"Advent of Midnight"
Chapter 6: "A Stroke of Hades' Genius"
Disclaimer: Spectacular Spider-Man and all associated properties and characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. Darkstalkers and all associated characters and properties belong to Capcom. I make no money from this story, and gain no other material compensation for writing it.
Author's note: Well, things are just getting worse and worse. Peter is being slowly consumed by a bloodthirsty symbiote-vampire hybrid dwelling inside him, his identity has been presumably exposed, and his dear sweet aunt has become an undead bride of Demitri Maximoff. Not to mention Venom and Demitri are about to fight over who has the right to kill him. If things don't get better soon, who knows what'll happen to Peter and friends?
Demitri threw Venom aside, only for Venom to flip and land in a crouching position on the wall, snarling at Demitri.
"You're going to regret that . . ."
"And you'll regret crossing me. You and your parasite."
Venom shot a web at Demitri, binding his arms, only for Demitri to rip free. Of course, Venom had lunged at Demitri while the vampire was freeing himself from the web and scored a punch that briefly staggered Demitri. Demitri retaliated by punching Venom so hard that Venom flew through the wall and out of the church, plummeting to the ground.
"That takes care of you," Demitri sneered. He turned to the kneeling Spider-Man. "And now for you."
"You . . . you took her . . ." Spider-Man whispered angrily, the vampiric symbiote beginning to cover him once again. "You took her from me . . . you took . . . the closest thing to a mother . . . I'd ever known . . ." He looked up at Demitri, furiously glowing green eyes staring at the vampire from within the eyepieces of the mask. "I'LL KILL YOU!"
He immediately sprang from his position on the ground, somersaulted in midair, and landed with a brutal kick to Demitri's head. Skidding past Demitri, he whirled and threw a roundhouse kick at Demitri, only for Demitri to block and throw him by the leg. Spider-Man merely flipped and landed on the ceiling, then jumped down with a punch to Demitri's face. He landed in a handstand off which he pushed himself and twisted into a kick to Demitri's stomach.
Spider-Man fired webs right into Demitri's eyes and proceeded to beat him mercilessly to distract Demitri from freeing his eyes from the webbing. Finally, Demitri caught Spider-Man by the arm and threw him into the wall, only for Spider-Man to flip and land on the wall in a crouch, then spring off it to tackle Demitri viciously.
"You really think you can kill me, boy?" Demitri sneered just before kicking Spider-Man off him. Undeterred, the web-slinger caught himself with web-lines and then swung in for another kick.
Just then, Venom swung back in lunging at Spider-Man, only for Spider-Man to twist around and kick him in the head. Spider-Man twisted again and delivered a brutal spin-kick to Demitri. Having downed both opponents, Spider-Man turned to Mary Jane, Gwen, Harry, Liz, and Ben.
"Get out of here. Now."
"Petey . . ." Liz uttered.
"Fine, man," Ben said solemnly. "Do what you have to." He turned to the others. "Come on."
As the five former hostages began to leave, Spider-Man noticed Demitri and Venom beginning to rise again. "Now I don't have to hold back . . ." he snarled, web-chains ripping out of the symbiotic matter of his suit and lashing with enough force to break skin and even pierce Venom's symbiote.
Then Venom caught one of the chains and used it to yank Spider-Man toward him, only for Spider-Man to knee him in the head and flip off him and twist to kick Demitri in the chest. Skidding to a stop on the ground, Spider-Man whirled around and lashed out again with his web-chains, trapping both Demitri and Venom.
"Die!" Spider-Man screamed.
"You first, 'bro,'" Venom taunted, ripping free of Spider-Man's chains along with Demitri, who had transformed into what seemed to be a bat-winged, demonic version of himself.
Demitri flew at Spider-Man, grabbing him by the head and throwing him out of the church, only for Spider-Man to fire webbing at either side of the hole he'd just been flung through and spring back inside. As he did, he threw himself into a flying kick that hit Demitri with enough force to completely shatter a normal human's ribcage and turn said human's insides into pulp. Being an immortal vampire, though, Demitri was simply pissed off.
"Stubborn, aren't you?" Demitri growled.
"That's Parker, all right," Venom commented. "Doesn't know when to quit. You'd better leave him to us, old man."
"You impetuous brat," Demitri hissed, and whirled to punch Venom, who dodged and socked Demitri in the stomach.
"Oh, good, you're going to kill each other instead," Spider-Man mocked. "Doing my job for me. Thanks."
The former hostages had reached the officers outside Our Lady of Saints Church, said officers being led by Captain George Stacy. "Are you all alright?" he asked them.
"Yeah . . ." Gwen admitted.
"But Spider-Man isn't," Harry added. "I don't know what happened to him, but . . . I think he's going to do something to those guys."
Judging by the barely restrained fear in his voice, Captain Stacy figured whatever Spider-Man intended to do to the kidnappers was nothing good for his heroic reputation. "Carter, DeWolff, with me. If we have to, be ready to go in there and help Spider-Man."
Inside the church, both Demitri and Venom turned to Spider-Man and lunged at him, only for Spider-Man to jump up and kick them both. He then fired a web at Venom and yanked him over as he lunged at him, jumping on Venom's chest and surfing him out of the church and down its façade. Once they landed outside, Spider-Man began firing copious amounts of webbing at Venom, the better to trap him.
"There's your killer wall-crawler," Spider-Man snarled at the officers.
At that moment, the still-demonic Demitri descended after Spider-Man, prompting Sergeant Carter to look up and shout, "What the hell is that?!"
Spider-Man chuckled, seemingly unaware or uncaring of the creature descending toward him. Then he whirled and delivered a brutal uppercut to Demitri, sending him flying up again. Spider-Man ensnared him with web-chains and sprang up after him to strike him down with a serious of vicious stomping kicks.
Upon downing Demitri, Spider-Man walked away from his opponent, a cruel leer beneath his mask. "A loser, Sergeant Carter. That's what he is. He lost."
Jean DeWolff looked at Spider-Man. While the wall-crawler had never been anything more to her than a troublemaker causing as many problems as he seemed to solve, the tone of his voice, the way he stood sent a primal shiver of fear down her spine. She looked at her partner, Stan Carter, and noticed a drop of sweat running down the side of his face.
"Spider-Man?" Captain Stacy asked. "What's wrong?"
Spider-Man would have answered with something scathing, but his spider-sense flared as Demitri and Venom both broke free of their binds and moved to attack again. This time, Spider-Man whirled around and just punched them both as hard as he possibly could, all care for their chances of survival gone.
He kneeled down in front of them and whispered harshly to Venom, "I get it. You want to die, don't you? Well, don't worry, 'bro.' I'll grant you your wish soon enough."
Spider-Man turned back to Captain Stacy, although his eyes briefly scanned Gwen, MJ, Liz, Harry, and Ben. He turned to Captain Stacy again. "Are they all right?"
"Yeah," Captain Stacy replied. "Thanks to you."
Spider-Man merely stared at Captain Stacy, and turned back to look at the downed Demitri and Venom when he saw that they were nowhere to be seen. Clenching his fists in cold fury, he climbed up back into Our Church of Lady Saints, looking for his transformed Aunt May. She was nowhere to be found, either.
"No . . ." Spider-Man murmured softly. He then screamed his disbelieving anguish. "No!!!"
The symbiote retreated into him, leaving behind a shivering, sobbing wreck of a teenage boy in a Spider-Man costume. He felt arms wrap around him in a comforting embrace, and his head being pulled into something soft and warm and bouncy. He didn't notice, too engulfed in his loss and his pain to be aware of anything anymore.
Lilith looked at Morrigan and Spider-Man sadly. "Is he broken?"
"Then we put him back together again," Morrigan replied, while pulling back Peter's mask so she could stroke his hair.
It was almost dawn when Peter finally had the strength to return home, only to find Ben, Anna Watson, and Mary Jane waiting for him. "Peter?" Mary Jane asked.
Peter didn't say anything, the look in his eyes that of a man who'd lost everything that ever mattered to him. Anna stood up and hugged him tightly, at which point Peter just broke, weeping in her arms and repeating the words "my fault" like an insane mantra.
"It's ok . . ." Anna whispered. "You can stay with me and Mary Jane until the police find your aunt May."
The next day, Peter went to the Daily Bugle to pull some damage control, with Ben escorting him. "Hey, Betts," Ben greeted with an impish smirk.
"Hi, Ben," Betty greeted. Then she got a look at Peter and felt a stab of heartache. The boy looked just so forlorn, so completely lost . . . that it awoke her "big sister" impulses. She immediately got up from her desk and gave Peter a gentle hug. "If there's anything I can do to help . . ."
"Goes for all of us, kid . . ." Jameson grunted.
"Yeah," Robbie added, with Ned Lee and Frederick Foswell nodding in assent.
"Some good news, though," Lee said. "We cleared you of being Spider-Man."
"You did?" Peter asked wanly.
"Yeah," Lee replied. "We found some security footage of you in a Spider-Man costume on Halloween, and we figured that's how it all started. But if you were Spider-Man, why would you do something as reckless as take off your mask in public and then pass yourself off as just another kid in a costume?"
Peter chuckled, although there was no spirit in it.
"It's ok, Peter," Robbie said. "You don't need to laugh to make us feel better."
Peter gently released himself from Betty's embrace and turned to Robbie. "Thanks. That . . . that means a lot . . ."
"Take some time off, kid," Jameson grumbled. "Don't need you chasing that wall-crawling menace in the state you're in now."
"Thanks, Mr. Jameson . . ." Peter murmured.
For the rest of the day, Peter sleepwalked through school, not really paying attention to anything or anyone around him. The change in his demeanor was so unsettling that even his usual tormenters, Flash and Sally, didn't bother with him. At lunch, Rand came up to him and asked, "How you holding up?"
"Thanks for asking, but I'm . . . I'm hanging in there," Peter replied.
After Rand left, Peter heard a familiar voice say, "Hey, Tiger."
Peter turned and found Mary Jane, Gwen, Liz, and Lilith hanging around him. To his surprise, Sally was there, too, looking as though she didn't want to be there at all but was persuaded otherwise. Peter looked up at them all, rather confused.
"What . . . what are you . . . ?"
"Mind if we sit here for a while?" MJ asked.
"Go ahead," Peter replied.
The girls sat down, and Peter tried to figure out when he'd gotten such wonderful friends. Hell, even Sally was trying not to be as cruel as she usually was on his account. And, as if the world hadn't turned upside down enough, Flash had joined them, bringing Rand along (or was it the other way around?), and Ben and Harry were there, too.
"Wow . . . thanks . . ."
"Can't pick on someone who's too depressed to answer back," Flash answered. "Makes me feel like a jackass."
"You are a jackass, Flash," Ben piped up.
"Shut up, Reilly," Flash retorted. "Can't you see I'm trying to make your dweeb cousin feel better?"
"Got a funny way of doing it . . ." Harry remarked.
Liz, Gwen, Lilith, and MJ all tried at various points during the lunch period to get Peter to talk, but he'd only answer in short sentence fragments. The despondency in his tone whenever he did speak broke their hearts . . . and frankly, it upset Flash and Sally, too. Sally being Sally, though, she expressed her distress somewhat differently from most people dealing with a grieving nephew.
"You know, you could bother to try to fake a smile!" she exclaimed bitterly. "It's not that hard! We're here trying to cheer you up and you insist on sitting there sucking the life out of everything!"
"Fake a smile?" Peter repeated, as though tasting a new food for the first time. "That's rich." He actually did smile, but it was no smile anybody there was used to seeing on his face. No, this smile was toothy and his eyes were alight with a near-demonic malice. (And had his teeth gotten sharper?) "Fake a smile. Yeah. My aunt's only God knows where, with some maniac who's after me because he thinks I'm Spider-Man, and you're asking me to smile?" He began to snicker, a low sound that increased in pitch and madness.
"Petey?" Liz asked.
"Smile? Yeah, how about you smile?" Peter sneered at Sally, almost enjoying her terrified gasp.
"Peter, chill, man," Rand asked. "You're scaring her."
"Scaring her?" Peter asked. "She's the one who asked me to fake a smile. I'm smiling now. Like it?"
Gwen gave Peter "the Look." Peter, in his current semi-psychotic state, seemed to just ignore it.
"Smile, huh?" Peter taunted. "Ok. Smile, Sally. Smile."
Sally was still gaping at Peter in mute terror.
"No smile? I thought you'd be happy to see me smile." Peter sighed. "Well, I do know one way to get you to smile."
"Puny, snap out of it!" Flash yelled.
"Puny? Me? You must have me confused with someone else," Peter answered.
"You gonna act like a psycho every time something happens to your aunt?" Flash taunted.
Peter chuckled . . . and punched Flash with enough force to split his lip. "What the hell?!" was the surprised exclamation from Flash. Peter merely calmly looked at the blood on his fist and cleaned it off with his tongue. "What kind of freak are you?!"
"The kind you avoid unless you don't like your health."
"Peter!" Mary Jane snapped. "What's gotten into you?!"
"What's gotten into me?" Peter echoed. He snickered briefly, as though Mary Jane had just told a very good joke.
Just then, Flash had gotten up to attack Peter, and Peter caught him by the throat and slammed him onto the table. "Don't."
At that moment, a teacher came in, seeing Peter holding Flash by the throat and about to punch him. "Mr. Parker! Stop this!"
Peter turned to the teacher, the unnerving smile still on his face. "Why?"
"Because, Mr. Parker, it's not a good idea to brutalize your classmate on school grounds."
"We . . . we were just trying to help, you jackass . . ." Flash growled.
"Help? I don't need your help. I need the bastard who took my aunt away from me deader than dead, and unless you're up to that, I suggest you keep your 'help,'" Peter sneered. He let go of Flash and walked away from the cafeteria.
"Mr. Parker!" the teacher called. "Mr. Parker! Unless you're headed to the principal's office, I would recommend that you stop!"
Peter turned to face the teacher. "You were saying?"
"Are you aware of just how beyond the pale your behavior has been?" the teacher asked.
"I wasn't aware I was supposed to care anymore," Peter answered coldly.
"Peter . . . I know you're having a tough time of things," the teacher said, his voice softening. "I can take you to the guidance counselor, if you want."
Peter softened, the deadly look in his eyes fading to a sadder look. "Sure. Thanks . . ."
Thus it was that Peter found himself in the guidance counselor's office . . . and staring right at the cleavage of one Morrigan Aensland. He was perfectly aware that he shouldn't stare, and he didn't want to stare, but there was something almost hypnotic, for lack of a better word, about her exposed flesh.
Damn hormones, Peter thought.
"Peter," Morrigan spoke up. "You're here because there's something that troubles you. You're not going to find the solution between my breasts."
Peter scowled. "Something troubling me? Your psycho ex has my aunt in his clutches, has turned her into a depraved monster, and is probably doing all manner of even more depraved things to her!"
"Monster?" Morrigan repeated with a faint, amused smile. "So are you."
Peter's scowl turned deadly, as black chains of demonic energy reached up from beneath his upturned collar and past his shirt cuff and began to spread over his face and arm.
"Getting angry?" Morrigan taunted, the faint, amused smile still on her face.
"I'm the monster?" Peter asked furiously. "I'm not the one who survives off human blood and spent life energy!" At that moment, the chains of demonic energy were forming into a warped black variant of his costume.
Morrigan's smile widened. "If you want to fight, fine. We'll fight. But not here. We'll attract too much attention, and neither of us wants everyone here knowing just what we are. Isn't that right?"
Her clothes exploded into a flurry of bats that momentarily blinded Peter. When the web-slinger could see again, he found himself on a rooftop, with Morrigan in her battle garb. Spider-Man merely shifted into a combat-ready stance.
"Whenever you're ready," he taunted.
Immediately, Morrigan blitzed Spider-Man, the wall-crawler barely managing to evade her strikes. Even the ones he managed to deflect nearly broke his bones despite the symbiotic armor and his own enhanced strength and durability. It was only after Morrigan launched herself into the air and came down with her wings wrapped around her legs like a drill that the wall-crawler figured he might be in trouble.
Spider-Man dodged Morrigan's drill attack, but her wings merely opened up and lashed out as tentacles with arrowhead points. Spider-Man retaliated by using his suit to form web-chains that lashed out at Morrigan, entangling with her shape-shifted wings. He charged Morrigan in a burst of inhuman speed, slamming his knee into her gut.
The wall-crawler pressed his advantage by sending his web-chains to grab Morrigan, only for Morrigan to grab the web-chains and use them to yank Spider-Man over to her. By this point, Spider-Man had twisted himself for a side kick, just as Morrigan kicked him. Spider-Man landed on his hands and twisted around to kick her in the gut again.
"You're good," Morrigan admitted with a smirk. "And very sexy when you get like this."
Spider-Man snarled beneath his mask. "I'm not here to amuse you!" He lunged at her again, his hands going for her throat, but Morrigan grabbed his wrists and spread them apart while kneeing him in the stomach to bring him to his knees.
"Actually, you are," Morrigan taunted. "It gets boring, living all these centuries. I have to do something to entertain myself. And mortal toys like you are very entertaining."
"Is that all I am to you?" Spider-Man whispered. "A toy? Something to play with and then throw away once all the entertainment value's used up?"
The despondency in his tone was actually quite heartbreaking. If Morrigan wasn't who she was, she might have been tempted to give the poor boy a hug and a kiss on the lips and assurance that everything would be ok. Actually, she probably would do that, but use it as a pretext to get at his life force. Of course, she'd probably be doing the tormented boy a favor.
To her surprise, though, she found herself kneeling beside him and peeling away his mask so she could see his face. Tendrils of the symbiote clung to the edges of his face, while the whites of his eyes had a pale green shine to them. The expression of his face was almost distilled despair.
"What am I becoming?" Peter asked.
Morrigan brushed his mussed hair with her hand. "It's not me you want to hurt, is it?"
"No . . . it's him. He took my aunt from me. He took my only family from me!"
"And you want to take her back and make him pay, right?"
"Yeah. I want to kill him. I want to feel his dead heart in my hands as I crush it."
"What's so wrong with that?"
Peter looked up at her, aghast. "What's wrong? I'm not supposed to be a monster. This power . . . isn't something I can just use with no regard for the consequences! That's how I lost my Uncle Ben!"
"He took your only family from you, right?" Morrigan asked. "And if he lives, he'll pursue you forever. No mortal jail will hold him. So . . . you have only one option left."
"I won't," Peter answered, even as the symbiote writhed within his mind and body. "I won't."
"What about Venom? He's still out there," Morrigan brought up. "And he hates you even more than Demitri does."
"He was . . . he was like a brother to me," Peter murmured. "I still don't know how it could have turned out like this between us."
"These things happen. Take it from someone who's lived so many centuries. Friends come and go. Sometimes, they have really stupid reasons for going."
"He thought . . . I was just using him, using everyone around me, that I didn't give a damn at all about anything except me . . ."
Peter trailed off and almost instinctively buried his face in Morrigan's bosom, shedding the tears that he had been holding in for a long time. Morrigan simply stroked his hair gently, letting the boy drown his sorrows in her chest and wondering just why she was going this far to help him. Wasn't he supposed to be just her toy, her newest diversion from the boredom of eternal life?
Lilith must be rubbing off on me, she mused to herself.
Soon enough, Spider-Man and Morrigan returned to Midtown High, landing on the rooftop. Morrigan's battle attire exploded into bats that reformed around her body as her civilian clothes, a tight white blouse with several buttons undone to let her chest "breathe" and tight black jeans and white stiletto boots. Spider-Man's symbiotic armor morphed back into his civilian clothes, a black jean jacket over a blue shirt and dark cargo pants with white-and-black sneakers.
The duo entered the school through the roof access and walked down the halls as though nothing was wrong. "Miss Aensland?" a teacher asked.
"Yes?" Morrigan turned to the teacher, a bemused look on her face.
"Where did you and Mr. Parker go?" the teacher asked.
"I figured he needed some fresh air to talk things over better, so I took him on a walk," Morrigan replied smoothly.
"Oh . . ." the teacher said. "Just let the principal know next time. You two gave us quite the scare . . . and his classmates were worried, too."
After the school day was over, Flash stalked toward Peter. "Hey, Flash, I'm . . ."
"No skin off my nose," Flash cut him off. "Where'd you learn how to throw a cross like that?"
"After all the times you'd stuff me in my own locker, I figured I had to learn," Peter replied with a slight chuckle. "Still sorry, though. You were trying to help, in your own way . . ."
"Sally isn't exactly Miss Sensitivity," Flash mumbled. "Just don't tell her I said that."
Peter snickered slightly.
That afternoon, Peter hurried to the ESU labs to see Gwen, the Drs. Connors, and Dr. Warren. "Sorry I'm late. Had to serve detention . . ."
"Detention?" a familiar and now-hated voice remarked. "Doesn't sound like you, Spidey."
Peter whirled, seeing Eddie Brock wearing a lab coat over his clothes, a black shirt and dark-colored jeans. "Eddie?! What . . . ?"
"I got my job back, bro," Eddie replied. "And I gotta say, the time away was good. Had to get my head screwed on straight. Now that I got everything settled . . ."
While Eddie would have sounded like the epitome of sanity and reason to anyone else hearing him, the psychotic smirk that kept tugging at his lips was all too obvious to Peter, who was clenching his fists tightly as he fought to keep the symbiote down.
"That's . . . that's great, bro," Peter managed to get out. "Really, I'm happy for you . . ."
"Good, little man," Eddie said, wrapping his arm around Peter's shoulders in a seemingly brotherly embrace. "It's really good seeing you again, after all this time."
"Yeah . . . really great," Peter pretended to agree.
Eddie's voice lowered so that whatever he said would be for Peter's ears only. "Just because the Bugle didn't believe us, doesn't mean other people won't. You're never going to be safe from us . . . ever. Got us, 'bro'?"
Peter's voice lowered as well. "Come after me all you want. But if you ever, ever go after Gwen or any of my other friends again . . . not a force in this universe is going to stop me from taking you apart. Both of you."
"Peter, Eddie," Dr. Martha Connors called. "As great as it is that you two are getting along again, I'd like your attention on this."
"Sure, Dr. Martha," Eddie answered, letting go of Peter.
"Yeah," Peter agreed.
As Peter and Gwen were getting ready to go home later that day, Peter noticed someone coming in to see Dr. Warren. This someone was tall, lean, and his face was obscured by a fedora, sunglasses, and a coat with an upturned collar. The clothes beneath that collar were quite dark in color, and he was wearing gloves. Peter didn't know why, but something about that guy just didn't sit right with him.
"Peter?" Gwen whispered while they were on their way to the bus stop. "Can we talk?"
"Sure," Peter replied.
"I mean . . . about the Spider-Man thing . . ."
Peter felt his stomach turn with fear and nervousness. "I guess we couldn't avoid it forever, huh?"
"Yeah," Gwen admitted.
"Listen, how about we talk about it later? I gotta see Dr. Connors about something."
Gwen gave him "the Look," showing just what she really thought about Peter's "excuse."
"Don't worry. We will talk about this. I just can't, right now." Without another word, Peter dashed away from her and back inside ESU. Now let's see what's going on with Dr. Warren . . .
End Notes: I know you guys might be mad at me for not doing anything with Morbius for the past three chapters, so this is my way of making it up to you for those of you who wanted to see more of him. Despite the curveballs that have been thrown Peter's way, he seems to be hanging in there, particularly with a little help from the people who care about him – even people who don't want to acknowledge that they care.
That doesn't mean he can afford to relax; Venom is still after him, and now is close enough to do it anytime he wants. Demitri still has Aunt May. Morrigan and Lilith's agenda for him is still unknown, and Peter is still in danger of being consumed by the embodiment of his darkest impulses and desires. How will he overcome all these challenges? To find out, check out the next chapter and thank you for reading this one.
P.S. Check out my profile; you might find other great stories worth reading that could also use some love. Depends on if you're into Teen Titans or Naruto or that sort of thing.