It was a Friday night. I was doing what I always do, fighting crime. I mean, come on, I'm Peter Parker, Spiderman, the guy everyone relies on. I shouldn't start at the fight though, should I? Let me restart.

MJ and I are going pretty steady now. We took a break a while ago due to a fight and her four month trip to London. We don't live together, but she still comes over for dinner and checks on me after fights. I've been beaten up more than once- er, twice? Okay, okay, it's been at least five. I hate having MJ worry about me, but you can't stop her once she sets her mind on something.

So anyway, it was a Friday night. I was facing off this weird-acting burgaler. When I say a weird guy, I mean a guy laughing histarically to himself and walking like he just shat himself. I went to go catch him, but he seemed like he was in pain.

I got close to the man and pushed him to the ground facing me. His face and arms were just full of black veins, his pupils dilated completely, and he was shaking like he was having a stroke.

"Hey! You alright?" No response. "Come on man, say something!"

I waited for an answer, what I seemed to get was a face full of black, gooey vomit projected into my face, and my open mouth.

"Gross man! What the hell?"

"It spreads till he overcomes your every sense. Thank you for taking him away. The name's Eddie Brock. It'll take a few hours for him to adjust, I suggest you go home and never leave the house."

"What the hell is he? Did you just give me a virus?"

"Something like that. Have fun!"

And just like that, the guy was gone. He sprinted off into the dark and was no where, no matter how much I persued. I eventually gave up, I called out the name he called himself, but nothing.

When I got to my appartment, my chest ached. It felt like I couldn't breathe, like someone was giving the hardest bear hug ever made. It hurt, I couldn't breathe, I started to shake, I needed MJ. I searched through my bag, nothing, bedroom, nothing, kitchen, nothing, bathroom, nothing. I gave up and sat on the floor of the bathroom. I got up and looked into the mirror. My face had the same black veins as Eddie, but not as worse. I didn't want to see the rest of me, so I kept the suit on.

I heard the door to my appartment open and close. I walked out of the bathroom to see MJ standing near the T.V.

"Yah know, you need to answer your phone more often Peter." She said, waving my phone in the air.

"I looked everywhere but on the T.V. stand, glad you found it."

"Yeah, well, you know that they say about-... boys..." She stared into my face, making my anxious. "Peter what happened?"

"I-i'm fine MJ, it's nothing, really. It doesn't hur- AAAAAAH!" I fell to the floor. It felt like someone stabbed me in the chest, I couldn't breathe at all. I layed on the floor gasping.

"Peter! Oh my God! Hold on, I'll get you to the hospital!" She began to pull my arm around her neck.

"N-no! Please. I'll be okay. I just need to sleep. Please MJ."

"Okay, okay. I'm giving you till Wednesday to get better. I'll come check up on you every day." She led me to the couch and sat me down gently.

"No. Let me do it alone, please."

"If that's what you want. Only till Wednesday, okay?"

"O-okay."

She walked towards the front door and started to leave.

"Be safe, check your phone every time I check on you, goodnight Peter."

"Goodnight MJ." And with that, she shut the door and was gone.