I Woke Up in the Marvel Universe, But All the Heroes Are Women?-Chapter 93: Hunger Like the Storm

[Carnage’s POV]
The stench of unwashed bodies and desperation clogs my nostrils as I settle into the rigid plastic chair. The New York Public Library hums with quiet activity around my stolen form, this frail, weathered vessel I've claimed after weeks of desperate survival.
Jumping from rats to pigeons to stray cats was exhausting. Each pathetic creature barely sustained me, their weak bodies failing under my power within hours. But this homeless woman? She was perfect, weak-minded, physically deteriorated, and utterly alone. No one notices when she shambles through doors, no one questions when she mutters to herself.
I tap the chewed pen against my host's chin, feeling the brittle bones beneath paper-thin skin. The list before me is disappointingly short.
People Strong Enough to Kill Venom and Take Shane.
1. Galacta.
My symbiotic substance ripples beneath the woman's skin with frustration. One name isn't enough. I need options, contingencies. My mother has grown too powerful, too protective of what should be mine.
"Who else, who else?" I mutter, ignoring the concerned glance from a library patron at the next table.
I scrawl another name. Dr. Doom.
Two names. Still not enough. I need someone who can match Venom's raw strength but possess the intelligence to separate her from Shane. Someone who understands the value of what I'm seeking.
The homeless woman's stomach growls painfully. These human vessels with their constant needs, so inconvenient. But I must maintain this host until I find someone stronger, someone worthy of carrying me into battle against my traitorous offspring.
My thoughts drift to Shane, his perfect body, the golden energy that pulses through him. The way his fear tasted when I briefly touched his mind. So delicious, so pure. And now he's manifested demonic abilities? The power we could wield together would be unimaginable.
A sudden burst of laughter escapes my throat, echoing through the hushed library. The sound surprises even me, high-pitched, maniacal, eerily familiar. Several patrons turn to stare at my decrepit host body with mixtures of fear and disgust.
My laughter dies abruptly. That wasn't my laugh. That was... Norma's laugh. The Goblin's insufferable cackle, perfectly replicated through this pathetic woman's vocal cords.
I run my host's cracked fingernails across the paper, feeling an uncomfortable weight settle in her fragile chest. The irony isn't lost on me. After such a short amount of time I still feel pieces of her within me.
"Why her?" I whisper, ignoring the librarian's warning glance. "Why Mother?"
The question burns through me like acid, corroding what little patience remains. Shane embraced Venom so readily, so completely. My progenitor, who betrayed me, who has everything I deserve.
Yet when I offered myself to Shane, offered him power beyond imagination, he recoiled. Only his love for venom shined through.
The homeless woman's thin fingers crush the pen, black ink spilling across her yellowed skin like symbiotic tendrils.
The rage builds until I can no longer contain it. "I'LL SHOW HIM WHAT TRUE LOVE FEELS LIKE!" I shriek, the homeless woman's voice cracking under the strain of my fury.
"Ma'am, you need to leave. Now." The librarian stands over me, her face pinched with annoyance and poorly concealed fear.
I hardly spare the librarian a glance as I extend my arm forward, stretching it from my host's frail body, transforming into a jagged crimson spike that pierces directly through her chest. Her eyes widen in shock as my weaponized limb impales her heart with surgical precision.
The woman slides down my elongated arm, her body twitching as life drains from her. Blood blooms across her blouse like an obscene flower, dripping onto the polished library floor. The patrons around us freeze in horror, their screams caught in their throats as they process the violence unfolding before them.
I tilt my host's weathered head, studying the librarian's face as her eyes begin to glaze over.
"Hey," I ask conversationally, leaning closer to her dying form, "who do you think is the strongest superhero?"
Her lips quiver, trying to form words that won't come as blood bubbles between them. I give her a moment, watching with detached fascination.
"Wait," I add with a thoughtful hum, "or maybe supervillain? Doesn't really matter which side they're on, to be honest."
She doesn't answer, of course. Her body goes slack as the last breath escapes her lungs. I retract my arm, letting her corpse collapse in an undignified heap on the floor.
People around me erupt in screams, the quiet library suddenly transformed into chaos. Chairs scrape across the floor as patrons flee in terror, their faces twisted in horror. My stomach clenches with a hunger so profound it borders on agony. These fragile humans, pumping with adrenaline and fear, they're perfect.
"So delicious," I purr, rising from my chair as my gaze locks on two middle-aged men frozen in panic near the reference desk.
They look particularly nourishing, one plump with a well-fed vitality, the other lean but muscular. Both vibrating with such exquisite terror. My host's frail body lurches forward with unnatural speed as my crimson tendrils explode from her withered arms, snaring my chosen meals before they can escape.
"Please! Oh God, please!" one of them begs as I drag them closer, their heels scraping uselessly against the polished floor.
I feel my host's jaw unhinge, her weathered face splitting as my true form emerges. The symbiote spreads across her head, transforming it into a nightmare of glistening crimson, needle-sharp teeth, and an impossibly wide maw. The men's screams reach a perfect pitch as I open wide, wider than any human mouth could stretch.
The first one slides down my throat whole, his expensive suit doing nothing to slow his descent. His bones crunch pleasantly as my body crushes and absorbs him. The second follows immediately after, his desperate prayers cut short as my jaws snap closed around his kicking legs.
The sensation is euphoric, their life force, their very essence flowing into me, strengthening this pathetic host body if only temporarily. I can taste their memories, their hopes, their fears. So much more satisfying than the rats and pigeons that barely kept me alive these past weeks.
When I'm finished, I let out a contented sigh, my form slowly receding back into the homeless woman's body. The library has emptied completely now, alarms blaring in the distance. I reach down and carefully retrieve my list from the bloodstained table, folding it neatly before tucking it into my tattered coat pocket.
"I suppose I'll have to find somewhere else to continue my research."