Sorry, Robo- I do respect your authority; you are the Boss, but...well, Feceman is correct.
Here's another helping of:
Carnage: A Thanksgiving
The dawn has begun to pulse and wiggle into the sky, a red flow in a pale tissue of clouds.
Eddie admires the light with his symbiote. They’d love to emulate it, to flare out, extending themselves to the world- but Beck would be uncomfortable with that much openness, that much heat. Oh, well, they do look good in this form. Eddie chuckles.
It’s only that he’s so happy to connect with Beck; this is why they want to burst out. Normally, they’re reserved.
Eddie swings into the alley with a bouncing step. A truck is softly idling there, waiting for the workers. Good- he’s in time to help!
He takes a lungful of the lovely sinuous fog. He tastes…
Blood…
Pain…
Fear…
Death…
Rape, he tastes rape…
They spit out the filth in a bitter slaver. As the symbiote covers Eddie fully, they become Venom- a bleak, muscular beast. The white pattern on their chest, a spider symbol, twitches its legs. The whiteness flows, shrouding the blackness that is the massive bulk of them. Venom moves in the fog like a war-ship. They stalk, hidden. Fangs gleam in icicle gloss; they can’t stop salivating, washing out the mouth, pushing out the violation.
There is a burning lamp in the alley- the Shelter’s beacon. The door stands open. Now someone pitches out and collapses. Oh, he knows this innocent, this Abby…he remembers her. She first came to the Shelter for court-ordered community work…and stayed; she stayed; she wanted to help…
Venom stops. Symbiotes expel any chemical excess in saliva. The loud, copious splattering of his pain intensifies, sharply. Also, Venom hears the dry laughter of Carnage.
Abby is kneeling. Venom looks into her eyes. She is in death, like his death, but grimmer, a death of too much. The young woman is wearing only a long, gory shirt. There is blood on her thighs, on her neck- so much clinging, pulsing blood that Venom thinks her throat is cut. Then he sees that the lively blood is not only hers. The thing slithering on Abby is the union of her blood and the scarlet tentacles of Carnage.
The symbiotic tentacles begin to pull Abby slowly back into the Shelter.
Venom follows, hissing.
And the writer goes off to pick up the turkey, make the cranberries, and the stuffing. I’ll post more later.