Chapter 1 : Blood-sister

 

“Hello, you.”

 

I can feel them mentally still. They should have expected it, really. I know what they are, what they are capable of, and I have several theories regarding what they could do if you think outside of the box.

 

The ‘motions’ resumes.

 

“[Caution, acknowledgment] : Greetings…”

 

No surprise, and first deviation from ‘cannon’, the voice is androgynous for now. And mental-speech is kinda fucky because I can both understand their answer and their emotions at the same time.

 

The first thing you must know about the Klyntar symbiotes is that they imprint with the behavior of their hosts. When they hatch, they do not have a personality per se. Instead, they got theirs from their first host.

 

That is why I’m practicing walking meditation and breathing exercises as I walk out of Central Park right now. I need to raise my new friend for possibly life as a calm and thinking individual.

 

Feel the wind on your face. It is the breath of the world, it washes over you with each of its movements.

 

Feel the rhythm of your feets beating on mother earth. Acknowledge her, so solid and stable under you. She nourishes and nurtures you, because you’re made of her flesh, like every organism on her skin.

 

So, yeah, I’m centering myself on a new-age thought process right now because a peaceful Klyntar is much easier to deal with than a corrupted one. I’m also feeling positively giddy because if I’m not mistaken, they can fix one of my most pressing and personal issues.

 

“Do you have a name ?” I ask them calmly.

 

“[Confusion, interrogation] : What is a name ?” They answer.

 

I notice that their voice is starting to take a feminine lilt to it. Uh. I was not expecting the process to be that quick.

 

Nice way to make a girl feel validated though, I love them, her, already.

 

“It is a word or set of words by which you are known, addressed, or referred to.”

 

“[Hesitation, acknowledgment] : I do not have a name.”

 

“That’s alright. Once you have found one you feel comfortable with, I’ll use it. I’m going to call you my friend instead until you choose.”

 

“[Acknowledgment, curiosity] : What is a friend ?”

 

Her voice is now totally feminine and it took less than five minutes. Her tone is crystalline and soothing. I know that she’s an asexual being but if she’s molded by my mind, I’m going to boldly assume her gender.

 

After all, if she’s like me, she can only like it.

 

“A friend is a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection. And since I like you, I want to call you my friend. But only if you like it.”

 

“[Excitation] : I would like that, I think.”

 

I can’t help but let a chuckle escape me. The girl is too eager, it is a little endearing.

 

“Then I will,” I answer while smiling.

 

“[Hesitation, interrogation] : What name should I use to call you ? You seem to have multiple ones.”

 

I halt my step for a beat, blinking, then shake my head and resume walking.

 

“I used to be Rachel, but I think I’ll take another one once things have settled properly. After all, this is a new life for me, it calls for a new name. I’ll let you know when I have chosen. In the meantime, you can call me your friend just like I will.” I answer her after a while.

 

"[Acknowledgment] : I understand.”

 

I mull over that line of thoughts until I finally reach the parking lot where my old Buick is. The silence in my mind isn’t an anxious one, I can feel my friend perusing my life present and past and assimilating knowledge and experiences.

 

This time, she’s the one to initiate the conversation.

 

“[Hesitation, wonder, admiration, interrogation] : You went through so much pain, yet you are so strong, how ?”

 

“Force of will I would say, and some magical pills,” I quipp, “Say, are you able to merge with my bloodstream, my friend ?”

 

I can feel her thinking about it on the mind-link.

 

“[Caution, acknowledgement] : I should be able to, but I’ll need an access point.”

 

“You have my permission to create one,” I tell her.

 

“[Acknowledgement] : Processing.”

 

I feel a pinprick on my right arm, then I feel my friend slither over my skin, and start to enter my vein.

 

She’s hotter than my blood, and I feel her expanding all over my blood vessels, reaching all my nook and cranny. I take a shaky breath when she reaches the brain, the sensation is particularly icky and alien, it makes me stumble.

 

It fades almost as quickly as it happened. That was fucky.

 

The mind-link is more solid now that she’s closer to my brain, the center of my mind. It is strange, stranger, like having a guardian angel over my shoulder and feeling the weight of their gaze.

 

The supremely violent kind of guardian angel that hides themselves under the veneer of civilization. I can feel that at the nearest sign of aggression, she will strike with the intent to kill first and ask questions later to protect me.

 

We will have to work a little bit on that.

 

“That was intense,” I finally say. Probably should have done that once properly seated in my car.

 

“[Awkwardness] : I’m sorry, I should have given you more time to prepare for it.”

 

“No matter,” I answer as I finally reach my black and rather nondescript car.

 

I rapidly set myself into the driver’s seat.

 

“[Curiosity, interrogation] : Are we going to our family unit ?”

 

I snort a laugh at the sentence.

 

“It’s called a home, and yes. But we will make a little detour before that.” I answer.

 

“[Curiosity, eagerness, interrogation] : What is the purpose of that detour ?”

 

“To get you some food and to find some E’s.”

 

***

 

The Thompsons’ home, Forest Hills, Queens, New York, 22:13

 

After a stop at a pharmaceutical dispensary, I finally find myself back in my room. I would probably put on some music if I wasn’t sharing my body with a Klyntar who doesn't really like heavy sounds, but no matter, we will solve that issue at a later time.

 

Plus, it would kind of be an assholish move considering that everybody in the house tucked in for the night.

 

Now that I’ve finally put away my heavy winter jacket and my sweater to get into my PJs, I can see that the little injury my friend made to enter my bloodstream is already closed. I guess that I already benefit from the increased healing factor that the symbiotes allegedly gave their hosts.

 

We have kept talking while I was busy driving and bartering with a store clerk that must ask himself a lot of questions now.

 

It’s not everyday a teenager buys for 200 bucks of phenylalanine complementary diet pills. The harder part was actually to make him sell anti-androgen and estrogen pills without a prescription to a minor but I managed to bullshit him quite masterfully, so it worked in the end.

 

I sit on my bed, considering my, our, next line of actions for a beat. I know at least how to start.

 

“Ok friend, we need to talk seriously, can you come out ?” I gently nudge the mental-link.

 

“[Caution, eagerness, acknowledgement] : Alright…"

 

A smile ghost on my lips as I watch her ooze out of my skin. She blossoms like a very deadly and black flower, out of my left shoulder, not caring about the fact that my shirt is blocking her way and simply flowing through its fabrics.

 

I watch her and pay very close attention to the form she chooses to appear before me with.

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She looks like Venom alright, but far more svelte and feminine. She even has a pair of modest mounds on her torso. She doesn’t sport the iconic white spider motif on her, which is normal. We are still attached at the level of my shoulder and arm, and she didn’t bother to materialize a ‘lower abdomen’ and ‘legs’, nor what should be her ‘right arm’.

 

Her head is far less angular than her comic counterpart, more softer. She doesn’t have a nose, but two nostrils that could belong to a certain evil wizard whose name you should not pronounce, two ovoid shaped white ‘eyes’ tilting upside, and a ‘mouth’ that is more a white arc stretching from one ‘ear’, quite pointy those, to the other.

 

We smile at each other, and her teeth are as sharp as those of a shark.

 

I reach a hand to her cheek and she mimics me. She’s warm and alive, yet so strange and alien at the same time.

 

“You’re not afraid,” she says, using her real voice for the first time, and it is just as lovely and soothing as her mental one. It sounds like another world extremely far away, of the void of space and of an existence that must be shared to be complete.

 

“Why should I ?” I ask, “I felt you building yourself after me. I know what you are and what you will be. The strength behind the gossamer, and the will to do anything to reach some goals people will deem unattainable and chafe at.”

 

She tilts her head as I do the same. I realize that we mirror each other perfectly.

 

“We may have to rethink that friend thing,” I mumble.

 

“Why ?” I can feel a bit of hurt behind that. Her hand leaves my cheek and is clenched protectively before her.

 

“Because we are more like sisters than friends,” I kindly tell her, gently taking her hand into mine, making little circles with my finger on her palm.

 

“Is it better ?” she asks as I feel her tense.

 

“Much better,” I answer while nodding, “We will be family, after all, we now have the strongest of all blood ties, with you living in mine.”

 

“Blood-sister ?” She asks, head tilted and ‘shoulders’ relaxing.

 

I don’t think she really got the joke, but I find her reaction cute so I’ll stay put.

 

“Blood-sister,” I agree easily.

 

We stay like that for a moment, saying nothing, just looking at each other while our fingers play between themselves.

 

“The first thing you should know, sister,” I feel her fingers clench around mine at the mention of our new status of happiness, “Is that I will never lie to you. I cannot because of our mind-link, and I will not try because if we don’t trust each other, who could we?”

 

“No one,” she answers easily.

 

“The world where we are is going to get dangerous,” I start and she listens to me with rapt attention, “There is empirical evidence that we are in a world similar to a work of fiction of my old one.”

 

“I saw,” she shivers, “So much destruction, death and…”

 

Her head tilts downward.

 

“... Corrupted kin.”

 

I let her gather herself for a moment. I continue what I was saying only when she looks at me again.

 

“Yes, but we can change that, sister,” I reassure her, “And build ourselves a happy and fulfilling life.”

 

“How so ?” she asks.

 

I look at her archingly.

 

“Can’t you tell ?” I have to ask.

 

“I’d like you to tell me,” she answers easily.

 

I have to chuckle at that.

 

“First, I would like you to observe what happens to my body when taking those,” I say, while taking one pill each of AA and E.

 

After having swallowed the two with the help of a glass of water prepared beforehand, I continue.

 

“You can accelerate my biological processes, correct ?” I asks.

 

“I can,” she nods at me.

 

“Can you do so while watching what those do ?”

 

She wordlessly nods again, and my stomach churn and rumble for a few seconds before settling. She remains quiet and I gather that she’s focusing on what is happening inside of me.

 

It takes her a few minutes, but she finally nods a third time.

 

“I know what they do,” she says.

 

“Could you make it so my body can do it on its own ?” I asks.

 

She hesitates for a second.

 

“I could,” she starts testily, “but it would make me hungry.”

 

Fair enough, I kind of expected it.

 

It’s my turn to nod in understanding.

 

“Alright, remember what you saw. Now I would like for you to look at what happens to me once I take those.” I say as I take one vial of phenylalanine pills and empty it in my mouth while gulping water.

 

It takes me a good minute and it is icky, but if I’m right…

 

She does not wait for me to tell her to accelerate the process and my stomach rumbles once more.

 

I watch intently as her surprise is getting bigger by the minute, her eyes getting comically bigger.

 

“The life-substance…” she starts, almost drowsy.

 

I’m fairly confident she’s gorging herself on the dopamine that I’m now producing in excess due to my biology being overstimulated.

 

“Still hungry ?” I teasingly ask while smirking.

 

“No, I’m almost full.” she said while shaking her head.

 

“Perfect,” I excitedly say, “So doing the first thing I showed you should be possible, right ?”

 

“Easily now,” she acquiesces simply.

 

Her eyes narrow in concentration for a few minutes and I let her work her magic.

 

“It is done,” she says after a while.

 

I release a breath that I didn’t know I was holding and a weight lifts itself from my shoulder.

 

“Thank you,” I say quietly, eyes closed from emotions.

 

I feel her arms, guess a second one got sprouted for the occasion, snaking around my neck.

 

My sister is hugging me and it’s soothing and she makes little circles on the high of my back and I can’t stop myself from falling apart.

 

For the first time since October, I’m crying.

 

But I cry from happiness.

 

***

 

It was her who tucked me into my bed while I was busy doing my best impression of the crying koala on her shoulder.

 

We’re laying side by side, facing each other and she’s still hugging me, but only with one arm. Even symbiotes don’t like having a full body weight on their artificial members apparently.

 

I personally do not care and busy myself holding onto her like she is my lifeline. Which isn’t really far from the truth.

 

I take a deep breath and damp my cheeks with the bed sheet.

 

“Thank you, I needed that,” I tell her while smiling.

 

“It must have been hard,” she says, her hand still doing little circles on my back.

 

I’m starting to love those, they are addictive.

 

“It was,” I agree immediately, “My life had been cut short, but it was a happy life nonetheless. Having to start over in an unknown environment and getting screwed over a second time was harsh on my mental health.”

 

“I could help, you know,” she starts and I listen, “Make you perfect, editing your life-code. Not like that simple easy fix you made me do.”

 

I take another deep breath with my eyes closed. It was one of the theories I had and I’m happy that I’m right. Which proves another one of my theories : all previous Klyntar hosts were idiotic morons.

 

“And I will let you, but not right now,” I tell her.

 

“Why ?” she asks, “You’ll be so much happier if I did.”

 

“Firstly, I have to ask : can you do the same thing to yourself, editing your life-code ?”

 

“I can, in a certain measure,” she answers readily.

 

Perfect, that will make a lot of things way easier.

 

“That's wonderful news !” I excitedly start, “That is giving me an inkling of where to begin !”

 

My eyes narrow in mischief.

 

“You see, on this planet, there’s some individuals that have special abilities.”

 

“Like me ?” she asks.

 

“Yes, but they have all in common the fact that they are humans, or close enough. Only, because of some variations of their life-code, they can lift things with their mind, sprout angel wings or manipulate all things water related.” I explain while my smile is stretching on my face.

 

“Intriguing, but what of it ?” she answers, not quite seeing where I’m going with this.

 

“Well, if you’re going to edit my life-code like you say so, why not cheat a little and get ourselves some bonuses while we’re at it ?” I asks archingly.

 

Her very big mouth forms a very little o of surprise and it’s actually kind of funny to see.

 

“And it would work because they are…” she starts.

 

“...Humans at the core.” And I finish her sentence.

 

“Fascinating ! How are they called ?” I can feel the excitation rising in her.

 

“Mutants, and I know just the place where we can find a whole bunch of them, and if I have to piss them off a little, I’d rather do it masquerading as a male figure, you see ?” I finally explain to her.

 

“Clever. But how will we do that ? We can’t really take multiple foes at once.” she ponders.

 

“I have a few ideas, but they need polishing. You could help by making me smarter actually, it’ll help immensely,” I answer her.

 

“I’ll do it while you’re asleep,” she answers immediately, “You’re guaranteed to feel awful if I do it now and it will take hours.”

 

“Fine.” I mock-pout and she giggles, which is a first.

 

And I love my sister's laugh, it’s all little bells like.

 

We stay in a companionable silence for a while, still hugging.

 

My sister breaks the silence first.

 

“Can we stay like this ?” Her voice is small and lacks confidence.

 

I can’t find it in myself to say no.

 

“Alright,” I agree, sighing slowly, “But only if you promise me to hide when the others wake up, even in the middle of the night. We can’t let them know about you.”

 

“I promise !”

 

I chuckle, tug the pillow under both of our heads a little better and close my eyes.

 

“Good night, sister.” I mumble under my breath, hugging the bundle of warmth and comfy alienness closer.

 

“Good night, blood-sister.”

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