunderstanding!" she gasped but again, the Venom-voice twisted her words into something monstrous.
Spider-Man lunged.
She ducked under his swing without thinking, spun and kicked off the rooftop, only to have him snag her midair with another webline.
They crashed onto the next roof in a tangle of limbs and snarling black tendrils.
Spider-Man pinned her down — struggling to wrestle her hands behind her back.
Gwen writhed — Venom's strength making her feel wild, slippery, unstoppable.
"Fight," Venom urged, purring.
"He will hurt us. He will cage us. We must survive."
"No," Gwen sobbed. Fighting herself more than him.
"I'm not your enemy!"
Spider-Man grunted, struggling to hold onto her but the black suit surged, tendrils whipping around him, forcing him back.
Gwen shoved him off, scrambling away.
Spider-Man flipped to his feet, chest heaving.
"You’re not leaving!" he snapped.
A new web shot toward her — but Gwen slashed it apart midair with a swipe of her claws.
She hesitated — heart breaking in her chest.
If she stayed — he would never believe her.
If she fought back harder — she’d become the monster he already saw her as.
Tears blurred her vision.
"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered. The words thick and wrong inside the Venom mask.
Then, spinning on her heel. Gwen leapt from the rooftop, disappearing into the shadows of the city.
Spider-Man stood there, web-shooters trembling slightly, watching the spot where the "monster" vanished.
His heart twisted.
Something about the way she ran, the way she spoke, had been...wrong.
Not like the villains he knew.
More like someone scared out of their mind.
But he shook the thought away, jaw tightening.
He had to find out what — who — that thing was.
Before it was too late.