A/N: This is based in the movieverse and will basiclly tell a different (I hope) story of NormanOsborns survival that was done in the comics. This will also link up with the final few scenes of the second movie.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters who are owned by Marvel.
SHADOW OF EVIL
THE PAST.
"Peter, Peter stop it's me" he held out his hand to try and stop the enraged teen his fist cocked ready to deliver the next blow.
Peter stared down at him anger flashing through his eyes coupled with something else, confusion. Norman Osborn lifted his hands up the green and now scuffed demonic mask on his head, with it removed he stared wild eyed at Peter Parker, dressed in a tattered Spider-man costume.
Peter lowered his fist as he realised who it was, who it was who had been taunting him, who it was who had attempted to kill the love of his life Mary-Jane Watson.
"Mr Osborn. You killed those people on that Balcony"
"I didn't kill those people the goblin did; please don't let it take me again. Please I beg you protect me" He pleaded fear etched upon his face.
"You tried to Kill Aunt May, you tried to Kill Mary-Jane" The young man argued
"But not you" Osborn's hand moved slowly towards the gauntlet of the power-armour he wore. "I tried to stop it, but I couldn't. Peter I would never hurt you" He pressed a button and carried on speaking.
"I knew if anything happened to me, I could count on you." Behind Peter the glider rose silently, deadly like a predator waiting to pounce.
"You Peter Parker would save me and so you have. Thank god for you" Osborn began to slowly push himself to his feet his arm out stretched.
"Give me you hand, believe in me as I believe in you. I've been like a father to you, be a son to me now"
Peter stood there almost perplexed, could this really have been the same man who seconds ago had tried to kill him, kill his loved ones and killed those people on the balcony.
"I had a father..." he replied determination across his face "his name was Ben Parker"
Osborn laughed; his face seemed to mirror the mask lying on the floor.
"Godspeed Spider-man" he laughed as the spear on the glider deployed. Parker's eyes opened wide as his spider-sense kicked in. The Glider rushed forward, but in a show of acrobatic ability Peter jumped into the air as the glider crashed through the already destroyed wall behind him. The glider rushed forward no Peter to stop it, all Osborn could do was mutter one word.
"Oh"
The glider crashed into him impaling him against the wall causing massive internal injuries, he screamed in Pain spitting blood all over the glider impaling his body. His eyes moved to where Peter crouched on top of a pile of rubble.
"Peter" he stared "Please Don't tell Harry" and with those words he collapsed.
The Cemetery
The ceremony for Norman Osborn was small and private. Few people attended only those most close to him. Including one Peter Parker, He stood next to Harry Osborn, anger etched on the young man's face in the belief that Spider-man had killed his father.
"I'm sorry Harry; I know what it's like to lose a father"
"I didn't lose him he was stolen from me by Spider-man, I swear on my father's grave Spider-man will pay" he turned and ironically left Spider-man to watch him leave. As Peter turned and walked past the grave being steadily filled in, a small tingle of his Spider-sense went off, however Peter ignored it and moved on onto more pressing matters.
That Night.
The cemetery was silent as the grave. Three young teenagers climbed over the wrought iron fencing and made their way quietly towards the newest grave. The grave of Norman Osborn.
They stood over the grave for a few seconds, they varied in age with the youngest being 16 and slightly built, his hair was done in a small green Mohawk and several piercings adorned his face. The largest of the three was 18, he was well built with a mane of brown hair, and he grinned at the final member revealing the silver teeth he had.
The final member was also 18, she walked with a strange grace, smiling back at the large boy, and she moved closer and kissed his cheek, she turned back to the grave causing her purple hair to dance in the moonlight.
The 16 year old turned to the older boy.
"Are you sure we should be doing this Dom. I mean it was Norman Osborn" he whispered.
"Simon, what did he do to your family? He fired your dad and what happened then your dad killed himself, he fired my dad who sits around in a drunken stupor all day. The bastard deserves worse" Dom growled.
"Yeah but…" Simon began to argue.
"Will you two quit arguing and get this over with. This place gives me the creeps; you heard what the papers say?" The girl spoke and huddled into her leather jacket
"Please 'R' don't tell me you believe in that "Demon Biker" crap the Bugle spouts" Dom laughed at his girlfriend.
"It's Ghost Rider, Dom and he's real I saw him riding down fifth and main" Simon spoke up
"Shut up, Midget, let's get this done" Dom pulled several spray cans from his jacket and shook them one at a time before selecting one and beginning to spray some sort of slogan on the headstone.
"Thud"
Dom stopped his work and looked around.
"Did you hear that?" he asked the other two.
"Hear what Dom?" 'R' asked sound almost bored.
"Banging"
"Dom stop pissing about" 'R' warned him
"I'm not pissing about I heard something I swear" he stated angrily.
"Thud"
"Shit I heard that" Simon's body now resembled the white marble headstone on which he lent.
Two more thuds and the three pinpointed where the sound was coming from and all three stared at it in horror.
The grave of Norman Osborn.
"No. We're imagining things, there's no noise from that grave" R began to back away when a final thud followed by the splintering of wood could be heard. Her legs stopped frozen as the earth on top of the grave began to drop downwards forming a small pit. All three stood frozen in Horror as something fought its way through the earth.
Simon screamed as an outstretched hand burst out the dirt and began flexing, another hand burst through the ground by it but by that time the three teenager were long gone only to be called delusional vandals by their peers.
If they had stayed around they would have seen the supposedly dead body of Norman Osborn drag its way out of the grave, and kneels by the headstone as it takes it's first breath of fresh air in hours.
"Perfect"
