Chapter Text
Two voices broke his slumber. Had he been sleeping? He didn’t remember going to sleep - he remembered falling off of-
Yep. That would do it.
The two voices were frantic. He couldn’t really tell what they were saying just yet - he had just fallen over five stories, after all, and he was so tired. One voice sounded like a man with a New York accent, but he was stumbling over words in a way that made it seem like he hadn’t talked in a long time. The other voice was much deeper, and echoed around the room every time it spoke in a way that made it sound doubled. He vaguely remembered his training in the back of his mind, but his brain was too fogged up to really think of anything.
Instead, he went back to trying to make sense of the shapes around him. He was definitely indoors - the off-white ceiling stained after years of mistreatment left nothing to be imagined. He tried to turn his head, and got it to roll slightly to the left, where the voices were coming from. There was a man standing in front of what looked like a kitchen counter, making frantic motions with his hands and spreading something out on a baking sheet. To the man’s far left was a couch, and to the far right was a dining table with one chair.
Feeling the surface he was on, he could guess that the man had given him his only bed - if a bare mattress with a pillow and blanket could count as a bed. It smelled vaguely of mildew - normal, considering that civilisation had collapsed - and strangely enough, potatoes.
Now that he had taken a moment to orient himself, he felt like he could think much more clearly. What was the procedure for waking up after he got knocked out? Think, boy, think!
Step one: Identification of self. That one was easy enough. Morales, Miles. Seventeen years old. Resident of New York City. Spider trainee, rank two.
Step two: Identification of surroundings. Someone’s house, I guess. It seemed like a nice enough place - who’s able to find both a mattress and a couch? And if they’re about to find both of those things, what about only one chair? It certainly sounded like there were two people here.
Speaking of two people, Step three: Identification of other persons. A man in a leather jacket putting a tray of food in an oven. Thinking about it, Miles didn’t actually see two people, just the one. They were still talking, so he might as well make an extra effort to eavesdrop and gain more information.
“... didn’t you see the symbol on their shirt? They’re a Spider . We can’t just-”
“And what have the Spiders done for us? They destroyed your life, and abandoned and tried to kill me. We can just set them outside and-”
“ No, dear. They’re just a kid, we can’t leave them somewhere out there, unconscious and vulnerable-”
“I’m not saying we have to put them anywhere dangerous! We could even put them somewhere in their own territory, you know they wouldn’t stop us. We just can’t keep them here , it’s not safe-”
“I’m not happy about them being here either! But they’re probably confused, tired, and starving, we can’t just ‘set them outside!’ We can make them promise not to tell-”
“ Promise? Oh, you’re going to make them promise . Since when have Spiders ever honored their promises? Don’t you remember-”
“Honey. Baby. Darling. Light of my life. Who is going to believe that we found a dying kid, brought them to our home, fed them tater tots, and then sent them on their way? Nobody . Especially coming from a trainee.”
The other voice was quiet for a moment, seemingly contemplating what the other had said. The man sighed.
“I know, I know.” A pause. “I won’t let them.” Another, longer pause. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. I promise, I won’t let them.” The man sniffled a little, paused and continued, “Get out here. Fully, this time.”
Miles didn’t have time to contemplate the meaning of the words before pure black tendrils coiled up from the floor, twisting and shaping their masses together to form something resembling a human, except much taller and more frightening. As the full body was assembled, wisps of white shot through the mass, highlighting its muscles and limbs. Two streaks of white on the thing’s head widened into eyes, and that’s when the dread set in.
He wasn’t found by a kind stranger.
He was found by the leader of the Klyntar Army.
He’s trapped with Venom.
And he has no escape.