#ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴛ ᴇɴᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛ; SYMBIOSIS.

[feleshero]

Night-Spider Episode 9: The Alien Costume (Part 2)

The first time Felicia put on the 'suit', it was... It was like the first time she was with Flash. The 'first' time, not the FIRST time.

It was warm. Tender where she needed coddling, fierce where she needed pressure. It coiled in her hands at first, threads of cooled darkness tickling at her aura. Asking permissions and testing boundaries.

She was unsure where to guide it. Sentient alien companions were a bit outside her wheelhouse, admittedly. She thought it best to do what consenting adults did and ask.

❝ How do we do this? ❞ There was a warble in her hands. A response gone unspoken, but one she understood. Deep breath.

The next part also reminded her of her first time with Flash... sorta.

The tears welling in her eyes and spilling out onto her cheeks, the impossibly disgusting yet eternally sweet flavor coating every bud on her tongue, the feeling like she was choking... pinpoint spots of the abyss forming in the center of her vision as she choked, gagged, drowned under the deluge forcing its way down her throat.

Hunched over, the darkness in her hands has grown three times as large. Ten times as heavy. It brings her down to her knees, spiking her into the earth in penance as her throat bulges at the seams.

Small veins of obsidian leak through her pores. The effusion burns COLD. So cold she can feel her skin freezing under its creeping advance. She tries to wick some away, in a panic. She succeeds, a glob of darkest black sent careening away from her, trailing a warm, rich crimson behind it.

A swatch of her flesh is ripped off, the darkness having threaded itself through her skin like needlepoint. To be rid of it, now, would be to be rid of her. She's trapped, freezing to death under a torrent of molten entropy, and her every pitiful cry is denied purchase.

Throat. Vocal chords. Even the well of her lungs have been seized by the suit. Every sound she makes is a frantic gurgle, a horrid screech, or a pitiful sob. Ichor leaks from her mouth when she tries to speak, metallic like blood, she can feel the perforations in her tongue, now swollen and barbed, too big to sit comfortable behind the serrated fangs that splintered her pristine whites and tore her gums asunder to find purchase.

Oxygen was precious. Measured in seconds now that her lungs were heavy with fluid and closed to the rest of her being.

Her phone. Just out of reach of her spasming fingers. If she can find a moment of focus, just ONE, she can call for help. Middle and Ring curl back, a practiced manuever toward the spinneret embedded in her wrist. They find purchase!

THWIP! The gossamer thread casts out, finds its target and-

❝ ... ❞

Gone. Lost beneath the darkness. Extended hand gone limp and then dragged underneath the oceanic abyss. Her flesh hardened and peeled off, her muscles untethered and splayed out, her bones dissolved. Gone.

And then the voice of GOD carves its way through Felicia.

Vibrating. Nothingness.

Reweaving. Infinite.

The divine presence changes the spider's venom within her. The tarantula's venom changes the call of the abyss without her. They both changed what remained of Felicia. They all turned into something else.

An Angel of the Void.

The spider made darker. The darkness made venomous.

Felicia was stretched. Stretched as anyone when seen from out of time. Across the call of ages, back to a universe that died to bring her this death. Almost an ouroboros. A spiral. A maelstrom.

The gravity well of a black hole, twisting inward, tightening, taking her below and below to the bottom, the heart, and through to the other side.

The Suit said: "When you hear this, you will know you are in the new you."

The Spider warned: "They'll build you till nothing remains."

Felicia agreed: "I must want these waves to drag me away..."

And then she was whole. Full. Alive? Lungs SCREAMING appreciation for the taste of air again. Veins in overdrive, pushing blood, adrenaline, and more through her hyper-powerful being.

Outside of her bedroom, out in the city, clinging to the facade of Fisk Tower and staring into... into- her own reflection? But upside down. And in a STUNNING suit! The colors were familiar, but the logo? What a design.

❝ What... the fuck did you do to me? ❞

A response unspoken, in the still-frayed edges of her mind. Like winterized lightning crashing around her synapses, the distant warblings felt much closer now.

Much easier to discern. Almost like a voice she could hear, as clear as she could hear her own. As if spoken through her own mouth.

❝ To YOU, Felicia? Nothing. But FOR US? Everything. ❞