-What if- what if- what if it's because of the incident?! It has to be! They're gonna fire you for sure!- A voice chittered nervously and irritably. She shifted an eyebrow with disinterest, pursing her lips as she shut the noise out.
-Y-you worked so hard, but they're gonna get rid of you! You know what they do when they get rid of people! Oh no! Oh no!- Her brow furrowed in annoyance as the tall, flame-haired woman chastised herself for letting it get to her.
~Sooo wrong it's ridiculous! You're the best this company has! Besides, they're called The LIFE foundation!~ Said another, confidence oozed from the words.
-No, no, it's the end! They want rid of you, they hate you!- Her hands balled into fists and her nails dug into her palms, she hated this kind of talk but the feeling... the feeling lingered.
'I don't know... God, this waiting's killing me!' She thought to herself with agitation, casting her head back as she filled her lungs, striding forwards a couple of paces before turning. The door she waited by remained sealed, silence beyond.
-No, no you have to listen! You have to be ready! I KNOW what happens! I KNOW!- Was that true? Were they out to get her all along? Would THIS be the moment they would strike?!
~Come ooon! That's total shit and you know it! You have to remember who you are! What you have done for them! They love you!~ Came almost seductively whispered tributes of words in the brutally-styled industrial corridor.
'What the hell is taking so long?!' She asked herself, trying to clear her head.
-Oh god! A firing squad! They're preparing a firing squad! What else would take this long?!- It wasn't just the words that irked her, but the skittish, believable passion. Everything she heard made a dent and she wasn't lacking for those already.
~Seriously?! A firing squad? Come ooon, it's the twenty-first century!~
'Both of you... just shut the fuck up!' She took a moment and screwed up her face 'I'm talking to them again...' She shook her head as if to rattle something out, 'They're NOT real! Do NOT listen!' She coached with a satisfied grin.
Footsteps echoed within.
-Oh no! This is it! They're gonna try to kill you, Donna! Don't let them!-
'They're NOT real!' She repeated.
The soft blue-light glow illuminated the webbed design of his mask in the waning light of evening; a digitised facsimile of words spoke to the man perched precariously on the lip of a building.
He smiled though she couldn't see it "Sure. I'm just gonna do one quick sweep then I'll be there." He listened for a few moments as he voice changed into something altogether more beckoning, "Ooookay, scrap that: NYPD step up to the plate! Spider-Man is coming home!"
The sound of laughter from the phone was drowned out by whistling wind as the inhumanly lithe man pounced into the sky, making his "love-you"s to his partner and swinging into the night.
Maybe it was the boyish excitement of what was awaiting him, but Spider-Man felt buoyant; the city seemed so beautiful as the artificial lights pockmarking the dark, looming monoliths of buildings spread and multiplied.
It made a nice change to be able to swing so lackadaisically about; no disaster to avert, no big-bad chewing up a neighbourhood. He felt like stealth itself in the descending darkness; it felt good.
He was shaken from his meditative state by the sense of vibration in his pocket. Freeing up one hand he reached for it; nothing, no messages. With a shrug, he put it away.
"Must be feeling thing-?" Again, only this time he definitely heard his text tone. Given his history and all he'd seen, when he found no notifications a second time, his mind turned to the kind of foreboding a run in with a crackpot like Mysterio might offer. He REALLY didn't have the patience for that right now!
Flipping thrice to land on a billboard he double checked he hadn't missed anything; it had nothing to say... for a moment. Spidey swallowed hard as his phone grew a mind of its own, throwing every ring tone and alert in its memory at him.
"Whaaat theee?" He asked the excitedly vibrating, pinging and flashing device as he checked the back. It danced its dance, sung its song and then - just as it had begun - it stopped. Except now there was a call, a call that had answered itself and on speaker-phone he heard her shriek.
Spinning it around as the call ended he was met with two words for a split second before the light went out: "Iiii'm baaack!"
The handle beside her rattled, twisted and the door swung open as if thrown by a hurricane. Beyond stood a tall, medium-built man with alopecia for facial-hair and a demeanour of grim determination.
"Diego! Come on in." He drawled his words, not even making eye-contact as he disappeared again; another part of his erratic appeal.
-He'll be the one to do it! He's always feared you, always felt threatened!- The moaning never ended, but it seemed so plausible; her direct superior was well aware of everything she stood to take from him. If anyone wanted her gone...
~And so he should! You've always been better than him, ALWAYS!~ The confident voice boasted as proudly as ever.
She loosened up her shoulders and strolled into the well-furnished office beyond. Well furnished, she had come to appreciate, took on a whole new meaning down here: everything was steel and concrete, hence the faintest sign of wood or colour was extravagance.
"Take a seat." Donna approached the near side of the desk. The face she delivered to the outside world was one of consummate ease, of cool under pressure and she showed it to her superior officer. She wore a winner's smirk even as she sank into the chair and feeling like she were being swallowed whole.
She watched her boss with outward curiosity and inward terror as he paced around behind his desk for a moment. Quite visibly thinking as though he were alone in the room, his eyes up to the ceiling as he formed his words.
~Not exactly beaming with joy, is he? Bet it's the promotion! You should probably sit in the other chair, it'll be yours soon!~ The woman opened her mouth as if to speak, but held her words in.
"Now, Donna..." He said, finally turning.
"Carl?" She encouraged, unflappable at a glance
-That expression... is he usually this tense? He's not normally this tense! He's up to something!- Arguments and counter-arguments ricocheted around her head so loudly she had to struggle to hear him continue.
"Let me get to it: Whatever we may think of one-another, I can't deny you're the best I've got... and I've got some damn good people down there!" He made eye-contact and evidently wished he hadn't, her almost ferocious green eyes ate into him with something unspeakable behind them.
Her tiny smile cracked into a beaming grin of pride, "Thankyou, sir." She extolled, lapping the praise up.
Carl broke away for a moment, sitting and opening a folder, flicking through to what he was looking for.
"That's why we have some... important details to discuss." He glanced up from the papers; Donna caught a glimpse of stuff about an incident earlier in the day, it had to come up sooner or later...
His arms actually hurt. He'd been at the wrong end of town for a web-sprint home and yanking every chord strained even super-powered muscles. He was sweating, furious, driven.
Spying his house as he rounded the bend he didn't stop to be discreet, change somewhere quiet and walk in; he barely even stopped before crashing through the bedroom window.
Within, the room was lit only by the blank screen of Mary Jane's computer on the desk; the lights were out and the only sound was that of a terrified crying. Spider-Man rushed to his love and slung himself down next to her, curled into a foetal position against the wall.
"MJ! Emjayemjaymj! I'm here, what happened? What did it do to you?" He tried to soothe her, she seemed to be in one piece - physically at least. He was one third relieved, a third furious and the rest? Just as afraid as her...
"P... P-P-P- Peter? I-I saw it! I saw it! On the screen!" Her hair was messy as if she'd been tearing at it and her eyes were shot full of wide-eyed terror. It wanted him and coming after MJ, it was gonna GET HIM!
"It's alright! It's alright, I'm here... I'll sort it." He clutched her shaking form for a moment and calmed her, gritting his teeth angrily.
He knew. He knew from the moment he saw the words on his phone who he'd be dealing with. As he rose to approach the computer he began to steel himself for a world of hurt.
He knew his old black suit, now coaxing others into becoming his terrifying doppelgänger, Venom, was alive and sentient. He knew it was even capable of playing tricks on his mind, but he'd also seen it grow and adapt in ways he could never foresee; what was its trick to TRY and kill him this time?
There was no sign of his arch-enemy in the room; it hadn't been here. He could feel MJ rise with him, gently touching his arm until he was out of reach as she stayed fixed to the wall.
He crept.
Slowly.
Poised.
Watching the blue screen that filled the room with light.
Almost there, poised for a jump scare his spider-sense couldn't warn him of.
"MJ-" He reached towards her. "MJ?" He turned to look, she was gone.
He turned back to the screen as it thrust out a lean, slick black hand that snatched him by the face.
"So I've got two reasons for calling you in here, Diego..."
-Two? Here's a medal... and a KNIFE in the back!- She almost twitched in dissatisfaction, angrily forcing that voice out of her head.
"Firstly... and most obviously... The incident today involving the specimen. I want YOUR version!" He forced the issue upon her.
"Alright: at 11:47AM I received word from the guards on duty around the containment facility-"
"YOUR... guards."
-Oh! Oh! Here we go! He's gonna put this all on you!-
"Yes... SIR... They were answerable to ME." Her tone carried the intended measure of spite. "-I received word that a catastrophic failing of the field holding the specimen had allowed it to escape. By the time I reached the Laboratory two of MY guards were dead and the creature seemed to be violently thrashing around free from its bindings."
"The report I have here says that without you three scientists wouldn't have made it out of there in one piece, your version?"
~Heroic saviour of the all important egg-heads, naturally!~
"Well that's fairly succinct. I saved them, end of." She simply responded, Carl almost dumbfounded by the bald-faced arrogance of the remark.
"God-damn, Diego... What, you want a ticker-tape parade? Considering two of your guards died today that's pretty brash!" Donna rolled her eyes and cast back her head.
"Have you looked at the pictures, chief? That black goo tore Briggs' spinal chord clean out of her! O'Shea... well... there are bits of him in places the cleaning staff might never reach! Not sure what I could have done for them." She admitted, eyeing her boss suspiciously, calculating what he could be lining up for.
"What's happening with the bodies?" He asked, at least trying to disperse a little of the tension.
"As per the policy on those directly affected by specimens, their bodies were immediately quarantined and subsequently incinerated at seventeen hundred hours. Case closed. Are we done?" Her CO almost collapsed like an ill-prepared cake.
"Diego... they were people for fuck's sake! Don't you have ANY modicum of human feeling left inside you? They were torn to shreds! In seconds! God DAMNIT, Diego, they were YOUR people! YOUR team!" He hammered the desk with his balled up fist.
~What a pity, never mind. Yawn!~ She wouldn't lose sleep over it, they were just people.
"Yes, sir, I do care. Briggs was a good combatant and O'Shea was as vigilant as any man I've ever met." Carl gawked at her.
"Seriously?!" He asked simply and shook it off with some odd amusement, "Has anyone ever told you... that you're a bit... cold, Donna?" He asked in an off-the-cuff kind of way.
-He reeeally doesn't like you!-
"If I MAY speak plainly..." Her boss offered an affable expression, inviting her to do so. "The loss of life in a high-risk security operation has to be prepared for both mentally and strategically: I don't believe for a second that I could efficiently manage security down there if I were to – as you put it – "care" for my personnel!" She was getting riled up, a cool head was never one of her strengths.
He took a moment to think, collapsing back into his chair. "That's... fair enough I guess." He stood, stepping to the side of his chair and turned his back. "Now..."
Donna huffed in agitation, 'I'm sick of answering to this clown!' She thought but spared him another glance and followed the flight of a second folder that hit the desk in front of her.
"The second reason I called you in." She took it and opened it with wide-eyed astonishment.
~Oh YES!~ -Nonono!- 'This can't be right!'