All characters appearing in Spider-Man are copyrighted to Marvel Entertainment and Stan Lee. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. All original characters are the property of TVfan.
Note: this story is a sequel to my "A New Life" story, and begins a few days after it.
All the King's Men
By TVfan
Chapter 4: Scrier's Revenge
Fisk's Hotel Room
"Who's the zombie?" Arachne asked as she looked at the newcomer to the fight, a man with pale white skin and wearing a black hooded robe.
"That would be a Scrier," Spider-Man answered, "Never fully understood why he calls himself that, although it was the clone Spider-Man that had more run ins with this guy then I did."
"Did he tell you anything?" Arachne asked she backed toward her partner, to make sure Fisk didn't try anything.
"Largely that they're better fighters then they look, and that there is more then one of them," Spider-Man answered as he faced the Scrier completely.
"So he's got an army behind him?" Arachne questioned.
"The Brotherhood of Scriers is made up of many men and women dedicated to our great cause," Scrier said, "But I am the only Scrier in New York City at present. Not that your interference in our affairs will go unpunished."
"Since when did you dabble in organized crime?" Spider-Man questioned, "You never seemed the type to make people an 'offer'."
"My association with Fisk is purely for the purpose of attaining more important matters," Scrier answered, "What he does in the criminal underworld is of no concern to me or to my brotherhood."
"At least you have your priorities straight," Spider-Man commented and leaped into the air towards Scrier, intending to knock the guy to the ground, "Would you mind telling me what your purpose for being here is?"
Scrier sidestepped Spider-Man's attack and unleashed a kick while the hero was still in midair, throwing him against the wall.
"Ow," Spider-Man grumbled as he got back up.
"There is no need for violence," Scrier answered, "Since you have already defeated Fisk, I might as well explain…"
"I am hardly defeated," Fisk growled from his position, although he had made no move to advance on Arachne.
"Your prized assassin is webbed to the floor and your enforcers are out cold in the bathroom and you're facing two super powered vigilantes," Scrier answered, "I would hardly call your position victorious."
"If you two are done bickering like an old married couple," Arachne spoke up, "Either fight or talk."
Scrier nodded, "I am here because of matters relating to a certain Norman Osborn."
"Osborn!" Spider-Man gasped, "I should have known he was behind all this somehow. But what is he up to? He was part of the reason why Fisk was locked up, although he worked in the shadows. Why would he put Fisk back as the Kingpin?"
The Scrier reached inside his robes and pulled out several glass spheres and threw them at both Spider-Man and Arachne. Both heroes leaped away on reflex and clung to the wall closest to them, while Fisk took a few steps back himself. None of the glass spheres hit anyone, but they did release a gas upon shattering on the floor. The gas quickly flooded the lungs of both Spider-Man and Arachne. Fisk had managed to get far enough away so that the gas didn't touch him.
Scrier then watched as Spider-Man tried to talk back, but found that his tongue wouldn't work.
"My explanation will go by a lot easier if I don't have to deal with your interruptions," Scrier answered.
Scrier then cleared his throat and began to explain.
"First of all, Norman Osborn has played no part in the planning of this operation," the Scrier said slowly, "He is the reason I am here, but I am not here on his orders. I was sent here by the Headmaster of the Brotherhood of Scriers with explicit orders to see that Norman Osborn dies."
Both the eye pieces in Spider-Man's and Arachne's masks widened in surprise, although neither could formulate their surprise in words.
Elsewhere
"You want us to fight the Kingpin?" the chief lieutenant of one of the minor crime families on the northeast side of Manhattan, "Buddy, he's got his empire back and took out half of the crime families in New York to get it."
"That is exactly why you should fight," Bookkeeper answered, "He's likely to make sure he has no opposition. He'll come after you again."
"Listen buddy," the man said, "Silvermaine is dead. Hammerhead is in the hospital. Fortunato's been bullied into being quiet. I meanwhile have to work to establish myself as the replacement for the leader of my own mob here. And by the way, the Kingpin already whacked the guy I'm trying to replace."
"There will be no balance if you allow Fisk to regain his power," Bookkeeper answered, "He will force you to pay him. Can't you remember when you and every other small family had to pay Fisk money to keep him from destroying you?"
"So how do you propose we deal with the super freaks that the Kingpin has working for him?" the man countered, "I know about the strike he launched against the Owl's little meeting. The Enforcers aren't easy to deal with in any situation."
"The Enforcers are not super powered," Bookkeeper answered, "And there is no superhero or super villain that is immortal."
"Yeah, but the Kingpin always retains a group of real super freaks for the real big stuff," the man argued, "I don't want to start a war with a guy who can send in some super strong who is practically impervious to bullets, or a guy who teleport in and out before we could even notice."
"Sometimes risks must be taken," Bookkeeper answered, "I'm not saying that we challenge the Kingpin directly. At least not yet. I still have to reorganize what little remains of the Owl's organization. But if we can harass the Kingpin and prevent him from strengthening his position that would be the best thing until I can get the Owl's organization running again and convince Fortunato to return to the fold."
"Harass the Kingpin, eh?" the man commented, "I won't promise anything, but that might work."
"Thank you," Bookkeeper answered, "That is all that I'm asking. I'll be in touch."
Bookkeeper then turned and slowly walked out of the small room that he had met this small group of gangsters in. Once the door was shut, one of the new leader's lieutenants turned to face the new leader with a rather questioning look on his face.
"Are you really going to harass the Kingpin's men?" the lieutenant asked nervously.
"To help that desperate dweeb?" the man answered, "Of course not. We'll pay the Kingpin the same fee as before and stay out of his way."
Bookkeeper, meanwhile, just got outside the small shop when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and lifted into the air. He was surprised beyond belief that he had come under attack from someone, and he prayed that the Kingpin hadn't found out about his mission from the Owl already.
"Please don't kill me!" Bookkeeper pleaded.
Before he blacked out, Bookkeeper heard his assailant answer, "Kill you? I have great need of you alive for the time being. Why would I kill you?"
Fisk's Hotel Room
"You see, my arachnophile heroes, the Brotherhood of Scriers is a very tight knit organization and anyone who betrays us in any manner is subject to the harshest of punishments," Scrier continued his explanation, "and Norman Osborn has betrayed the Brotherhood of Scriers. It is as simple as that."
"Buh… he… wauh…yuh…le…duh…" Spider-Man managed to mumble out, but he still hadn't managed to gain control of his tongue.
"Only of a small branch of the Brotherhood of Scriers," Scrier answered, "In terms of the entire organization, Osborn was a very small fish in a much bigger ocean then he thought. It all began shortly after your great encounter on the George Washington Bridge, involving a young Miss Stacy…"
Paris, France, the Past
Norman Osborn slowly walked into the small mansion that he had long owned, even before he became the Green Goblin. However, for the time being he was relatively frustrated. His latest attempt to defeat Peter Parker: Spider-Man had failed miserably. While he was glad that he had managed to knock the webslinger's girlfriend off of the top of the bridge, which resulted in her death, the end result of that battle had not been to his liking. Instead of being weakened to the point where he would just surrender, Spider-Man took strength from the incident and practically beat him senseless. Then, the hero's infernal danger sense allowed him to avoid the goblin glider which had seemingly killed Norman. Norman remembered waking up a few days later inside a casket and underground, but completely healed from his previous injuries. He then fled the country so that Spider-Man wouldn't catch on that he was alive.
The night before, Norman began one of the many revenge plots he had running through his mind as he recovered the 'orphaned' children of Gwen Stacy that he himself had conceived not more then nine months ago. They would fight and defeat Spider-Man if he couldn't, as he had no faith that Harry would be successful, although he did suspect that his oldest son would try and follow in his footsteps. Harry would have to do until these twins were ready or until he had thought of a better plan.
"A better plan," Osborn mumbled to himself as he stood alone in the dark kitchen of the mansion, "How am I to get a better plan when I'm here? How did I even lose the last battle? How could that scrawny boy beat me?!"
Osborn sighed and then leaned against the counter and wiped the seat from his brow. He knew that screaming at the walls wouldn't help him recover in any fashion. For the time being, his only option was to lie low for a while. He needed to recover his own physical strength, and even with the growth acceleration drugs that he would soon begin pumping into the children he had sired in Gwen Stacy, he would be busy in Europe for the foreseeable future.
"I will need better intelligence for the future," Osborn mumbled to himself again as he began to make his way toward his bedroom, "I will need someway to keep an eye on both Harry and on Spider-Man."
He was halfway up the stairs when he saw a dark figure in the shadows. He blinked and looked at the spot harder, but found the area to be empty. He shrugged and went upstairs to his bead.
Catacombs, Half an Hour later
The local Scrier agent walked silently through the maze of underground sewers, catacombs and tunnels that was underneath the city of Paris. The Scrier then came to one relatively small open area that in medieval times had been an area where the people would bring the bodies of their deceased to be placed. There were three other Scriers waiting for him.
"Master," the Scrier spoke, "the one from your visions has arrived."
"The American?" the physically largest Scrier questioned.
"Yes," the Scrier answered, "He is concerned about some 'scrawny teen', as well as persons named 'Harry' and 'Spider-Man'."
"Spider-Man is one of the many active superheroes that have taken residence in the largest city in North America," the large Scrier answered, "I doubt that 'Spider-Man' is his real name."
"The American did not say his name, Master," the Scrier answered.
"Did he see you?" the large Scrier questioned.
"No, Master," the Scrier answered.
"The chief priests of the Brotherhood want to test my visions," the large Scrier announced, "In the near future, you are to show yourself to this American and slowly lead him here."
"But if I do so, and your visions are fulfilled, you will be killed and this American will be the new leader of the Brotherhood of Scriers in France," the Scrier answered, "And according to your vision, this American doesn't believe in the great Scrier."
"That does not change our fellowship to the Great Scrier," the large Scrier answered, "All our visions that show us the future are the Great Scrier's will. If my vision means my death, then it is the Great Scrier's will that this American become the local leader. Never forget that the Great Scrier is more important then any of us as individuals."
"Of course, Master," the Scrier answered as the others nodded in agreement.
Fisk's Hotel Room, Present
"The rest is all history," Scrier finished, "I showed myself to Osborn and lead him to my local leader. The two dueled and Osborn won the duel, although it was by the skin of his teeth."
The Scrier then paused for a moment while Spider-Man moved to stand by Arachne.
"Osborn then sent us to serve as his eyes and ears in New York," Scrier then continued to explain, "we kept eyes on his son and on you. We were involved in the creation the 'clone' Spider-Man whom the Green Goblin would later kill. Any battle in which you fought against one of Norman Osborn's plans was organized by the Brotherhood of Scriers."
"Theeh… whueh… duh… yuh…wuh… tuh… ke… hmm?" Arachne mumbled, still wondering how the gas had somehow made her tongue go numb.
"Why do we want to kill him now?" Scrier repeated her question, "Ultimately, it is because of betrayal. Osborn betrayed the Brotherhood of Scriers, but even that story is a long one, and goes back originally to the Gathering of Five…"
Greece, the Past
"What is the purpose of these pieces?" one rather skinny Scrier questioned as he held up a box that was containing one of the pieces that Osborn had said he needed for the Gathering of Five in New York, "All of the texts on this say that the pieces are all semi-intelligent and can sense who is trying to gain what."
"They also say that the gifts of the Gathering are difficult to truly figure out," the lead Scrier answered, "But Osborn says that these pieces are critical in establishing his final battle against Spider-Man."
"Yes," another Scrier commented, "Something about wanting godhood or something. I think that he isn't fit to be our leader anymore. The Great Scrier is the only one of us that can claim 'godhood'."
The lead Scrier looked down for a moment as he remembered the promises that Osborn had made when he had defeated his first leader in the catacombs under Paris. Now as he lead two others out of the ruins of an Ancient Greek city, one far older then even the Acropolis in Athens, he began to have doubts as to his first leader's claim that the Great Scrier had willed that Osborn take over. The man had done many things that were contrary to the rules of the Brotherhood. So far, the worst had only been his refusal to change his name to 'Scrier' and dress as a Scrier and follow the Brotherhood's religious practices. But the third Scrier's suspicions did match with many of the things that the lead Scrier had learned from his visits with Osborn. The man was incredibly ambitious and ready to find some way to make himself invincible. A lot of that was contrary to the proper behavior of a Scrier, but he was bound to serve him.
"We must continue our mission," the lead Scrier answered, "Osborn is our leader. And while he does not follow the codes to the letter, we have grown more powerful under his leadership."
"Too bad you're all about to die," a voice cut them off before one of the other two Scriers could answer.
The lead Scrier looked up to see a man dressed in ragged clothing, as if it had been torn up and worn over and over again. He held two dead Scriers in his hands. His head and face was largely covered by rags and other pieces of cloth, but the lead Scrier could easily recognize who it was.
"Kaine!" the Scrier gasped.
"You will tell me the purpose that Osborn has sent you here," Kaine ordered.
"And why do you hunt us?" the lead Scrier questioned, "Shouldn't your opponent be Spider-Man?"
Kaine dropped the two Scriers that he had already killed and began to slowly advance on the three live Scriers.
"That part of my life is past," Kaine answered, "I am trying to atone for my past misdeeds, and Norman Osborn has caused the death of the one who has done the most to help me move toward redemption. I will not rest until I have squeezed the last breath of life from Norman Osborn."
"He isn't here," the thin Scrier said nervously as he clutched the box containing the piece to the Gathering of Five close to him.
"I know," Kaine answered as he continued to advance, "He is in New York, but I know that you have been his eyes and ears. I will never be able to beat him while you are around to warn him of danger. The plan is simple, no Scriers, no Osborn. In this way I can help another."
The lead Scrier struck first with a punch to Kaine's stomach and then a sweeping kick that took his feet out from under him.
"If you intend to fight, then I fear you will not last long," the lead Scrier answered, "You may have killed two Scriers, but we are three and you are one. You can not beat us all."
"Watch me," Kaine answered and grabbed the lead Scrier by the ankle and stood up.
Kaine then literally threw the lead Scrier out of the ancient ruins. He landed roughly one hundred yards away in the bright sunshine. He instantly began to run back toward the ruins that he and his comrades had just recovered the piece from. When he arrived, he found Kaine limping out of the ruins toward him and he was holding the box that contained the piece for the Gathering. Obviously his partners had managed to land a few serious blows on Kaine, but he had apparently killed them just as he had the original two.
"You survived," Kaine grumbled as he saw the lead Scrier.
"That box is the property of Norman Osborn," the Scrier said, "You have no right to it."
"Why don't you go away and tell your Master that you failed," Kaine suggested, "I've killed four of your little 'Brotherhood' already. I can make it an odd five easily."
"Failure is not an option," the Scrier answered, "That is the code of the Brotherhood of Scriers."
The Scrier then leaped into the air and delivered a kick to Kaine's collarbone, knocking the degenerating clone to the ground, and apparently breaking the bone after he heard a sick cracking sound. The clone also dropped the box he had taken from the thin Scrier and laid on the ground looking up at the Scrier that had just kicked him. The Scrier only picked up the box that Kaine had dropped and slowly left.
One Hour Later
The Scrier struggled out of the lifeboat and onto the private yacht belonging to one Alison Mongrain. The woman was obviously displeased by the arrival of the Scrier on her yacht.
"Has Osborn cooked up some new scheme to take over the world?" Mongrain questioned as the Scrier began to move toward the yacht's controls.
"All of Osborn's plans are progressing as planned," the Scrier answered, "But there have been some complications."
"Yes," Mongrain argued, "My yacht was not to be a Scrier base."
"If we do not leave, there is the concern that you won't live to see the world that Osborn will create," the Scrier answered, "The clone, Kaine, is lose has already killed four Scriers for this piece of Osborn's coming Gathering."
"And this concerns me, how?" Mongrain questioned.
"The fool probably believes the false rumors that Osborn has allowed to be leaked out and believes that you have the child that the Parker family recently lost," the Scrier answered.
"I delivered the poison that Osborn prescribed," Mongrain answered, "The child IS dead."
"Yes," the Scrier responded, "But Osborn ordered you to insure that the child would be stillborn to play his various psychological games with Spider-Man. He believes Spider-Man will kill himself looking for his 'supposedly' lost daughter."
There was a brief silence for a moment.
"Kaine appears to be following the same rules that Spider-Man would follow in the sense that he is attempting to foil all of Osborn's plans, and that may include recovering the child," the Scrier finished, "He will undoubtedly come after you, and unlike Spider-Man, Kaine has no qualms with killing an opponent."
"Fine," Mongrain grumbled, bumping the Scrier aside, "I'll head for Syracuse. If you've already escaped Kaine then we should have no need to worry about him catching up with us, and you can join up with a different band of Scriers there."
"Of course," the Scrier answered and went below decks, intending to make contact with Osborn.
Once he found a phone Scrier quietly dialed Osborn's phone number. Once Osborn answered, Scrier began his report.
"We've recovered the piece you requested," the Scrier reported, "Kaine has apparently taken a vow of vengeance against you, probably for the murder of Ben Reilly."
"But you recovered the piece?" Osborn asked over the phone.
"Yes," the Scrier answered.
"Then that is all that matters," Osborn answered, "You must return to New York at once. I must have all the pieces here and ready for the Gathering."
"Of course," the Scrier answered.
"Very soon, nothing will be able to stand in my way," Osborn said confidently over the phone, "Nothing."
The Scrier hung up his phone with some hesitation. Osborn's answer sounded exactly like his partner's premonitions. That Osborn was not going to follow the Great Scrier, but try and establish himself as a 'god' on earth. This was against the rules of the Brotherhood of Scriers, but he had no real proof and he would have to follow his leader.
Fisk's Hotel Room, Present
"But, in the end, you defeated Norman," the Scrier explained, "And the Gathering of Five only brought him madness, if he wasn't already mad."
Spider-Man and Arachne looked at each other, finding it hard to believe anything that the Scrier was saying.
"That was essentially the end of our association Norman Osborn," the Scrier continued, "While your victory made impossible for him to realize his plans and prevent him from breaking the rules of the Brotherhood of Scriers, it was the thing that made him break all ties with the Brotherhood, leaving us to fall to various law enforcement agencies…"
Osborn's Mansion, the Past
A group of Scriers stood over the twitching body of Norman Osborn as the man rolled around his bed, repeatedly mumbling, 'I beat him' over and over again. None of the present Scriers looked pleased.
"The master's plan has failed," one small Scrier commented.
"And gone of the deep end as a result," another Scrier added as Osborn continued rolling over and over in his bed, his bed sheets wrapping around him.
"We should be thankful that the curse he received from the gathering was madness," the lead Scrier said quietly, "We can counter madness. It is death that is permanent."
"Should we gather the materials to cure him of his madness then?" another Scrier asked.
The lead Scrier nodded and said slowly, "We will not last long without a leader to either give us direction or alert the order to other dangers. Begin gathering the necessary spell components."
Several Scriers then moved out of the room and went off to various sections of Osborn's mansion, intent on picking up the required pieces that would cure their leader of the madness that he had fallen into. The lead Scrier kept a slow watch over him. It took more then an hour to gather and assemble all the required spell requirements. Once that was done, Osborn seemed to calm down and fell into a deep sleep.
"Is he cured?" the small Scrier asked again.
"He's stopped talking," a second Scrier answered, "That must be a sign."
"Maybe he just wore himself out," another Scrier countered, "Shouldn't he have regained consciousness?"
"We'll know when he regains consciousness," the lead Scrier answered, "Go and make sure that Spider-Man does not make his way here."
The other Scriers nodded and left, leaving the lead Scrier to watch over Osborn. The man slept quiet peacefully for the duration of the night, and it wasn't until after the sun had risen that he had awakened.
"What happened?" Osborn asked as he slowly sat up.
"Your Gathering failed, Master," the Scrier answered, "It gave you the curse of madness rather then the gift of power."
"But I beat him…" Osborn said going back to his memories.
"You think you beat him," the Scrier answered, "The Brotherhood rescued you from both being insane and in an insane asylum."
"Thank you," Osborn said slowly eying the Scrier, "Did you take any steps to destroy Spider-Man?"
"We were earlier ordered not to interfere with your plans," the Scrier answered, "We only intervened after it was clear that you had lost and that you were in danger."
"Thank you," Osborn answered as he got up and began to make his way out of the room, "I'm going out for awhile. Please remain here until I tell you to leave."
The Scrier stood alone and quietly while Osborn then walked out. Half an hour later, the sound of police sirens came blaring toward the mansion. The noise attracted the Scrier's attention until the point as he watched four police cars park in front of Osborn's mansion. They quickly surrounded the mansion to make sure that no one could easily escape. Then a large looking officer pulled out a bullhorn, and began to give orders.
"Attention men in black robes," the officer screamed through the bullhorn, "This is the police. We have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up!"
The lead Scrier backed away from the window in total shock. No one knew that they had freed Osborn, let alone where they had gone with him. The pounding of footsteps soon alerted him to the fact that the other Scriers knew this also. The lead Scrier moved out of the outer room, to prevent anyone from being taken out by tear gas or any other weapon that the police might employ and moved to converse with the others.
"How can the police be here?" a large Scrier demanded, "We covered all our tracks."
"The only one who knew we were here was Osborn," another commented.
"He was on the phone with someone when he left," another Scrier brought up, "I didn't investigate because I didn't think it was serious at the time."
"He was on the phone?" the lead Scrier asked.
"Yes," the prior Scrier nodded, "I didn't hear what he was talking about, though."
The lead Scrier growled to himself and then decided to take command for himself. The group would need someone to get them out, and Osborn wasn't there to either voice his suggestion, his defense or anything else.
"We can not all stay here," the lead Scrier said, "Move in different directions and get out of here. We will meat in the old Osborn Industries docks on the west side and prepare to make our way back to Europe."
"Back to Europe?" a different Scrier questioned, "Shouldn't we simply find Osborn and get to a safe spot?"
"Yes, back to Europe," the lead Scrier said firmly, "Something tells me that Osborn is the reason why the police are here. As in he called the cops and sent them here."
"You mean he betrayed us?" a Scrier asked him.
"Precisely that," the lead Scrier answered.
Hidden Scrier Base, Two Weeks later
The prime Scrier council sat quietly in front of a large statue made to resemble the Great Scrier as they listened to 'lead' Scrier's report.
"You're saying that Osborn is the one who betrayed our order in New York?" the Chief of the Council asked.
"He is the only one that could have, my Lord," the 'lead' Scrier answered, "We do not know why, and anyone who has been sent to try and discover why he has betrayed us has not returned."
"The Brotherhood's rules on betrayal are simple," the Chief of the Council answered, "Osborn must die for his betrayal."
"Of course, my Lord," the 'lead' Scrier bowed.
Fisk's Hotel Room, Present
"And that is why we currently wish Osborn dead," the Scrier finished, "He has betrayed us and this is merely his punishment.
"Mah… tha… ith… ah… na…tee… ve…ge…sss… st… k…yuh… guh… goh… ging…" Spider-Man managed to mumble.
"How long is that gas supposed to last?" Fisk demanded, "I can't understand a word they're saying."
"A couple of hours," the Scrier answered, "It is easier this way as I am not having to explain over their interruptions. You were fortunate not to breathe in any yourself, as I'm sure our spandex wearing friends would like to know how you came into the picture."
"Yeth... we… wouhd…" Spider-Man mumbled.
"That part is relatively simple," the Scrier answered, "Soon after the order to kill Osborn was made, we began observing Osborn's behavior, but avoiding contact with him. Mostly to see if we could gain anyone to help us. We considered you, Spider-Man, as you have the strongest rivalry with Osborn in New York, but we decided against you in the end. Mostly because you would never kill Osborn, or you wouldn't simply beat him senseless and leave him for us to kill. So you were voted down."
"I… wouhd… ne…er… heh…p… yuh…" Spider-Man mumbled trying to sound angry.
"And that is why we voted you down," Scrier answered, "Then we noticed the paper trail that Osborn laid down behind the scenes to put Fisk in jail. We didn't know how this was to hurt you, but it gave us the primer opportunity to get someone who would help us kill Osborn and would have good reason to…"
Rikers Island, the Past
Fisk sat down quietly inside the small cell that he had been put in. It was actually a rather clean cell, and would have appeared to be like a college dormitory if it weren't for the fact that the door was made out of steel bars and steel bars covered the windows. He had just sat down on his bed to do some reading, when suddenly the window to his room was broken and a gas mask of all things was lying in the middle of his cell.
"What the?" Fisk mused aloud as guards came running.
"Get on the ground, Fisk," the guards ordered as they arrived.
"Gentlemen, I assure you I have done nothing," Fisk told the obviously nervous looking guards.
"Get on the ground!" the guard repeated.
There was the sound of more glass being broken echoing throughout that portion of the prison and the guard began to become extremely nervous and pulled his gun out on Fisk.
"Get on the ground!" the guard screamed.
Then, just as suddenly as everything else had begun happening, several glass spheres flew through the various broken windows and released a gas into that section of the prison. Fisk quickly grabbed the gas mask that had been thrown into his cell and fit it to his face and watched as the guard and the man in the cell across from him fell unconscious.
"What the devil is going on here?" Fisk demanded to no one as the gas dissipated.
A dark shadow slowly moved in front of Fisk's cell. The man wore a black robe and appeared to either be wearing a white mask or had very pale skin. He quickly reached down and picked the guard's keys and began unlocking Fisk's cell.
"Who are you?" Fisk demanded.
"One who is getting you out of here," the Scrier answered, "Do you wish to remain in prison?"
Fisk shook his head and slowly stepped out of his cell and looked around. The five other guards in his wing were out cold.
"We should hurry," Fisk warned as the Scrier began to lead him through the prison's hallways, "There are bound to be more guards coming when they realize that I've escaped and more police will come from New York to aide their fellow officers."
"Unnecessary," the Scrier answered as they entered a larger hallway and Fisk saw several more guards that were unconscious, "My gas took out every guard in this prison, and the NYPD is busy with matters concerning a criminal known as the Hobgoblin."
"The Hobgoblin?" Fisk asked.
"Yes," the Scrier replied, "Caused quite a stir today. He attacked the Stark Towers with a bunch of robots."
Fisk then slowly followed as the Scrier lead him out of the prison and down to a small dock near the body of water that surrounded the island.
"I thank you for freeing me," Fisk answered, "My I finally know the name of my rescuer?"
"I am a member of the Brotherhood of Scriers," Scrier answered, "I have released you from your prison, and members of my Brotherhood are currently working so that in the eyes of the law, you were released before the knockout gas was thrown into the prison, for a specific purpose."
"I am a known crime lord," Fisk answered, "I understand completely that my freedom is not to come free. What do you want?"
"Norman Osborn's head on a platter," Scrier answered.
"Norman Osborn?" Fisk answered, "You do realize that the Green Goblin has proved useful in distracting Spider-Man away from my endeavors, although I never employed him in that, or any capacity for that matter."
"Norman Osborn laid the paper trail that put you away," the Scrier answered, "It would be wise to make sure he can not repeat his crimes against you."
"Revenge is largely a sucker's game," Fisk answered, "But if what you say is true, then it would appear that Osborn has had his eyes on my 'Empire' for quite some time. I must rebuild my 'Empire' before I can deal with Osborn."
"So long as you act quickly," Scrier told the overweight crime boss, "Osborn must not escape."
Fisk's Hotel
"Ni… sss… steh... re..." Spider-Man mumbled out and lunged at the Scrier again, "Tuh… bu…duh… thah… yuh… or… re…vuh…geh… eh…s… he…ear."
Scrier attempted to land another blow on Spider-Man while he was still in the air, but the webbed Avenger was ready and shot a webline that wrapped around the Scrier's ankle. With a flick of his wrist he then threw Scrier into the bathroom with the Enforcers and did a back flip to land on his feet. Unfortunately, he landed too close to Fisk, who laid the strongest punch that he could on Spider-Man just as he landed. The blow knocked him to the floor and Fisk was about to step on him when Arachne kicked the overweight gangster away.
"I believe it is now time that we made our exit," Scrier said slowly as he got to his feet and produced several more glass spheres and threw them throughout the hotel room.
When the spheres shattered, they released a large amount of smoke that quickly blinded everyone in the room except Scrier. Spider-Man and Arachne coughed on the smoke for several minutes before the hotel's ventilation system finally cleared the room. When the room did clear, they found it empty. Fisk and the Scrier had evidently left, and taken both Bullseye and the Enforcers with them. The sound of police sirens echoed in the background.
"I… thing…k… we… shu…ud… guh…oh…" Spider-Man mumbled out.
"Huh?" Arachne asked back, still not having full control over her tongue thanks to the Scrier's gas.
Spider-Man then went over to Fisk's desk and began to rummage around it for a pen and paper. When he finally found something he could use he wrote down, "I think we should go home."
Arachne nodded in agreement. They weren't going to get anywhere now, and with their tongues completely numb, neither of them could understand the other. They slowly walked back to the bedroom that they had barged into when their 'sting' began and found that it had started raining while they had been inside.
"Gruh… ate…" Spider-Man grumbled as the two leaped out.
Avengers Tower, Half an Hour Later
Aunt was just preparing to turn in for the night and was making her way to her apartment within the Avengers Tower when she found Peter and Mary Jane coming in from one of the exterior windows. Both were in costume, but had taken off their masks and both were completely soaked.
"You guys have a good night?" Aunt May asked, "Did you catch this dreadful Kingpin fellow?"
Both Peter and Mary Jane shrugged their shoulders, which didn't really answer Aunt May's question.
"Well?" Aunt May asked firmly.
"No," Spider-Man simply answered, as it was the only word that he could say without the Scrier's gas taking effect.
"Oh my," Aunt May gasped, "He wasn't there, wasn't he? I'm sorry you didn't get to capture him."
"No… ee… wuth… th…air… buh… ee… esss… ped," Mary Jane tried to explain.
Aunt May raised an eyebrow looking at both them while Peter just smacked his forehead while Mary Jane looked like she was cursing herself. She was about to say something when she was interrupted by gruff laughter. She turned to find Logan standing there with a box of donuts under his arm.
"I'm sorry, but you gotta admit that was hilarious," Logan shook his head, "Get caught in some minor electrical shock? Don't worry, it'll probably ware off in a little while. Things like that happen to rookies."
"At…yu…lee… a… sc… er… it… uh…ss… we… th… guh…ass… nd… guh…t… bo…th… ohf… us…" Peter mumbled out.
Unfortunately, that answer didn't do much to help the situation, as it only made Logan laugh harder.
"Oh this is too much," Logan laughed.
"All right," Aunt May said firmly as she looked at Logan sternly, "That's enough out of you. Take your donuts and go to bed."
Logan looked at the elderly woman for a moment and then stalked away grumbling something. This only made Peter and Mary Jane chuckle a little bit as Logan was yet to find away to stand up to a seventy year old woman.
"Now what is with you two mumbling?" Aunt May then asked as she turned on Peter and Mary Jane.
"Th…e… gah…ss… may… aide… ah…or… tuh…ung…suh… goh… nuh… mmm…" Peter answered.
Aunt May only looked on and sighed, "Do you know how long you're going to be like this?"
Both of them shook their heads.
"Just get some rest then," Aunt May sighed, "I'll try to figure what went on tomorrow."
Elsewhere
"Why did you tell them all that?" Fisk demanded as he smashed his fists down on an old business desk in the back end of a mechanic's shop that he had regained control of, "I thought you said you didn't want your connection or your real mission revealed?"
"And I thought you said that you had plenty of surprises for Spider-Man if he attacked you?" Scrier answered, "When I arrived I found your mighty Enforcers out cold in the bathroom and are still yet to regain consciousness and Bullseye webbed to the floor."
"That wasn't my fault!" Bullseye argued, "Most guys with powers are out of my league. Daredevil and Captain America I can consider taking on, because their powers are that of the average man. Guys that can stick to walls and react faster then any human could are too powerful for me to fight."
"Are you implying that this is my fault?" Fisk growled at his paid assassin.
Bullseye backed away shaking his head, "No, sir. I can fight with them if you need it, but guys like Spider-Man require different tactics then just revealing my position and taking him on."
"I believe it was Arachne that defeated you," Scrier pointed out.
"She moves just like her partner does," Bullseye answered, "If I didn't know better, I'd say they have the exact same powers. Dealing with them will require different tactics or someone with the ability to go toe to toe with at least one of them."
Fisk nodded and pulled himself up to sit on the table. He then glared at the Scrier with a rather frustrated look.
"You do know that Spider-Man will do whatever he can to make sure that Osborn lives," Fisk told the Scrier, "Killing something, regardless of its nature, good or evil, is not something he is comfortable with."
"An appropriate punishment for failing to lay a suitable trap for the two of them," Scrier answered firmly, "You should have done what your own agent just suggested from the start."
Fisk grumbled in a frustrated tone, but kept his voice low enough so that Scrier couldn't hear what he was saying.
"You will still be held to the bargain that you made with me, Wilson Fisk," Scrier reminded the crime lord, "You must deliver to me Norman Osborn. Should you either fail to deliever him or should you back out on the deal, you will find yourself wishing you were back in prison."
The Scrier then slowly walked away, disappearing into the shadows. Bullseye watched him go and shuddered once the black robed man was gone.
"That guy seriously gives me the creeps," Bullseye said nervously, "You sure you don't want me to whack him for ya, boss?"
"You were still conscious after Arachne webbed you to the floor, correct?" Fisk asked.
Bullseye nodded.
"He is part of a 'Brotherhood of Scriers'," Fisk answered, "Fighting him while we are still having to contend with some criminals who will refuse to accept my control of the city and our coming battle with Osborn, as well as with Spider-Man now directly involved in those engagements, we are in no shape to fight a religious Brotherhood that is quite strong and secretive."
"So what now?" Bullseye asked.
"Right now we must get to our secondary base of operations," Fisk answered, "The police are likely swarming the hotel we have just been forced out of."
"What about the guys in the other rooms?" Bullseye asked, "You want me to rescue them?"
"They should be fine so long as they don't do anything stupid," Fisk answered, "The real reason is that since Spider-Man knows of our connection to that hotel, he is likely to keep an eye on it. If we move to a different sector, we will be able to proceed unnoticed."
Elsewhere
Bookkeeper awoke to find himself tied to a chair in a very dark room. There was a single light that was on above him, but it did little to light the rest of the room.
"Hello?" Bookkeeper called out, "Is anyone there?"
"It's about time you got up," a voice spoke from the shadows, "I was about ready to just kill you and get it over with."
"Don't kill me!" Bookkeeper shrieked.
Bookkeeper that the owner of the voice was giving a frustrated sigh.
"Come on and grow a back bone," the voice demanded, "I will actually need your help if my fortunes are to be reversed."
"Who are you?" Bookkeeper asked suspiciously.
Bookkeeper then gasped as the man appeared out of the darkness. It was Norman Osborn of all people, dressed as the Green Goblin, but wasn't wearing his mask.
"You!" Bookkeeper gasped, "But you died. Thrown into the Hudson River by a bolt of lightning."
"I didn't die," Osborn answered, "Of course, I was in shock for a while, and I woke up about two miles out to sea, but I obviously came back. And what a world I've come back to. Spider-Man has gained a 'mysterious' redheaded partner and the Kingpin has allied himself with some former followers of mine."
"So why did you kidnap me?" Bookkeeper asked.
"Kingpin is not to be running New York crime," Osborn answered, "I want to know why the Owl allowed it."
"The Owl is in jail at the moment," Bookkeeper answered.
"Bah," Osborn growled, "My old followers found people loyal to the Kingpin while HE was in jail. Surely there are those loyal to the Owl."
"Why do you want to fight the Kingpin?" Bookkeeper asked, getting a sense at where Osborn was going.
"Because of a few reasons," Osborn answered, "Mainly because my old followers follow some incredibly stupid religion and wish to kill me. The others are largely for strategic and personal reasons."
"The Owl does want the Kingpin defeated," Bookkeeper pointed out, "You don't need to have me tied up."
"Maybe, but I need you to change your allegiance," Osborn answered.
"My allegiance?" Bookkeeper asked.
"Yes," Osborn nodded, "Instead of the Owl, you are to serve me."
"What do you want me for?" Bookkeeper asked.
"Largely surveillance," Osborn answered, "I want to know what Fisk is up to and where my old followers are hiding."
"You'll untie me if I agree?" Bookkeeper asked.
Osborn smiled, "Of course."
Avengers Tower, the Next Day
Both Peter and Mary Jane were quite relieved to find that the Scrier's gas was only temporary and began to fill Aunt May on what had happened the night before. Both of them were also rather curious about how she knew where they had gone, and Peter was slightly embarrassed to learn that she had been helping Jarvis and saw the security camera footage of the Black Cat showing Spider-Man where the Kingpin's base was.
"Tony is going to kill me," Peter sighed, "She broke in twice in as many nights."
"At least it wasn't to steal anything," Mary Jane reminded him.
"That's probably my only defense," Peter sniffled, as if he were starting to come down with a cold now.
"So what now?" Mary Jane asked.
"Today is going to be pretty much shot," Peter answered, "I got to get the few photos I managed from last night to the Bugle and I'm sure Tony is going to want to talk about Felicia's habit of breaking into the tower."
"I was talking about the situation with the Kingpin," Mary Jane answered, "And probably with Osborn as well."
"We can't prevent Fisk from regaining power," Peter sighed, "He's already done that. We'll just have to keep our eyes out for any activity by the Scriers or whatever Fisk is doing to find Osborn. As much as I hate Norman, I can't let the Scriers kill him because he 'betrayed' them. He'd be better off in a maximum security prison for the rest of his life."
To Be Continued…
