Jazzy is about to succumb to the blissful lure of sleep when her phone goes off, two tones overlapping each other, an alarm and her usual ringtone when someone calls her. Jazzy groans and turns over, grabbing her phone from its charger and answering the call.
“What?” she says, too annoyed to be polite.
“Jazzy, turn on the news,” Eddie tells her, just as crass.
“Can’t I after I sleep?”
“It’s important,” he states firmly.
Jazzy groans again. “Fine.”
“Wake up Harry if you have to.”
“That important?” Jazzy wonders as she swings herself out of the plush bed, immediately heading to Harry’s bedroom.
“Yes, that important.”
Jazzy enters Harry’s room to find him talking on the phone as well, but most likely with Peter and not having just been forced into full consciousness. “Eddie says we gotta watch the news,” she states, sitting down on the couch and grabbing the remote.
“Why?” Harry responds.
“It’s just that important apparently,” she says, then switches her phone to speaker, “right Eddie?”
Harry joins her on the couch, putting his own phone on speaker. “Say hi, Peter,” he says.
“Hey, Jazzy,” Peter’s voice responds.
“Hi Pete,” Jazzy says, switching the channel to one of the news outlets. There’s a shot from a helicopter circling around San Quentin Prison. “This isn’t interesting, Eddie.” Then the helicopter gets to the other side. “Oh, shit, nevermind.”
“Uh-huh,” Eddie replies.
“Oh my god,” Harry mutters.
“What?” Peter asks.
Half of one of the prison walls is blown away, rubble tumbling down the cliff with red glistening against the bricks. Jazzy knows immediately that it’s blood. Her eyes slowly travel to the bottom of the screen.
BREAKING NEWS: INFAMOUS SERIAL KILLER CLETUS KASADY ESCAPES FROM SAN QUENTIN STATE PRISON.
Scrolls across the screen against a bright red background. Jazzy’s breath hitches and it takes her a moment to realize the TV is muted.
“Cletus Kasady got out,” Harry says in response to Peter’s question.
“Oh my god,” Peter says.
“Yeah,” Harry breathes.
Jazzy unmutes the TV. “--according to the guards at the prison. For those of you just tuning in, Cletus Kasady has broken out of San Quentin State Penitentiary as of an hour ago. There were several casualties of both guards and other prisoners. A warning to our more sensitive viewers, we are about to play actual footage from the security cameras at the time of Kasady’s escape.”
“Weren’t you there earlier?” Jazzy asks Eddie.
“Yeah,” Eddie confirms. “I left thirty minutes before he got out.”
“Benii3itowoo,” Jazzy mutters.
The footage changes, switching to a black and white video that Jazzy assumes is from the security cameras. At first it just shows Kasady sitting in his cell, apparently muttering to himself. A guard enters the screen, holding a plate of food in one hand as he unlocks the first gate to Kasady’s cell. A grotesque grin spreads across the murderer’s face. Kasady stands up and faces the guard. His straight jacket rips, and he grabs the guard by the neck through the bars. Flashing lights fill the area as the prison alarms go off. Kasady snaps the guard’s neck, dropping the body as his own is enveloped in what appears to be some sort of slime materializing from nowhere. The material transforms his features, increasing his height and turning his face into something similar to Venom’s. He becomes thinner than Venom and lighter in color with black instead of white streaks. Kasady, or rather Venomous Kasady, rips off the bars of his cell and lifts the dead guard, biting his head off. He dashes out into the rest of the prison. The video ends and changes to a newscaster sitting behind a desk, worry etched across her face.
“Why the fuck did he look kind of like Venom?” Jazzy asks, turning the TV off.
Eddie makes a strangled sort of noise. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. It shouldn’t be possible.” Jazzy hears a low rumble come from his side of the call. “I want you two to only go outside if absolutely necessary, especially you Jazzy.”
“I agree,” Peter states.
“Yeah, I’ve got no problem with that,” Harry replies.
“I do,” Jazzy protests. “You both know me, I can’t just...not do anything about this!”