Stray Dog
Fear.
Confusion.
Desperation.
Hunger.
Anarchy couldn't tell where his thoughts began and where his host's thoughts, a sickly cat that had half of her fur missing, ended. How long had he been hopping hosts? How hard was it to find a stable host who's body didn't reject him? How long did he have left before the lack of proper symbiosis began to chip away at his already weakened state? Was he going to die here, on this strange planet where he knew nothing and no one? Was he going to die in one of his many sorry excuses for hosts, or was he going to die in between trying to swap hosts? He didn't know, and he was terrified.
He wasn't the strongest. He wasn't the smartest. He wasn't even that violent. He was a runt back on that hellhole planet Klyntar, and everyone knew it and took advantage of it. He was constantly bullied, pushed around, having what little resources he already had to begin with stolen away from him. Frankly, he was astonished he managed to live for so long, even with his horrible luck. That horrible luck continued when he somehow (he didn't even know how it had happened) got stuck on a meteor and, for what could have been days or years, was flung around space. His time on that rock ended when he was picked up by the strangest creatures he had ever seen, "humans", in what appeared to be a large, floating castle he heard them call a "spaceship". They took him from the rock and stuck him in a small cylindrical container where they stored him in a dark room for another unknown period of time until they came back into the room and took the container, carrying it off the spaceship and into a blindingly white structure he swore he heard them call a "lab". The person who was carrying the containment chamber spoke about how there had been other of his kind, the Symbiotes, in the lab before, but it had been a long while since they had gotten a new subject in. Just then, something happened to the human that was carrying his chamber (maybe it was another human startling him?) and he dropped it, causing the lid on the top of the chamber to burst open. Anarchy took the chance and booked it, taking over a nearby woman who looked terrified, and ran as fast as he could.
From there, Anarchy hopped from host to host, not knowing or caring where he was going. Sometimes his host would be a small animal, other times it would be humans. But no matter who or what he bonded with, nothing seemed to accept him. He could feel the deterioration of his host, he could feel their body shutting down. Anarchy knew he could have used the host until it died, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. Instead, he'd remove himself when he estimated the host would have one day left to live if he continued to be bonded with them, and hoped that they somehow survived. It wasn't the best, but it was better than letting them outright die. At least, that's what he told himself.
But each hop, each second gone by without a proper host, he felt his own form lose power. He was weak, he was sick, he was sure he would die soon. Despite all of that, there was a tug inside of him that made him keep going. Maybe it was just his basic survival instincts, or maybe it was drawn from all of the memories he had seen when he bonded with humans. He had seen them in so many helpless situations, but still they persisted and found a way to make the best of their situation. He admired them for it, even if they were still very strange. But he didn't know if he could go on, not in this already half dead animal he was in. So when he saw a large, shaggy dog from across the street from where he was, he "counted his lucky stars" as he heard the humans say and unbonded from the cat and trudged his way to the dog. When he took over the dog, memories of a family came to him. The eldest male, what humans would call a father, had apparently purchased the dog for his tiny offspring for a human holiday. The two offspring were in love, but none of the family unit seemed to be able to take care of the dog, so they simply stuck it outside one day and never let it back in. For a reason Anarchy couldn't entirely understand, he was repulsed by the family.
Within the grim memories Anarchy sifted through, he found one that could be of use to him: at this time of night, not far from where he was now at a very tall building, a man came back from somewhere riding a two wheeled vehicle. He was very kind, and he would give the dog food. Anarchy decided that he'd wait for the man to arrive, and at the very least, he could bond with him. Humans tended to be a more stable bond than animals.
Anarchy didn't have to wait long, as he heard a rumbling engine that the dog that he was bonded to instinctively perked up to. In the dimly lit parking lot he was sitting in, the man with the two wheeled vehicle drove up and parked between two white lines that were painted onto the concrete (though Anarchy noticed that he was a bit off center and skewed towards the left more). He got off of his strange vehicle and took off a black dome that was covering his head and set it on the seat of his vehicle and stretched, letting out a sigh. Anarchy made his move and trotted over to him, cocking his head. The man smiled and slung off a pack that was on his back and knelt down to Anarchy.
"Hey Trooper, back again, huh? Sorry I don't have much today, I was pretty hungry, but I saved you some of the ham from my sandwich."
From the pack the man produced a smaller, clear container and opened it, holding out a few pieces of sliced ham to Anarchy. Despite his hunger, Anarchy did his best to gently take the ham from the man before wolfing it down and licking what taste was left on his lips. Anarchy looked back up to the man, and he was struck with an odd feeling.
This man was...what were the human words? Handsome? Pretty? Beautiful? He didn't know, but he did know he enjoyed looking at this human very much. His hair was long, long enough to reach his mid back, and it was a gorgeous shade of orange that reminded Anarchy of a sunset he had once seen on his very first nights on this planet. His eyes were bright blue, and splattered across his cheeks were what Anarchy believed humans called "freckles". It didn't matter what they were called, they were nice to look at. This man was nice to look at. There was a small piece of shiny metal that was pinned to the black vest he wore over a white, long sleeved shirt.
Elliot
Elliot. That must be this man's name. Elliot.
Elliot smiled at Anarchy and let out a small laugh that made Anarchy feel that same strange way again as Elliot reached his hands out to scratch behind Anarchy and his dog host's shared ears.
"Oh, Trooper, I'm so sorry. You know I'd take you in in a heartbeat if my landlord wasn't so strict with pets. So I guess this'll just have to work for now, huh? I had a long day today, and I'm pretty tired, but tomorrow is my off day! Maybe I'll go out to the store and get you some actual dog food. You please be safe tonight, alright?"
Elliot got up and took both his pack and his black dome and walked out of the parking lot, leaving Anarchy sitting alone with the strange feeling still lingering inside of him.
I have to follow him.
Anarchy shot himself out of the dog, leaving it looking around in mild confusion before it lumbered away. Anarchy did his best to follow the Elliot man without drawing attention to himself, because he quickly learned that on Earth, a shapeless pile of black and yellow goop roaming around wasn't seen as normal or something humans took kindly too. He stuck to the shadows and hid under furniture when he could, following Elliot up two flights of stairs until Elliot finally reached a door at the end of a hallway full of other doors and inserted a small metal item into it, which he turned and walked inside. Anarchy slipped under the door and kept following Elliot through small rooms until he got to one that had what he learned was a "bed", something humans slept on, and flopped onto it face first. Anarchy watched him for a while before realizing he had fallen asleep, his shoes still on, and he quietly slithered towards him. When Anarchy reached the still and sleeping figure of Elliot, he paused. Did he really want to bond with Elliot? What if something went wrong? What if he accidently killed Elliot? He didn't know if he could go on knowing that he snuffed out a life that seemed so full of happiness.
I don't have a choice.
Anarchy stretched upwards and latched on to Elliot's shoe, then hauled his near liquid form up and onto Elliot. He slowly sank into the sleeping man as he had done countless times before with others, and he braced himself for the almost painful feeling of his host's body rejecting him...
But it never happened.
Elliot's body didn't put up its' immune system at the intrusion he caused.
Elliot's body didn't try to reject him in the form of vomiting like some hosts did.
Elliot's body accepted Anarchy as if the Symbiote was made for him.
Elliot was now Anarchy's host.