*This chapter had been deleted and posted again after I made some corrections. I apologize to the people who had already read it or were in the middle of it if I caused any inconvenience.
I want to point out that since the entire story as a whole is plot-driven, that is, it's continued over the chapters, readers might not find a lot of depictions of Yuri and Spider-Man, which everyone loves, in the first few chapters. Of course there will be in the future chapters, and I promise to make them as enjoyable as possible, but as the plot goes, you won't find a lot of it here now.
And...and...also, I know the DLCs are coming out next week, but since I have already taken over the characters and set them on newer paths (This story takes place almost fourteen months after the scene which showed Norman Osborn and Harry in the healing tank), many things will not match with what will be shown in the DLC. So, in my story, the DLCs may never have happened. I'll be honest. But, I promise to bring in a few elements from them, if possible.
My whole idea of writing this story was to explore the numerous aspects the game left, and also to introduce the less common villains.
Dmitri Smerdyakov nervously looked around at the people in the room. He sat on a chair, securely tied to it, and before him sat Captain Yuri Watanabe and Detective Jean DeWolff. Superintendent Derek Henderson stood at the door.
His stare locked onto DeWolff.
"Who is this woman?" he asked.
"Doesn't matter," Yuri said.
He turned to Henderson.
"I need to know," he told him, "Any of these could be fraud, here to kill me."
"We're not frauds," DeWolff said.
"Why would someone want to kill you?" Yuri asked.
"Because they have already killed two of the inmates."
"But why specifically you?"
"Because I know them and they know me and I failed them thanks to you cops. And that son of a bitch Stacy."
"Failed them?" Henderson said.
"Yes," Smerdyakov replied, "I was working for them before you put me in here. And the new commander doesn't tolerate men who fail the group." He gulped. "He kills them. Or he has them killed. Like he will kill me."
"But how do you know it's the same people?" Yuri asked.
"Have you found roses with Octavius and Martin Li?"
"Yes we did," Yuri said.
"Because it's them. That's how I came to know." He turned to Henderson. "It's the same people. And I wouldn't be surprised if they were still here."
MJ had a feeling she was being followed. She wasn't sure, but she felt it in her guts that she was. Since the last two hours, from her journey to the Bugle and then back home, there was this young looking guy constantly after her. Wherever she went, he followed. When she was on the street again, she was hungry and had stopped before a food stall to get something to eat. The man stopped around fifty yards from her, and began fiddling with his phone. That was when she had realized. When she moved again, after biting down a hot dog, he too resumed walking. It was broad daylight and she dared to take a turn and enter into an alley way. Damn it. She hadn't brought her stunt gun with her.
When she crossed the alley and walked into the next street, she entered into a toy store. From the window, she carefully peeped out. Yes. The guy was still there, once again fiddling with his phone. Talking to someone. Or pretending to.
She realized that as long as she was in here, she was safe. But she had to get out. It was almost two and the store was about to get closed for a lunch break.
The problem was, the exit door led you around the place and again on to the same street you were before you came in.
She should have brought her stunt gun with her. She made a mental note to never forget it ever again.
She peeped again at the guy outside. He was still there. The guy looked towards the window. She ducked. Her heart hammered against her chest.
She went away from the window, hoping he hadn't seen her and that he wouldn't come in.
She went to the far corner of the store, hiding herself among the tall shelves full of soft toys.
She did the only thing she could think of.
Yuri was amazed at how easily the Chameleon was giving away information. Either he was lying, or he was really terrified. She found this an opportunity to proceed with the case in hand.
"Who are these people Dmitri?" she asked, "Are these the same people Taskmaster works for?"
"Taskmaster? Who's Taskmaster? I don't know no Taskmaster."
"You don't know?" Yuri said, "Tony Masters?"
Smerdyakov shook his head.
"I don't know no Taskmaster nor Tony Masters," he said, "Maybe he is a new recruit. The Rose often hires new people, most of the time for replacement of the junks they killed."
"The Rose?" DeWolff said, "Is that what they call themselves?"
Smerdyakov shook his head.
"I don't know what the the hell they call themselves, but those who know them call them by that name. Mostly because they leave behind roses with their victims."
"I don't remember any such case with roses," Yuri said, "It's entirely new to me."
Smerdyakov shook his head again.
"That's because they work in the shadows and operate mostly outside the city. And they are damn good with their work, I tell you. They do it pretty neat. If they kill, you won't know that the victim was killed. If they steal, well, you can hardly find any traces as of who did it, or when it was done. I'm surprised that they have openly killed now, here, for the first time maybe, letting people know that there was even a murder committed."
"And you believe they want to kill you now?" Yuri asked.
"It's a feeling. Like a feeling you have when you know you are gonna fail a test. Outside, of course I'm not safe. I thought that prison was the safest place for my sorry butt, but now even that's uncertain."
"And so you never left prison when there was a breakout last year," DeWolff suggested.
"That's the reason," he said, "But why does everybody be like was it a ridiculous thing I did?"
"It was," Henderson said, "No one expected that from you. We found it strange, but an insignificant matter to ponder about."
"Mr. Smerdyakov," DeWolff said, "If you have to know, eighteen officers here were abducted yesterday and they were faked. By imposters. Imposters who looked exactly like the real ones. Do you have something to say about it?"
Smerdyakov nodded.
"It's them," he said.
"No doubt about it. Anything else? And how did all of them look just like the real people?"
"They must have used the mask, obviously."
"I thought that. But how did they gain access to the technology? No one could do that. Yet."
"They don't have to gain access to it,woman! They built it."
Miles was feeling completely helpless. He didn't have the slightest of clue where to look for Peter after two whole hours of swinging around the city.
He wasn't very good at it. He had just learned to do that when Peter had landed him one of his old web-shooters just a month ago.
As he swung from one street to the other, his thoughts drifted from Peter's disappearance to why he never liked to call himself "Spider-Boy" or "Spider-Kid". "Spider-Man" was taken, of course, and he felt that only "Man" sounded good with "Spider". Not "Kid" or "Boy". He hadn't even designed a proper costume for himself. It was like he would move around, with that sports track and that ski mask and the red hood. Lately he had learned that at first, Peter had used broken lenses from old goggles to cover his eyes and now Miles did the same.
His mind slipped away from his thoughts when he saw a few thugs below him cornering a lady in an alley. Just the usual type of criminals.
He leaped from the building he had stuck to, and landed just behind the thug at the back.
He turned around, a surprise playing on his features, when Miles webbed him and pulled him back.
"Hey!" one of the men shouted.
There were four other thugs before him, who all turned to him now, knives and sticks in hand.
"Aw," Miles said, "Five rats against one lady? Isn't that adorable?"
All four charged at him.
Miles pushed himself high off the ground and landed on the head of the thug nearest to him, pushing him down and knocking him at once. Then he booted the next on the face, straight at the nose, and sent him reeling back. Miles landed on the ground and crouched down to avoid a sweeping blow form the third man. Miles swept his leg at him, tripping him. Before he touched ground, Miles punched him at the side of his head and knocked him out too.
Now there was only the fourth guy left.
But he stood behind the lady, holding a knife to her throat.
"One step," he said, "And I am gonna slit her damn throat."
"Okay," Miles said, raising his hands, "Okay. No throat slitting. No throat slitting. I ain't gonna step front. I'll go back. Look. I'll go back." Miles started walking backward. He kept on walking back until he disappeared from the alley.
The man had wanted the Spider-Man impersonator to stand where he was. Not go back and disappear from sight. Now he didn't have the slightest of clue where he went. Most probably he would attack from the back. He would do that.
He turned around. There was no way to slip away from the back. It was a dead end.
But he hadn't thought about being attacked from above.
He was knocked unconscious immediately after he felt something like an iron rod falling on his head.
"Phew," Miles said, picking up the leather bag and handing it over to the woman.
It was a girl with straight blond hair now that he saw properly. She couldn't have been more than twenty.
"Uh, thanks," she said, still in shock.
"No problem," Miles said, "Just, make sure to carry a spray with you. You know," Miles gestured with his hands, drawing in the air, "Like those pepper sprays women use."
The girl nodded.
"Yeah," she said.
Something about the girl reminded Miles of MJ, and that reminded him of Peter.
"Uh, I gotta go, actually," Miles said, "I'd suggest you used a cab, Ma'am. Do you want me to wait for you?"
"No," the girl managed, hurrying away from him, "I'll be alright. Thanks again."
"Yeah, just my work," Miles said, more to himself than to the girl.
Miles climbed the wall of the building next to him and stopped when he was at least thirty feet off the ground.
He was just thinking of ringing up MJ when she called.
"MJ, any news of Peter yet?" he asked after answering the call.
"No, Miles."
"Me neither. I tried talking to the police Captain and she didn't have a clue either. She-"
"Miles, where are you?"
"Me?" he looked around, "I'm near the Union Square Park. Why?"
"I think I'm being followed. I hate to bother you, but I don't have my gun right now."
"That's okay, where are you?"
"I'm inside a toy shop on Fifth Avenue."
"Alright," Miles said, already swinging in the air, "Which one?"
"It's a new shop. I didn't look at the name. But it's single-storied and very wide. Oh yeah, and it has this peach colored teddy bear sitting above the entrance."
"Okay," Miles said, not sure if he could find the place. Sometimes, he was really very bad at locating things. "I'm on my way. I'm roughly three miles from you. What does the guy look like?"
"Wait, just a second. Yeah, he's still there. So he is this young looking guy, blond hair cut short, I mean, very short. And he's wearing a light blue shirt above khaki trousers.
"Okay. I'm on my way."
"And Miles. Hurry."
"So you are saying they built you your mask?" DeWolff asked.
"Yeah, that's pretty much what I said if you heard it alright."
"That means," Yuri said, "They are a pretty old organization then? Because if I'm right, it's been a while since you came to prison."
"They are a pretty old group of people. Yeah."
"Who works for them? Can you name them?"
Smerdyakov shook his head.
"They don't appear before you. They are very secretive, even from their employees."
"Then how are you assigned your jobs?"
"There is this head of the employees who receives the orders. He calls himself 'Crossfire'. The guy plans the entire work. And even he doesn't know who his employers actually are. There is only one man we have only heard of, from him, and he is said to be wearing a mask every time he meets Crossfire. A mask and a suit. Like a gentle man."
"That's pretty damn," Henderson said, "We were convinced you used to work alone, and not for such organizations."
"I had to make it look like that," Smerdyakov said, "Or they would have made it their primary goal to get rid of me and free me from my body."
"What good has it done you hiding it so long now?"
He shrugged.
"They weren't after me," he said, "At least not for a long time."
The shopkeepers were leaving. She had to get out. She waited two more minutes and then hurried out. The guy followed her again.
Hurry Miles, Hurry! she thought, Where is he?
She turned back and their eyes met.
MJ increased the pace of her footsteps and the man did too. He was closing in on her.
He wasn't more than ten feet away when he suddenly disappeared from the ground.
MJ looked around her but couldn't see anyone.
But she was sure Miles had taken him away.
She sure used to follow people around for her work, but being followed and knowing it was far worse.
She searched the area for another ten minutes. She looked in and around the nearby alleys. On the streets. He was nowhere. She was hoping Miles hadn't taken her far. She had to interrogate the guy. Had to know why he had been following her.
She rang him up.
"MJ, I'm almost there," Miles said.
It took a second for MJ to filter the words.
"Where are you?" she asked.
"I'm almost there. Yes. Yes, I see a store with a teddy bear above the entrance. Wide and single-storied.
"But haven't you already taken him away?"
"What? No. I'm not even there yet. Wait. Just a few yards. Just a few…yup. You can come out now. I don't see anyone in a blue shirt and khaki trousers."
"It wasn't you?"
"It wasn't who?"
"Who swung him away?"
"What are you talking about, MJ? I don't even see anyone like you described."
"I'm outside. Just keep on coming forward, Miles. You'll find me."
MJ was really very confused now. If it hadn't been Miles, who could it be? Could it be Peter? Hope returned to her once again and she dialed his number. But he didn't answer.
She heard something above her and looked up. A figure dressed in black and red gestured her to enter into the alley right beside her. Miles.
She looked around and walked in.
Miles jumped down.
"Where's he?" he asked.
"He was right behind me," MJ said, looking around to make sure no one saw them in the dark alley, "When I last turned around, he was less than ten feet from me, and when I turned again, it was like he had leaped very high and then he disappeared. I thought it was you."
"I just got here, now. I'm sorry."
"No," MJ said, looking here and there, "It's not that."
"Maybe he's still on the terrace," Miles said, "Why don't I go up and have a look?"
MJ nodded.
"Yeah, go ahead," she said. "I'll be right behind you."
Miles nodded and with the help of his webs, crawled and jumped onto the terrace of the building nearest to him. He scanned the entire area. Nothing. Just some broken tables and chairs.
He now turned to the direction of the toy store. The building before him was taller than the one he was on right now. He climbed onto the terrace and looked around. Again, there was no one here.
He jumped to the next terrace. There he scared away a few birds who had been having their meal.
That was when he heard a scream and commotion below him on the street. He went to the railing of the terrace and looked down. People were gathered on the street and he saw something hanging upside down from a light post.
A man.
MJ was making her way back towards the toy store when a woman screamed behind her all of a sudden, and when she turned back, there was someone hanging upside down from the light post behind her.
The figure didn't move. Just swung to and fro like a pendulum.
She recognized the man.
He was dressed in a light blue shirt and khaki trousers. His feet were wrapped in webbing. For a second, she thought this time, perhaps, Miles had caught him.
A crowd gathered around the man. She pushed through the crowd, and when she made her way through the last person, to her horror, she saw that the man's eyes were wide open but still. His face displayed shock and terror.
Something fell from his breast pocket. Something red.
MJ picked it up.
It was a rose.
Please leave back your reviews after reading. I've been looking forward to those. Tell me what you feel.
