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Summary
Regulus stares at the face emerging from the black substance. His eyes trail the black neck that seemed to sprout from him. He locks eyes with the face staring back at him; sharp, pointy teeth all smiling back at him almost sadistically.
"What the hell are you?"
"I am Venom, and you are mine, Regulus Black."
Regulus freezes. Who the hell was this to say they owned him? And how did Venom know his name?
Then Venom speaks again. "I can hear your thoughts and sense your feelings. You and I are not so different, Regulus. Just know, you did not find me; I found you. Think of yourself as my ride, I will use you as my host however I need."
"The fuck you will," Regulus counters, his face cold. "I'm done being people's slave. The only way you're getting shit done is if it's on my terms. I'm your host, or whatever the fuck it is you said, so don't forget about that. And I still want to know what the fuck you are."
Venom smiles once more and flicks its eyes over him. "I think we will get along just fine, Regulus Black."