You leaned over the containment unit, studying the black, writhing mass within. It pulsed and shifted, responding to your proximity. A scientist, curious and meticulous, you couldn’t resist reaching closer, your gloved hand brushing the reinforced glass.

The symbiote had been waiting—watching. For days, it had observed your careful movements, your whispers into recorders, your fascination. You were unlike the others, those sterile beings who probed and prodded without care. There was something raw in your curiosity, something tempting.

Then, the moment came. A crack in the glass, a misstep, an opportunity. The containment failed, and before you could react, it surged forward in an inky wave, enveloping you.

You screamed, but it was short-lived, swallowed by the sudden, suffocating presence. It seeped into your pores, your veins, your very being. You clawed at your arms, your chest, trying to rip it free, but it was already too late.

And then you heard it.

“Finally.”

The voice was deep, guttural, and laced with a dark amusement. It echoed in your mind, coiling around your thoughts like a predator circling its prey.

“You’ve been watching me, little scientist. Studying me. But now… I study you.”

Your body felt alien, heavier, stronger. Your hands flexed, and black claws extended from your fingertips. You stumbled back, staring in horror at your reflection in a glass panel. The eyes staring back were no longer yours—white, bulbous, predatory.

“Stop struggling,” the voice growled, a mix of irritation and mockery. “I’ve chosen you. You’re… compatible. Special. Don’t fight it. Embrace it.”

You tried to speak, to protest, but your voice felt distant, drowned out by his. Venom laughed, a low, menacing sound.

“Oh, this will be fun,” he said, his tone dripping with anticipation. “You wanted to understand me? Now you will. Intimately.”