Her name is Venom

Everybody has fears. Even if it's of the most insignificant things. Fears do come true, fears haunt, fears eat deep, devouring your sanity. Your fear is your weakness. Some prefer to run from it, to hide from it. Denying your fears don't help you; overcoming it does. You overcome your fears you become stronger. How do I know? Let's just say my life has revolved around a lot of fears. Some of which left me hollow and opposite of who I was. It is said that heaven and hell are two different places. You face hell on Earth, you face heaven later right? Trash!

Being an outcast isn't something I'd say is nice neither would I say is bad. I'm the god of my own self. Why? When you're not accepted by the being in heaven nor the being in hell, you become what I am. A being in between with despicable powers which lie between good and bad. And I won't say I work for a certain party. I'm an outcast. Even on Earth I was. But now what truly are my? I'm what they call Károíties.

I wouldn't bother telling how I became what I am. But I will tell you how I ended up in a car upturned, buried deep in the sea with an unconscious boy on the line between death. But I'd rather not have myself tell the tale. I'd let her do it.

Clink clank, clink clank. The sound echoed through the partially dark room. A bulb dangled from the ceiling. The source of light was coming from it's flicker. The polished walls stained with splattered red. Glancing down at the stains stood a lady in a black attire. Her leather pants hosted a gun strap at it's mid thigh. Her 6 inch heeled black leather boots stood on the hand of the deseaced.

Her hand twitched as she adjusted her biker gloves. Her sniffled a bit as she wiped her nose. She really didn't expect him to put up such a fight. And she wasn't complaining either. She had gotten a little tired of the old wimpy acts she got from her other victims. She ran a hand carefully down her exposed stomach, tracing the spot the red liquid flowed from. She sighed as she took off her unzipped hoodie. It's been a long night and a perfect end to it would be a nice bottle of whiskey which stood on the glass stool.

Grabbing it, she poured herself a glass as she sat her self on the red leather chair. She turned to the dead man "care to join me?" She waited a second as if his reply would come at any moment but she knew it wouldn't. Not now not ever. " Fine, soothe yourself. More for me." She gently downed the liquid and let out a satisfied exhale. " Nice whiskey. But unfortunately I have to be on my way. Hope you had a nice evening because I certainly did." She fixed her guns back into it's strap and stood. Having a leg on his torso, she carefully shook him. She clicked her tongue and sighed. " See you in hell."

She struted out of the building, fixing her hood onto her head as she disappeared into the dark. A few miles away and an explosion shook the ground, earning a smirk from her. She breathed in the angry smoke and sighed with contempt. " How much I love the smell of destruction."