Chapter 8 - Enter the Rhino

xXx

"... the Goblin."

Gwen's words still echoed in my head, even two days after our conversation. I wasn't sure what to do. I could go after him, all I'd have to do is find out where OsCorp Industries was located. But what if he turned out to be innocent? That could destroy my already fragile reputation. That's when I remembered that the very next day, I was going to be the assistant to a reporter. Maybe he'd have some thoughts on the situation?

xXx

"This is Felicia. Chances are my phone was off when you called, so just leave a message and I'll get back to you when I can, thanks." Felicia's recorded voice spoke into my ear. I'd been calling her cellphone all day. Surely she hadn't decided to keep it off all day?

"Hey, it's Peter again... just... call back, OK?" I stated, frustrated. I hung up, pocketing my own cell.

I looked around my bedroom. The white walls seemed to laugh at me. There I was wasting my time calling a girl that clearly didn't want to talk to me, and I just kept calling.

I stood up, deciding to get off my bed, and leave the room altogether.

What to do, what to do, what to do?

Heading for the front room, I flopped down onto the couch, grabbing the TV remote from the coffee table. I pressed the power button, and the TV flickered to life.

After a few seconds, the picture came into full focus. Robocop was playing on G4TV. Deciding I'd seen that movie two-hundred times too many, I flipped through the channels.

The Young and the Restless, Jersey Shore, Hoarders... yup, quality television here...

After only twenty seconds of flipping through utter garbage, I turned off the TV. I deeply exhaled, pressing my hands to my eyes. Nothing to do... Gwen was at college, what with it being Wednesday, so another date with her was out of the question... Aunt May was surely doing- well, she was probably doing nothing as well. I felt too tired to leave my apartment and go see her, though.

Finally, I gave in, twisted around on the couch, and lay still, attempting to get some unneeded rest. It was at this moment that I noticed something: I hadn't been following my schedule that whole week.

xXx

Alex O'Hirn tapped the bone protruding from his head. He did this for good luck, and it almost always seemed to work. Just a couple nights before, his services were once again requested by the Goblin. It seemed that the Spider-Man had finally presented a problem to his organization. Alex only knew it was a matter of time when Spider-Man first started showing up in headlines, so he wasn't surprised at all. After being offered a large sum of cash, he couldn't bring himself to refuse the job.

Not that I got anything ta' worry about... he thought to himself.

xXx

When he was born, the doctors were baffled: Alex's skull seemed disfigured, something they hadn't noticed with his ultrasounds. It was also very difficult to give him any required shots, as his skin was some of the toughest they'd ever come across. At the time, it wasn't anything to be concerned about. His cranium just seemed a little enlarged in the center above his brow line, and he was actually very lucky to have such tough skin, even if it was difficult to administer vaccines. As the months went on, the disfigurement seemed to grow. Concerned, his mother took him to the hospital, only for the doctors to turn her away with absolutely no explanation. A few years went by, and Alex, only at the age of five years old, was walking around with a large, cone-shaped knot on his head. His mother, now jobless and without money, was unable to take Alex to the hospital for another look.

Things continued this way until Alex was seventeen years of age. His mother passed away from heart failure, and Alex found himself truly alone. Living on the streets for so long taught him how to survive by himself, though, and he was able to make it on his own.

Even with his mother dead, the worst was yet to come for Alex. It was a few months after he had turned 26 that he finally became frightened. Waking up one morning, he felt immense pain where the knot on his head should have been. Reaching up to feel it, he was shocked when his finger had been jabbed by something extremely sharp. After a few more seconds of poking and prodding, Alex discovered he now had a horn jutting out of the exact area the knot had been. Retracting his hand, he spotted blood all over his fingers: the horn had torn through the knot during his sleep.

After awhile, Alex came to terms with his now major disfigurement. Over the next few years, it had even continued growing. It was unbearably painful for Alex, however, as his skin hadn't gotten any weaker since birth. As the horn grew, so did the pain in his forehead as it tore further through his skin. Eventually, when it reached an incredible size of one foot and three inches, the horn stopped growing, and the throbbing pain in Alex's head died down.

He attracted many looks from people on the streets, and usually stayed hidden in back-alleys, his only company being other homeless people. Because many of them were just as unfortunate as Alex, they had no desire or reason to gawk at his disfigurement. They became his family, in a sense.

xXx

This new job would be no problem for him. He was used to a little searching and destroying, so it was nothing new to him. Sure, he was going after the Spider-Man himself, but what made him so different from any other targets? Yes, he could shoot webs from his wrists, and climb up walls, but Alex had something that Spider-Man didn't: a sharp, one foot, three inch horn that could easily rip through human flesh and bone with the slightest of ease. The dozens of bodies with gaping holes in their chests could testify to this.

xXx

Norman talked happily into the phone.

"Everything's going according to plan it sounds, O'Hirn," he said. "See to it that that doesn't change."

"You got it."

Norman hung up, putting the cellphone into his shirt pocket.

He felt like laughing. Nothing had gone wrong so far in the expansion of his criminal empire. He'd gone through Foswell, Lincoln, Silvermane... and before too long, even the all-powerful Wilson Fisk would be dirt beneath his heel, and the name "Norman Osborn" would be synonymous with the phrase "Kingpin of Crime".

"Hehe..." Norman laughed, excited by the very thought.

O'Hirn won't fail... he CAN'T fail...

xXx

I woke up around 10 PM. Even if I didn't need the sleep, I sure as hell got it. Groggily, I got up off the couch, yawned, and stretched. With my sleeping schedule seriously screwed up now, I knew it would be difficult getting to work on time the next day.

With the city now shrouded in darkness, it was time for Spider-Man to come out and play. Before grabbing my costume, though, I decided to check the news, and see if anything crazy was going on.

Some car commercial was on, so I sat through that and waited for the news to come back on.

"And now, our top story. An as of now unnamed man with some kind of spike or horn attached to his head was causing a riot outside of the Daily Bugle, before busting through the entrance. He reportedly took several hostages in his raid on the building, one of them being the Daily Bugle's publisher himself, J. Jonah Jame-"

I turned the TV off, knowing what the night's first order of business was. Looks like my first day of work was already starting...

xXx

J. Jonah Jameson sat calmly in the corner of his office, watching his captor pace back and forth.

"Pretty ballsy of you to come in here and do this without a gun, don't you think?" Jameson snorted. "You plan on using that traffic cone you got there?"

This comment seemed to anger the man, as he turned his full attention towards Jameson, and stalked towards him.

"Pretty ballsy of you to make a remark like that," the man sneered. "I hate ta' tell ya, but you're not getting outta here alive."

Jameson rolled his eyes, unfazed by the threat. "Why keep me alive, then?"

"You're my insurance..."

The man turned back around, resuming his pacing.

"Where are the others?" Jameson asked him.

"I got that bitch and the other bastard locked up somewhere else," the man replied. "They'll be going home if the cops can find 'em."

"So, you're not completely heartless then, great..." Jameson's voice trailed off.

"Nope."

Jameson wasn't scared of death. He'd had many death threats made against him, some of them even almost going beyond just a threat, but they'd never bothered him.

"Can you just hurry this up?" Jameson asked. "I don't want my wife starting dinner if she doesn't have to..."

"In a hurry ta' die are ya?"

"Well, if you don't hurry this up, I'm going to die from boredom."

The other man laughed at this. "You're a crazy, old fool..."

Before Jameson had time to react, there was a crash, and he could hear glass fall onto the floor outside of his office.

"That's my cue," the man told him.

Suddenly, the man leaned forward, and without warning, ran straight into the door, smashing it to bits.

"That's what I call using your head!" came another voice. Without even seeing the figure, Jameson knew exactly who it was: the Spider-Man.

'Bout time...

xXx

After I got a good look at the man in front of me, I'd instantly regretted coming to the Bugle. He was a big guy, maybe six foot tall at least, looked like he weighed 300 pounds... and he had a freaking foot-long horn jutting out of his forehead. That, and he'd just used it to rip right through a door.

"Rhino..." I muttered under my breath, amazed.

"What was that?" the man asked.

I shook my head, remembering that I was facing a criminal.

"You remind me of a rhino."

He snorted. "Real funny, spider-freak."

"Actually, I was being serious."

I sprung up to the ceiling, bouncing off it, and headed straight for Rhino, feet-first. My feet connected with his chest, and a shockwave that started in my feet traveled all the way up through my body. It was like I'd rammed into Sandman all over again.

"Dammit!" I cursed, my entire legs feeling like they had fallen asleep.

"Hah!" Rhino laughed. "I don't just got this horn up here... my entire body is rock solid. I guess it pays off to be a freak."

A freak is most certainly what he was. The horn was something I could understand immediately; I was sure that he was born with some kind of strange calcium build-up in his forehead. I'd never seen anything like it, but that was my best explanation. But his body being that tough... it was completely unnatural. Then again, I have spider-powers, so I can't really say much.

"I don't suppose we could call this off?" I quipped, still majorly stunned.

"Not on your life." Rhino replied, spitting.

It was sure to be the fight of the century.

xXx

A/N: Very fast update. I had to get this out. What I have planned next will hopefully be shocking. What about that Rhino, aye? A guy with a disfigured head. Sure, it makes little to no sense, but at least it keeps up with the realism. I also threw in a lot of names there for the crime lords (Foswell is the Big Man, and Lincoln is Tombstone). Just thought I'd have a little nod there. Well... leave a review if you will!