Dionaea Muscipula
Nearly a week had painstakingly passed since your stunt at the hardware store. The only evidence that it had occurred at all was a small blurb published on the NYPD’s Twitter account. With no impending threat of being arrested, you continued settling into your new life.
You now had a fully furnished apartment, a somewhat regular schedule, and an obscenely expensive police scanner set up on your small kitchen table.
It had been a learning curve figuring out where the city needed you. You were trailing a step behind when it came to any local crimes, arriving too late to catch anyone. Many times you ended up watching uselessly as the police took control of the situation. It had quickly become equal parts frustrating as worrisome as you and Venom went from peckish to starving.
You knew with experience that hunger greatly lowered your inhibitions and oftentimes led you to bend your code of ethics. Meaning, a proper meal was needed before you found yourself gnawing on some random person's skull.
On the kitchen table beside the scanner lay the local paper. A few mornings ago, as you ate your tower of chocolate chip pancakes, you read the news of a serial rapist plaguing the city. Jumping at the chance to rid the world of evil you began investigating.
The article criticized that New York’s finest had been failing to stop the string of sexual assaults occurring throughout the city. The limited information made known to the public was that women were grabbed while on the subway and then later dragged off to a secluded area. One of the victims was quoted, stating that all she remembered was that her attacker was tall and had cut her with a pocket knife.
With the vague specifics on what occurred during the actual attacks, you were assured that you’d be doing the city a public service.
Every attack had started in the subway but the location varied throughout the city. After cross checking a metro map you figured the attacker was riding the A Line. It was a slim chance that the NYDP hadn’t also connected the dots but you knew skipping a meal was far more dangerous than becoming a suspect. Satisfied that you had a rough idea of where the man was most likely to strike, you began planning your hunt.
The sun dipped below the horizon as you readied yourself to go out. Standing in your living room, you checked yourself in the battered mirror you and Venom had plucked off the sidewalk. In your reflection you could see your face contort in a grimace. It was painful to ignore your stomach eating itself as it cried for the nutrient needed to sustain Venom.
For years you and your partner had been following a torturous routine. Eat. Starve. Eat. Starve. It was a ruthless cycle. Trying to outlast the hunger never got any easier and the longest you managed was two weeks before losing your senses.
Never one to dwell on the negative, you struck a sultry pose in the mirror. “Don’t we make sexy bait?” you stated, watching your reflection wink back at you. Venom had successfully transformed you into a criminal’s wet dream.
After a beat, the fabric splayed against your upper back shifted. A mass of writhing slime made up the length of your lover’s neck as it stretched from behind you until you were both face to face.
“As much as I like looking at you, we need to go. We don’t want to eat the first person we meet on the street.” As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, loud enough that anyone listening from blocks away could have heard it.
You let out a humorless laugh. “I guess you have a point.” With renewed focus, you walked to your bedroom.
The room was barely big enough to fit your twin-sized bed. Leaving very little space for the dingy nightstand and dresser that made up the rest of the furniture in the room. Kicking away the discarded bubble wrap on the floor, you slid open the door to your broom-like closet. Rummaging through the pile of no-longer needed clothes, your hand found the loose floorboard. Peeling it back revealed a cache of stacked 100-dollar bills, all packed together tightly in the small space.
“We shouldn’t be spending more than a hundred right?” You fished out a bill from the stack of cash. “I mean, we’re not gonna get that crazy are we?” Well aware of your love for rhetorical questions, Venom only raised a non-existing brow in response. Satisfied with your judgment, you placed back the floorboard before rising on the balls of your feet and shoving the pile of clothes back into place.
Leaving your bedroom, you pressed the single bill against the fabric that covered your hip until it disappeared within the black material. Your partner made many things obsolete. There was no need for a purse when he could absorb most items within him and magically reproduce it whenever needed. Even clothes had no value. Gone were the days spent shopping and planning outfits. Venom’s ability to mimic even the most complicated of outfits resulted in money saved for your expenses and dates. It also explained the mound of unused clothes currently lying on your closet floor.
Adding a trip to Goodwill to your mental checklist, you did a once over before exiting and locking your apartment door. A trip down seven flights of stairs later- you were onto the streets of Hell’s Kitchen.
You headed Northeast towards the subway located on 50th street, watching with banal interest as people hustled home from their jobs as the sky darkened. Squeezing past a crowd of gawking Chinese tourists, you began silently praying that your outing would wrap up quickly. The sooner you eat the quicker the two of you could enjoy dinner.
‘We should order an entire tray of samosas.’ Venom suggested, recalling the Indian place you both had seen on your walk the other day. You mentally drooled at the image Venom churned up in your head. ‘And we have a discount for the place.’ It was hard to argue with your lover’s logic and even harder to fight off the wave of hunger that currently gripped you to your core.
“Where would I be without you? Hmm?” You laughed, despite the aching pain in your abdomen, feeling truly blessed with the life you had. Sure you had to eat people once in a while but it was a small price to pay for true love.
You soon arrived at the subway station and scurried underground with the crowd of workers and tourists. Now standing on the platform you tried your best to not be crushed within the sea of people. As the subway doors opened you were squished between people pushing into the car. Holding onto a metal railing, you swayed with the movement of the now-departing subway.
Having checked your phone before entering the metro car, you knew it was a few minutes until 10 PM. The two of you knew that the time of the attacks often varied, the latest one having occurred near 2 AM. Yet it never hurts to be early.
As the subway pulled into the next station with a screech you prepared yourself for a long night. Understanding that the man liked to strike within subway cars and stations, you loitered as subtle as you could, riding up and down the A Line for hours.
With a revealing outfit and no regard for your safety, you hoped the man would strike soon before the hunger won out.
…
The brightness of your phone screen irritated your eyes as it read 1 AM. You dragged a hand down your face, groaning at your terrible luck.
“What’s a guy gotta do to get a meal around here?” You slumped against the orange plastic subway seats. The subway trains had continued to empty themselves over the course of the night, with only a handful of people currently in each car. At this rate, within the next hour, the subway was bound to be void of any souls - except you and Venom - and the occasional homeless person.
‘Do you think we’re not convincing enough?’ Venom asked, hunger adding a layer of desperation to his voice.
Before you could answer, a particularly nasty hunger pang seized you as you doubled over in pain. The two of you were running out of time and the homeless man sleeping in the next car was starting to look appetizing.
“We need to get off. Now.” You hissed out, sweat glistening on your brow as you clutched your side. Hobbling over to the subway doors you turned your back to the direction of the sleeping man, keeping your eyes forward and your baser instincts at bay.
Thankfully, the next station was only a few moments away and you stumbled out of the subway car. It took both of your combined efforts to not have you land face first onto the platform. Clutching onto a metal support column, you felt yourself grow clammy as your body screamed with Venom’s hunger.
You had felt Venom growing weaker with every passing hour, his voice in your head becoming more lethargic. He was barely able to grunt out a ‘Behind us’ before you felt a hand rest on your lower back.
“You ok there, ma’am?” Your head turned to face the man currently too close for comfort, his breath fanning over your cheek as you slightly cringed away. His face was on the thinner side and his brown eyes sat behind a pair of glasses. The man attempted to offer a disarming smile but his close proximity sounded off warning bells in your head. Although the man seemed harmless enough you remembered what you two came for.
“M’ okayyyy.” You slurred out, nodding your head as you closed your eyes in an unusually long blink. Trying to stagger to your feet, the man’s hand migrated from your lower back to your waist, pressing you against his side as he helped you stand.
“Where are your friends?” The man asked, scanning around the empty platform. “Don’t tell me you’re out by yourself.” It was impossible to miss the tightening of the man’s grip at your side.
“I’m not. They’re all waiting for me down the street.” You stated, trying to squirm out of the man’s steel grip, the ‘alcohol’ making your efforts entirely useless..
“Come on, I’ll walk you to where you’re going.” The man smiled, yet the expression failed to reach his eyes. Despite your naturally tall stature the man still managed to clear a good four inches from the top of your head. It wouldn’t take much for him to overpower you - or so he believed.
“Thank you but I’m ok.” You pleaded, trying your best to push down your instinct to pounce on the man then and there. There was a strict code you and Venom (tried to) follow during your hunts. It wouldn’t bode well if you bit off the heads of people slightly inconveniencing you rather than the scum who truly deserved a dirt nap.
“I’m a gentleman, I insist.” the man badgered, refusing to let you go anytime soon. His other hand found your hand, gripping your wrist to stop you from prying off his other hand from your waist. You felt your knees buckle, your body tensing at the prospect of a meal as the man continued digging himself into his own grave.
“Please, don’t touch me. My friends are gonna be looking for me.” You warbled, Venom helping to sell the act as you felt tears fall from your glassy eyes. You meagerly tried to shove him away only to cry out when his right hand gripped your jaw hard enough to bruise.
“Stop crying. You women these days are so fucking stuck up, you know that?” the man seethed, painfully yanking at your face to be near inches from his. Your hands scratched at his wrist, only succeeding in angering him as you fought to escape his clutches.
“Let’s go.” he hissed, dragging you across the empty platform, covering your mouth to muffle your screams.
‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ Venom cheered in your head, his volume leveled with the thundering beating of your heart as your body ached with hunger and bloodlust. You dug your heels in, hitting and scratching at the man, allowing him chance after chance to not follow through with what you suspected he had planned.
“Stop it!” The man warned, a vein bulging on his neck as he shoved your head against the concrete wall of the platform stairs. Your vision exploded into stars and black spots. Momentarily dazed, the man clutched a handful of your hair and rounded to the back of the stairs, dragging you away from immediate sight from the street.
Your mouth tasted of copper as the man let your body fall against the dirty platform floor. Trying your best to blink the man back into focus you mentally laughed at the fact he wore an extremely ugly windbreaker. You were unsure if it was the brain injury talking or the man actually had a piece of clothing that boasted five different fabric patterns. A smile broke out on your face which only served to piss the man off more.
“What’s so funny, hmm?” The man nudged you with the tip of his shoe, leaving a scuff mark on your exposed shoulder.
Your smile dropped immediately. You might have underestimated the extent of the damage you took because your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you tried to babble pleas for your life. Struggling to prop yourself onto your forearms, your vision swam as your balance had also suffered. Watching your pathetic attempt the man kicked your arms out from under you, the floor rushing up to meet you as your lip split open on your teeth.
He laughed as your face kissed the floor. You could hear him mumble something under his breath as the sound of a belt buckle becoming undone reached your ears.
Groaning at the pain and the head splitting migraine, you felt your last shred of patience melt away.
“Fuck this shit.”
Tired, bruised, and absolutely starving, you lept onto your feet from your position on the floor. The man was taken aback, surprised at your actions. Venom rose from under your skin, the lack of food greatly impacting his response time but it was quick enough to work with as you rushed the man.
Although shocked, he managed to swing a fist at your face and connect as you tackled him to the ground. It was a clean hit and made your teeth rattle. Thankfully, Venom numbed the pain to an aching throb which allowed you to continue wrestling the man into submission. Which was becoming something easier said than done.
Both of you scrambled to overpower the other. The man had height and weight over you but you had a symbiote boyfriend that more than made up for it. Your clothes warped, melting and moving down your forearms as you grappled with the man on the floor, both of you grunting with effort.
In the back of your head you laughed that you were engaged in an all out silent scuffle as the two of you tried to not draw attention from any passersby on the street.
The situation quickly lost its humor when the man stuck a knife between your ribs.
Venom, not liking your chances, jumped you to your feet and used your legs to kick the man away from the two of you. He slid a few feet away as he struggled to regain his breath.
“You asshole!” You wheezed, clutching at your punctured side. It took immense determination to not curl up in pain on the floor and instead remain on your feet. Grumbling profanities as the sharp pain from the wound painstakingly ebbed to a pin prickling sensation you shuffled over to the man. Feeling petty you kicked him as he was down, winning a groan of pain for your effort. The man took a feeble swing at you with his knife which you easily sidestepped.
‘This is just sad.’ Venom whined, his own patience growing thin as his hunger grew.
“You're right.” You said out loud, “Let's get this over with, hmmmmm?” Unable to restrain himself any longer, Venom engulfed and encased your body mid-sentence, distorting it to become the domineering physique of your bonded forms.
Venom snarled a ‘Finally!’ as his lips pulled back into a vicious smile. The man went pale in the face, not completely believing what he was seeing.
Not wasting time, Venom reached down and plucked the man off the floor like a ragdoll. Before the man's brain registered that it was in his best interest to scream he found his head in Venom’s gaping maw. With a swift bite, his head was severed from his body.
The relief was instantaneous.
You focused on the euphoric feeling of the hunger fading away rather than the fact Venom was busy licking the blood off the man's twitching decapitated neck. Every ache and pain in and on your body became non-existent. The phantom taste of phenethylamine bloomed on your tongue, a flavor that always made you think of sweet tangerines. Venom hummed happily, licking his lips in satisfaction as he felt right as rain and ready to take on the world.
Unfortunately, the two of you were snapped back to reality by the sound of a subway approaching. Cocking his head to the side Venom estimated it was only a near 100 feet away but it would be seconds until it entered the station. It would be sloppy to leave the body in such an obvious location but in this situation it's essential that the police find their way to this corpse sooner rather than later.
‘We gotta move.’ you advised, wanting to put as much distance between the two of you and the body. A quick listen told the two of you the subway was coming up from the South. Abandoning the body on the floor, Venom jumped down onto the subway tracks that headed South and sprinted into the tunnel with renewed vigor.
‘That reaaaallllyyy hit the spot!’ you exclaimed, both of your bellies full and your heart light as a feather. The wind blowing against Venom's face as he ran felt refreshing. ‘If we get out at the third station we'll be a street away from that Indian place. Or- I think it's the third. Or, well, who cares? We'll figure it out!’ You couldn't have cared less about giving accurate directions, too absorbed in the fact that Venom was no longer in danger of dying to starvation.
“Thank you for the meal.” Venom smiled, continuing to sprint down the pitch black tunnel with ease. Your stomach did flips, knowing how affectionate Venom got right after a hearty meal.
‘It’s nothing big guy, just glad you’re back to 100%.’ Encased within Venom your body couldn’t express itself as it normally would but your message always got across.
“I never thought I’d be so lucky as to have this world’s best human as my own.” Venom was practically preening, prideful that his first pick for a human host had turned out to be the best decision he’s made this millenia. He ignored your pleas to stop his flattering and chattered on as he dodged oncoming trains.
Despite having known each other for a total of five years, your relationship still held the excitement of the first week you two crossed paths. Within your chest your heart pitter pattered, finding your symbiote boyfriend exceptionally charming.
The platform lights of the subway station on (what should be) 23rd street soon came into view. Slowing his pace, Venom kept close to the tunnel’s wall wanting to avoid being viewed by anyone waiting for the next train. The two of you opted for Venom to retreat back within you, his lumbering physique not optima for sneaking around.
Tip-toeing to the edge of the platform, you peered around the corner, checking if the coast was clear. Unfortunately, two officers in uniform were standing against the wall at the backend of the station. Ducking behind the corner you were grateful the two had been preoccupied with their phones.
Based on their position the officers had a clear view of the entire platform and would definitely see you climbing back on to it.
‘We could crawl along the ceiling and blend in?’ Venom suggested. For the past few months, the two of you had played around with the concept of mimicking your immediate background to make yourselves invisible - but it was an unmastered skill and worked best if you were standing still.
‘I think we shoul-’ The officer’s radios crackling to life cut off your train of thought.
A female operator could be heard relaying information, “All Level One units, be advised, 10-33 at 50th and 8th.” Experience told you that a 10-33 meant homicide and the two officers quickly confirmed they would head to the scene. You strained to listen as the sound of their heavy shoes grew farther away as they exited the station.
Not wanting to bring unwanted attention by loitering on the subway tracks, you hopped onto the platform. In the clear you breathed a sigh of relief. “We have definitely earned those samosas.” stretching your arms above your head you daydreamed about those fried triangles of savory goodness.
‘A whole tray's worth!’ Venom cheered, moving your body forward towards the station exit. Taking the steps two at a time you reached the top in a few bounds. The cool night air was a welcomed reprieve from the stuffy tepidness of the underground subway.
Veering out of the way of a vendor packing for the night, you continued walking East where you thought the restaurant should be. Despite being two in the morning, there were surprisingly more people out in this part of the city than in your neighborhood. A look at the local buildings explained why this place was such a center for activity.
Within the next few city blocks, the streets were lined with restaurants that had booths spilled onto the street. You two passed by a roped off line full of expensive looking young adults, all waiting to get into what you assumed was a high end club. Some 24-hour shops hosting a myriad of products and services were squeezed between the bustling restaurants and bars. It was as if a borough’s worth of shops, restaurants, and entertainment establishments had been squeezed into a four by two block radius.
It was kinda cool.
Walking past couples galavanting hand in hand, you took mental notes of the places still open and busy at this ungodly hour. It would be smart to keep tabs where the two of you could grab a bite to eat while out prowling the streets.
‘Ooh! There, there!’ Venom exclaimed, signaling to the restaurant’s wooden sign that protruded from the brickwall of the building. Soft music carried from the open door of the restaurant. A hostess stand was left unattended with a ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign standing guard. After ringing the small bell sitting on top of a closed ledger you waited to be attended.
A small redhead briskly appeared from within the restaurant, smiling warmly as she not so subtly checked to see if you traveled with a bigger party. “For how many?”
“Table for one please.” You replied, placing a finger in the air.
Most likely realizing her chances of getting a large tip got exponentially smaller, her smile dropped a few degrees. “You want to eat outside or inside?”
You caught a glimpse of the restaurant’s interior while peering over her head. A sea of twinkling lights adorned the ceiling with small items hanging in between, completely covering whatever ceiling existed.
“I’ll eat inside.”
Nodding in acknowledgment, the hostess waved for you to follow her inside.
The restaurant boasted a decent size, able to accommodate 12 tables and multiple booths lining the walls. It appeared the 2 AM crowd was profitable considering that nearly half of the seats were filled.
You were seated at a table for two and thanked the hostess as she left you with a menu. It was only four pages long with the front being dedicated to the restaurant's name and founding year. The rest of the pages were filled with the name of appetizers and entrees typed out in comic sans. The prices were fairly decent - all things considered. As you flipped to the back you read the list of cocktails and drinks offered.
“Anything in particular look good? - well, besides the samosas we’re going to get,” you asked, knowing Venom wouldn’t be too happy if you failed to get what you originally came here for.
Your eyes scanned over the pages again as your finger (not completely in your control) ran down the list of food items. Venom stopped and pointed at an entree.
“Rogan josh? That’s a throwback. I could definitely go for some lamb though.” You hummed in content, turning the page to take a final look at the drinks. “Let’s try out their kahwah tea! It’s been so long since we’ve had some.” Satisfied with your order, you placed the menu down on the table and took a moment to take in the place.
The restaurant was exceptionally charming. Raising your head, you got a good look at the ceiling. A variety of stringed lights ran throughout the entire restaurant, emitting most if not all of the ambient lighting for the place. Snaked between all the lights were yards of tinsel, colorful fabrics, and small country flags hanging from a cord. It was as if a maximalist’s Christmas tree had exploded all over the ceiling.
Amused, you made a small game of trying to figure out where one string of lights started and ended, but even with Venom’s help it was near impossible to figure out as each decoration seemed to meld with one another. Halfway through your third attempt a waiter appeared.
“Hello, my name is Annarr, I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get you started with something to drink?” The waiter looked no older than 23 but the slight bags under his eyes told you he’s been through the wringer. You suspected it may have something to do with working an overnight shift.
“Hi, yeah, I’ll have a kahwah tea.” You smiled up at him. “And I’m ready to order if you don’t mind.” You closed the menu as Annarr readied to write your order in his notepad.
“I’ll have the rogan josh, please. Do you guys make it spicy at all?” Annarr nodded in response to your question.
“It’s really spicy but it’s really good,” he reassured.
“Ok, that sounds good. And how many samosas come in an order?” You folded your hands innocently on the table in front of you.
“It’ll come with six.”
“Got it. I’ll have five then, if possible.”
Annarr raised a brow, “You only want five samosas?”
“Oh!” you laughed, understanding his confusion “No, sorry, I want five orders of samosas.”
There was a beat of silence before Annarr nodded and wrote that down. He confirmed your order one more time before leaving to place it with the kitchen and fetch your drink.
With nothing to do but wait you grabbed your phone from your pocket to search the local news websites.
“It’s been nearly half an hour. Think anyone’s posted anything?” You asked out loud, the ambient noise of the nearby patrons drowning out your voice.
“It doesn’t hurt to check.” Venom quietly commented, a miniature version of his head peeking out from the collar of your shirt. Silently agreeing you opened a news app on your phone while your other hand fondly scratched the top of Venom’s head.
Clicking on the live news feed you were met with the late night weatherman giving this week’s forecast. You continued watching for a few minutes, until a ‘breaking news’ flashed across the screen just as Annarr dropped off your tea. Giving him a quick thanks, you used the salt and pepper shakers to prop up your phone as you took the tea in your hands.
“Good morning, New York. Breaking news, a man has been found dead at the metro station located on 50th and 8th. The NYPD has cordoned off the station and no suspect has been taken into custody. Police Chief Mendoza is expected to give a press conference this morning at 8 AM. Here with all your breaking news, Channel 9.” An outro played out as the station clipped back to the weatherman who continued speaking on the light drizzle expected this weekend.
Turning off your phone you returned it to your pocket. “Let’s hope we stay out of the spotlight for a good while.” You wished out loud. Thankfully most of your hunts never made it onto the news due to a lack of physical evidence. Only when a body was needed to close an investigation would one be conveniently found - headless of course.
Venom snuggled into the crook of your collarbone, “We should head back and see if anyone's figured out who he is.” Knowing him, you knew full well he meant for the two of you to return after your meal. He had worked hard for those samosas and he wasn't going to give them up to satisfy his curiosity.
Picking up your tea, you blew on it softly. “We'll have to change first.” You commented before taking a sip. Venom's countless crime shows hammered in the fact that suspects always liked to return to the scene of the crime. The police were well aware this fact and it’s highly possible pictures will be taken of the crowd. It wouldn't do you any favors to be connected with the trail of headless bodies you left in San Francisco and Los Angeles.
With nothing to do but wait for your food, your eyes returned to wandering around the novel restaurant.
Nearly 2/3rds of the crowd were eating in pairs (and yes, you did count yourselves), while the rest dined alone. One such solitary customer was a thin blonde woman, eating what looked to be a curry dish as she jotted down something in a handheld notepad. It was impossible to tell if it was Venom’s insatiable curiosity or yours that wanted to find out she could be fervently writing about.
Annarr soon arrived with your food. The smell of perfectly spiced lamb and crispy fried goodness quickly turned your thoughts away from the pretty blonde and to calculating how many samosas you could stuff in your mouth at once.