Well, I guess I got a decent enough response to the idea of an alternate personality Spidey. Thanks to those who reviewed. This is actually kind of difficult and confusing to write! I can't wait to see how I manage to pull off the story later on when things get really wild! It's gonna be a trip!

So here you go! Second chapter! Don't be scared!

Disclaimer: Spiderman and all other characters and alternate personalities (I guess…) are not mine. But that would be an interesting legal defense if I did get nailed for copyrights…

"I'm late. I'm late. I'm late," Peter Parker chanted quietly to himself as he dodged multiple pedestrians that flowed around him on the crowded streets of uptown Manhattan, "Professor Adams is going to have kittens if I show up late again for class…"

Jogging at a held back run, Peter hastened his way through the early morning logjam of business people heading to work, hoping those unfortunate enough to come in contact with his shoulder as he barreled past weren't too angry. His advanced physics class was scheduled to begin in less then five minutes and Peter was blocks away from even reaching ESU's campus.

He would have probably been in the classroom already, notebook open ready to take notes and patiently waiting for his professor to start class, but a late night out web swinging through the city had prompted Peter to hit the snooze button on his alarm clock several times that morning. When he had finally drug his tired body out of bed, he had been startled to find he had only twenty minutes until class began.

And here our frazzled hero was; rushing off late to class, unshowered, clothed in what he had conveniently found tossed on his apartment's floor from the day before, hair combed with only his fingers, and a pop-tart hanging half eaten from the corner of his mouth.

To an innocent observer, one might have mistaken the young man they saw as he rush by in the crowd as a typical college student who had just spent a late night out with friends and eating pizza. If they only knew that same boy was the spandex wearing superhero known city wide as Spiderman who was trying so hard to simultaneously lead a "normal" life…

Skidding around the corner, Peter nimbly dodged out of the path of an oncoming mass of tittering tourists, all gazing upwards to the misty tops of the surrounding skyscrapers. Sighing to himself in frustration for another split-second delay, Peter debated whether changing into Spiderman would be a warranted course of action. But he only shrugged the thought off. By the time he managed to find a private place to change into his costume and then web swing to class and then find yet another place to change back into civvies without catching the attention of some curious ESU students for finding their friendly neighborhood Spiderman visiting their college campus, it would have be just as fast to just use the good ol' fashioned mode of transportation known as walking.

But as the young photographer rushed past a common downtown newsstand hung solid in a wallpaper of various magazines and newspapers, Peter caught the tail end of a news report over the seller's portable TV/radio.

"…Police have been deployed to the scene but squads already there have been meet with failure at trying to stop the perpetrator from taking hostages. There are an estimated twenty people in the bank, including tellers and customers, under the control of the criminal. There are unconfirmed reports that the person responsible for these events is the city's masked resident, Spiderman. It has been reported that he entered by using a small bomb of some sort; demolishing half the front of the bank and surrounding buildings…"

Halting dead in his tracks, Peter's heart leapt into his throat at what he heard. Did he just hear right? Did he just hear that Spiderman was seen knocking over a bank? Rushing over to the flannel jacketed newspaper seller who was huddled to the far side of the booth, the boy called out in a slightly squeaky voice due to shock, "What's going on?"

"Looks like Spiderman is holding up a bank a couple blocks away from here. The TV says he has hostages too," the bearded new seller grunted as a response to Peter in a heavy Brooklyn accent, his eyes never leaving the tiny screen of his portable TV.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Peter asked hurriedly as he leaned over the edge of the stand to crane his neck inside to see the TV, "Are they sure it's Spiderman?"

"That's what they're saying kid," the seller shrugged, "You know, I always thought that Spiderman was one of the good guys. I never really believed all those things the Daily Bugle says about him, but after this I'm not sure…" Tearing his eyes away from the screen for the first time to glance at the overly curious boy that was practically leaning flat over the counter of his stand, the man coughed gruffly, "You gonna buy anything, kid?"

Snapping out of his shocked trance, Peter jumped straight from off the counter at the man's warning tone. Not to be deterred though, the young man asked urgently, "Where's all this happening?"

Scanning the unmade boy before him from head to toe skeptically, the man said as he thrust a finger out to point down the street, "Down five blocks on 23rd…"

But before he could say anything else, the tussle haired boy took off down the street in the direction indicated at a speed faster then the seller had ever seen.

Already half a block away, Peter thought dejectedly, 'Great. I'm going to miss another class. And to make my day complete, there's some imposter running around too! My day just can't get any better…'

Swerving into a nearby alley, Peter disappeared into the dark shadows behind an overflowing dumpster positioned near the end of the side street. Several moments later, the soft 'thwip' of webbing splashed against the side of the building. Another half second later, the brightly red and blue painted costume of Spiderman shot out of the alley into the morning sunlight. As the superhero shot through the concrete canyons of New York, the distant wails of police sirens echoed in the distance.

************

Leaping nimbly from the end of his strand of webbing onto the cornice of a building, Spiderman looked down onto the street far below him in utter horror. In the T intersection of 23rd and Clayton, the building face of 'Alliance Banking' looked like it had taken the blunt of an all out war.

Gaping craters marred the old building's brick face like an exploded minefield. But the worst was a gaping charred edged hole on the right hand side of the bank front, a mountain of chunks of brick laying beneath it. Shattered glass carpeted the sidewalk like freshly fallen snow from beneath broken windows all around. Even a nearby light post unfortunate enough to have been placed too close to the normally quiet, downtown bank lay in a ball of twisted metal as though it was nothing more then crumbled piece of paper.

Twenty or more feet away, on the opposite side of the street, blockaded four police cars with ten or more police officers crouching warily from behind opened car doors, their guns drawn and aimed toward the bank's front doors. An ambulance sat idling nearby, its spinning siren lights mixed with those of the squad cars cast a kaleidoscope of colors off the fronts of the surrounding buildings. Howls of sirens screamed through the crisp, early morning air.

Another squad car lay upturned on its back like a discarded child's toy in the center of the standoff between the police and the front of crippled bank building. Milling behind temporary blockades set up by the officers, stood close to fifty curious New Yorkers, waiting to see a good show.

Even from several stories up, Spiderman could hear the commanding officer shouting clearly over a loudspeaker into the battle scarred bank, "Spiderman! We know you're in there! We have the area surrounded. Come out quietly with your hands in the air or we will be forced to take drastic action!"

"Agh! No! They think it's me in there!" Spiderman cried to himself in dread. The last thing he needed for his shaky public reputation was to be labeled as a bank robber. "That's it…" he muttered as he vaulted himself over the wide avenue below him high onto the building's side, too far overhead to be noticed by the armed officers below street level, "I'm hiring myself a lawyer. There has to be laws out there about impersonating a superhero. And if there's not, then there should be! I could probably retire on the money I sue from all these guys passing themselves off as me."

Skittering across the building face, Spiderman found an open window and crept inside. Whoever was responsible for this was going to be meeting the real Spiderman in just a few seconds. And then he was going to see what it was like fighting a ticked off crime fighter who got only a couple hours of sleep the night before and who hadn't even had time for a cup of coffee from Starbucks.

"Oh, yeah, buddy…You just wait. You'll be sorry. I'm not in the gentle mood this morning," the wall crawler murmured to the unsuspecting, mysterious imposter several stories below.

********

Meanwhile several stories below, the mysterious imposter indeed waited, pacing the polished floor of the bank irritably, his boots' high pitched squeaking making the only sound above the background noise of police sirens and shouts from outside. His group of cowering hostages sat huddled together in a tight mass of limbs in the far corner of the bank lobby waiting anxiously for any sign of rescue.

The interior of the bank was one of those old fashioned, turn of the century styles. High oak counters spanned the far left side of the room, polished to an antique shine from countless people over the years using it to transact money. Large desks of similar make, dotted the other side of the rectangular lobby. White marble covered the floor while several pillars spiraled upwards to the two story ceiling high above alone the one side of the wide room. Revolving doors stood in the center of the front of the lobby, in between two banks of fifteen foot high windows.

Unfortunately, the once grand bank had seen better days. The whole right side of the room near the front was charred to a blackened crisp around a still smoking hole that had been punched through the building's front by a powerful explosion. Everything within twenty feet of that area lay burnt and upturned from the devastating blast. Several standing displays promoting from low interest rate loans and checking systems on the other side of the lobby lay twisted and burnt on the rubble strewn floor.

In the far back corner of the bank, huddled the group of terrified employees and customers that were now the bank robber's hostages. Each sat helplessly, wrapped tightly in individual straight jackets of sticky white webbing their captor had secured them in when he had first broke into the bank in an unsuspected fiery explosion that had charred half the bank's interior.

Rubble and shards of broken glass lay amidst several charred corpses that ay motionless among the devastating chaos of the bank who had been killed indiscriminately when a sudden small object had shattered through the front windows and suddenly exploded in a brilliant flash of heat and light.

Many of the surviving victims' faces lay covered under a thick layer of soot and dirt, making the whites of their frightened eyes stand out in stark contrast to their blacked faces.

There was no sound or movement from the group of hostages except for the occasional murmured sob of fear from one of its female members. Their captor had already demonstrated what he would do if any of them made any move for escape or retaliation.

The poor teller that had been their example lay unconscious off to the side, his head marinating in a pool of sticky red blood. His head sat like a crushed melon, it contents spilled across the floor in a small display of violence the masked man holding them captive was capable of.

But what didn't make any sense to any of them, was that the man responsible for all this destruction and killing had not asked for any money or yet made any demands. He had only tied up the surviving bank staff and patrons and stood waiting until the police had finally arrived several minutes ago. But still he had not made any movement to steal any money or flee the scene. It was almost as if he was waiting for someone…

Every time the costumed man's irritable pacing grew close to the huddled group of frightened hostages, the whole mass cringed back as though it was a single organism. They had seen what that man would do without even the slightest provocation.

Suddenly from outside, carrying over the howls of police sirens, a bullhorn distorted masculine voice called out, "Spiderman! We know you're in there! We have the area surrounded! Come out quietly with your hands in the air or we will be forced to take drastic action!"

Stopping his pacing, the blue and red clad criminal snorted disdainfully from behind his mask, "Drastic action my ass…those cowards won't do anything as long as I have hostages. How pathetic…"

Glancing down at the shivering mass of frightened hostages, the cold white eyepieces of Spiderman's crimson mask slowly scanned his victims as though they were cattle be lead away to the slaughterhouse. The group held a collective breath of tension as they felt he criminal's malicious gaze fall upon them, shivering uncontrollably in fear until his hooded head swiveled away to size up the next helpless soul to be caught in his sights.

Coming to the edge of the trembling group, the Spiderman look alike towered above his prey saying in a tone of artificially manufactured, patronizing gentleness, "I'm sorry to inconvenience you folks like I have this morning but I assure you, you'll all be free to go as soon as my intended guest gets here. He's a little bit late as you can all see. And since I'm not the most patient person in the world by any measure, I'm going to have to give him a small incentive to hurry up…"

Stooping down with inhuman grace to look eye to eye with one of the men cowering at the edge of the group of twenty or more hostages, the Spiderman double smiled evilly under his mask. Look how helpless they were; tied up in constricting cocoons of his own specially spun webbing. How easy it was going to be to overrun this city. Spiderman's victims wiggled vainly against the steel like strands as the man stared down at him.

The man Spiderman had chosen had been one of the five unsuspecting tellers he had snared with a web line and had retched from behind their counters before any of them could realize what was happening and trigger the silent alarm system. The teller had to have been no younger then mid forties with thinning auburn hair and a chubby gut.

Spiderman utterly reveled in how the poor, frightened man tried to edge away from him as he reached a gloved hand out to grip his shirt. And how he loved that look of complete helplessness in the man's terrified eyes as he lifted him as easily as a rag doll off the polished bank floor and dangled him several feet off the ground as he stood straight.

"Spiderman, why are you doing this?" the dangling bank teller chocked out in squeaky intervals from behind the criminal's closed fist that held him aloft by the throat, "I always thought you were a good person. You've always saved and protected people. What are you doing?"

A wicked laugh broke out from behind the black spider web etched scarlet mask. The startled man in the criminal's grasp shuddered involuntarily as the sadistic laugh sent cold shivers up and down his spine.

"Is that true?" Spiderman asked in great amusement as his laughter began to subside, "Then I guess we're going to have to see if this superhero you love so much will show up in time to save you. I'm beginning to get a little bored waiting for him."

A look of surprise and incomprehension passed over the red faced man's features as Spiderman hauled him carelessly towards the bank of shot out windows along the front wall of the demolished bank. Stepping confidently to the first half shattered window he came to, Spiderman lowered the pitiful man down to shield his own muscular body. From the other side of the street, he could hear the police cocking their weapons warily as he came to a stop at the edge of shattered glass.

Leaning his head close to the strangled bank teller's ear, the malicious wall crawler whispered, "Scream. As loud as you can. I want him to hear you…If you don't, I'll kill you right here and now and get somebody else who will. I'm sure he'll come quicker if I got one of those pretty ladies over there…"

The man's blood thundered in his ears, but he had still heard what the murder had said. Scream in terror or be killed. Was it really that much of a stretch to do as Spiderman ordered? Needing no more prompting, the man opened his mouth, intent on releasing the pent of cry of fear that had been welling up in him since the very beginning of this horrifying experience.

But before any sound came from his tight throat, the man suddenly felt the arms holding him up in front of the sinful criminal become tense as if sensing something in the air.

"He's here…" The teller heard mumbled from close behind him.

Before he could realize what was happening or who Spiderman was talking about, he felt a gentle, wet slap of something on the tip of his right shoulder accompanied by a subdued 'thwip'. Unable to turn his head to see what the thing that hit him was, he suddenly felt a powerful yank on his shoulder. Retched from Spiderman's grip, the startled teller suddenly found himself spinning head over heels in the air.

Yelping in surprise and fear as the world blurred and spun around him in a dizzying array, the teller slammed his eyes close. He felt himself flying through the air before he suddenly foun himself colliding with what felt like a solid wall of muscle. Startled, the poor bank teller was surprised to hear a calm voice as he felt a set of muscular arms catch his shivering form, stopping his speeding body abruptly, "Are you ok, Sir? Sorry I couldn't get here sooner. Traffic was terrible."

Opening his sooty eyes to see who was talking to him, the man wanted to scream in refreshed terror as the shiny eyepieces of Spiderman's red mask stared down at him. Either not noticing his expression or just choosing to ignore it, the web swinging hero landed nimbly on the polished floor of the bank lobby, his midair rescue of the man complete.

Only seconds before, the masked man had entered unnoticed into the bank's large lobby through a conveniently placed air vent on the back wall of the room. Assessing the situation quickly as he skittered to the center of the room along the ceiling upside down, Spiderman had immediately seen the dangling form of a trussed victim held up by one of the front windows of the banking establishment.

Snapping a strand of webbing down to snare the frightened victims shoulder, Spidey had pulled back hard, pulling the man from his captor's grip and sending him flying through the air. While simultaneously leaping down from his perch high above, the superhero had managed to easily catch the hurtling teller from a bone crushing landing.

"Spiderman?" the man squeaked in disbelief and incomprehension, "But how? You just…Two Spidermen?"

Finally, the traumatic stress the poor bank teller had endured for the last half hour or so became too much. His eyes fluttering up into his head, he slumped to the ground from between his savior's arms, fainting away into unconsciousness.

"Yeah. It looks like I have an evil twin causing a lot of trouble for me today," the web swinger muttered tightly in response to the unconscious man as he gently placed the limp body on an un-scorched patch of polished floor behind a still standing desk near the huddled group of trussed hostages. Giving the amassed group of frightened victims a quick glance to make sure they were safe for the moment, Spiderman noticed a number of the people wincing away from him as he turned towards them.

"Don't worry, folks. This will all be over soon. I'm here to help," Spidey said reassuringly in his most gently voice. Unfortunately, many of the terrified looks from their soot covered faces said his words held little to no meaning to the traumatized hostages.

'Great,' the wall crawler thought angrily to himself, 'I bet Jameson just got twenty new avid Spiderman-haters added to the Bugle's yearly subscription list…'

Breaking though Spiderman's thoughts came a strangely familiar masculine voice, "'Bout time you decided to show up. I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

Looking over his shoulder to the origin of the voice, Spiderman could only stare in shock at what, or rather, who he saw. Standing confidently on the other side of the half demolished bank lobby, stood what could have been Spiderman's mirror image. He had known there had been reports of an imposter bombing his way into the building, but the web swinger was still taken aback by the sight of his exact double.

Recovering quickly, Spidey called confidently, "Chameleon, is that you? It has to be. You're the only one capable of mimicking yourself to look so much like me. You've just sunk to an all time low, you know that? I thought you would have had a little bit more creativity then trying that same old, tired scheme of trying to frame me and destroy my reputation. The whole imposter plot's been driven into the ground and buried years ago."

"So that shape shifter is still alive here then? Interesting…" Spidey's look alike muttered to himself thoughtfully, much to Spiderman's surprise and confusion.

"Wait a minute…if you're not the Chameleon, then who are you?" Spiderman questioned in confusion, taking a hesitant step closer to the imposter.

"Let's just say I'm your better half," the other Spiderman said smugly, secretly enjoying toying with the superhero's mind.

"Yeah right. Unless your some kind of clone, you're nothing but some cheap imposter running around in tights…Only I'll have you know there's a double standard when I wear them--then it's a superhero costume," Spidey snorted, warily sidestepping away from the group of tied hostages and into the center of the bank lobby to clear room to fight the imposter. A small tingle of his spider-sense at the base of his skull warned Spidey to be cautious with this stranger. The superhero knew he had to think of a plan quick. Something unspeakable inside the wall crawler screamed that this double was more then he seemed and was very dangerous.

But before the wall crawler could form a plan of attack in his head to take the look alike criminal down, a sudden insistent sting from the base of his skull subconsciously shocked him into leaping several feet back as the squishy splat of something wet hit the ground where he had just been standing only half a second before.

Looking down at the mass of white goo that lay in a small pile at his feet, Spiderman realized with a sickening start what had been launched at him. Stooping down to the pile, the web swinger slowly reached a shaking hand out towards it.

'No…It can't be…webbing?!' Spidey's thoughts thundered in his head as he brushed one of his gloved fingers across the surface of the already congealing substance.

"I assure you…I am no imposter. And I am no clone," the other Spiderman whispered in a dangerous tone of warning. As if to prove his point, the man peeled back the edge of his right glove, exposing the naked skin of his upturned wrist and lower forearm. At the base of the heel of his hand, there lay a patch of raised, scar tissue colored flesh; the undeniable proof of the inhuman, web producing spinneretts that lay hidden under a thin layer of flesh. To further his point the costumed man reiterated in a low voice meant only for Spiderman's ears, "This is no trick."

"But how? How can you have the same powers as me?" Spidey demanded, now somewhat frightened by this mysterious double of himself. Subconsciously, he lowered himself closer to the ground, bobbing his head from side to side warily like an animal analyzing just what kind of danger the creature before him posed. An insistent tingle at the base of Spiderman's skull vibrated warningly as the other Spiderman spoke.

"That's going to be my little secret for now."

"Ok then, chuckles. Enough with the twenty questions. Just tell me; why are you doing all this?" Spiderman asked then, extremely suspicious but at the same time curious of this man. Could it be there was another person in the world with the same powers as him? But how would he have gotten his powers, Spidey wondered helplessly. There couldn't have been two cases of a genetically altered spider biting someone…could there?

Spiderman could almost see a sly smile spread itself out across the man's face even from beneath his crimson hood as he said plainly, "I just wanted to get your attention."

For a moment, Spidey didn't know how to process that. The wall crawler stood speechless, anger suddenly boiling in his chest. Exploding in disbelief, the web swinger cried, "You bombed your way into a bank full of innocent people just to get my attention? You killed people…just to get my attention?!" Venom tainted the normally calm and collected superhero's voice.

"In a nutshell…Yes. It wasn't much fun though, if it makes you feel any better," the other Spiderman shrugged almost proudly.

Teeth clenched so tight together in rage, Spiderman's jaw actually trembled under the pressure as he narrowed his eyes at his mirror image. Red flared before his vision. If there was one thing that made Spiderman lose his cool, it was the outright killing of innocent people. And to make that inexcusable crime worse to the web slinger, the crime had been committed by a murderous man proclaiming to be him: Spiderman, who in reality was only a young man trying to protect innocent people and make a difference in a cruel and merciless world.

"You're…a monster," the wall crawler growled angrily as he leapt to crouch on the edge of a nearby desktop in agitation. "What do you want with me? What was so important that you did this?" he demanded, again bobbing his head like an insect subconsciously in readiness for action.

The other Spiderman stood cockily, his feet planted firmly far apart beneath his shoulders and arms jutting akimbo to his body to rest on his narrow hips. Cocking his hooded head to the side, the imposter replied almost innocently, "Nothing…for now. I just wanted you to know who's going to make your life a living nightmare...then kill you."

"Oh, here we go!" Spidey exclaimed, back flipping to cling to the wall, trying to draw the man farther from the huddled hostages, "So what your story? What did I do to you? Everyone else seems to have an interesting take on why they hate me. Just ask Venom. He blames me for everything that's ever happened to him."

"You've done nothing to me directly," the other Spiderman replied emotionlessly, looking up towards the wall crawler to where he clung to the wall, "I just want your life."

"My life?" Spidey asked, his eyebrows knotting together in the center of his face under his mask, "What are you talking about?"

Chuckling to himself, the imposter called out, "That's going to be another of my secrets for now. But don't worry, you'll find out soon. I know all about you. All I need to do is get my little group of friends together, then we can have some real fun. I just wanted to give you the heads up…It'll make everything so much more interesting. I'll be in touch…"

Turning on his heels, the criminal Spiderman sprung like a coil to the wall of the bank lobby that stood unscorched from the initial bomb explosion from before. On the other side of the room, Spidey looked on in amazement as the costumed man's fingers and toes gripped he white washed walls and quickly skittered along the length of the lobby, just like he could.

"Hey, wait a minute! You're going nowhere!" the masked superhero cried out after the retreating figure. Springing off the wall he had been stuck to, Spidey bounced and flipped in a beautiful display of accuracy across the rubble strewn floor of the bank to the other side. Coming out of a handspring on his toes, the web swinger jumped straight up towards the fleeing murderer.

Snapping his wrist back, Spidey let a thick strand of webbing fly, intent on snaring his frighteningly agile double's ankle to pull him back to the ground and then web him up for the police to deal with. Unfortunately, the young hero's plan proved fruitless as his mirror image suddenly twisted his body away from the strand mid stride against the wall, successfully evading the webbing.

"Nice try, Hero. But you are going to have to do better," the Spiderman costumed criminal snidely mocked over his shoulder, "I can do everything you can. So you're going to have to learn to beat yourself at your own game if you want to live."

Spiderman didn't quite know how to take that comment before the other Spiderman suddenly contorted his body in a wild twist and kicked off the wall to free fall towards the ground. In one fluid motion, his double quickly snatched a flat but indistinguishable object from some hidden pocket stowed in the red stripe that circled his waist and tossed it in Spidey's direction as he plummeted past his pursuer.

"Hey!" was the wall crawler's only cry of surprise before a sudden explosion of light and concussion shock wave violently shook the air around his body. Startled, the web swinger felt himself lose grip of the wall. Blinded by the flash of pure white that left bright spots before his eyes, Spiderman suddenly found himself falling towards the ground. The explosion hadn't been one meant for mass destruction or to kill Spiderman but rather one to distract and blind him momentarily. And it had worked perfectly.

If he had been even a fraction of a bit more prepared for that attack, Spiderman may have recovered quick enough to snap out a web line and slow his wild fall to the bank lobby floor. But the wall crawler hadn't and met the cold polished floor twenty feet below with the blunt of his left shoulder. Yelping at the stinging pain from the harsh collision, Spidey managed to catch himself in a roll.

Laying stunned in a heap, the young hero felt a shower of plaster rain down on his momentarily debilitated body as the final subsonic concussion wave of the surprise explosion rolled away into the distance. Beyond the loud ringing in his ears, Spiderman could barely make out the distant shouts of voices nearing from outside the bank.

"Ugh!" the web swinger grunted in pain as he hoisted himself to his knees groggily. Gingerly rotating his numbed shoulder as he stood, Spidey winced as stabs of pure white pain fired like lightening down the length of his left arm. "Where did he go?" Spiderman muttered, swallowing the pain as he snapped his partially tattered hooded head around to scan the now almost completely demolished bank lobby.

Nothing. The imposter was gone, almost like a ghost. The only persons in the wide and high ceilinged lobby were the cowering and whimpering group of frightened hostages in the far corner of the room and the battered superhero.

'Where did he go?' Spiderman wondered, startled, 'Nobody pulls a fast one like that…except for me. Minus the light show, of course.'

But before he could worry the case any further, a loud, bullhorn distorted voice crackled the air from just outside the bank, "Spiderman! Surrender now! If you don't give yourself up, the police will storm the building!"

"Uh oh… Got to get out of here…" Leaping to the wall where the air vent he had entered through stood, Spiderman gave a last minute glance over the demolished bank lobby before disappearing away into heating system of the building. So many killed, and he hadn't been able to even apprehend the murderer. It was his fault he hadn't gotten there in time to save more lives. But it was sure the media was going to blame Spiderman none the less…but also for good reasons.

Seconds later, ten officers stormed through the gaping hole of the front of the bank, gun drawn and training around the room for any sign of retaliation from the suspected criminal, Spiderman. But all they found were the unharmed, whimpering hostages in the back of the lobby and several other unconscious bomb victims that were barely clinging to life under layers of debris near the explosion site. But no sign of the masked man blamed for the fatal bombing. Spiderman was gone.

Later news reports would crowd the air waves screaming about the allegations and first hand sightings of the hostages of there being two Spidermen being seen. Some newscast posed the question if Spiderman had finally became a dangerous criminal and ganged up with another villain while others wondered if Spiderman had always been in fact two super powered men. Whatever the case, Peter Parker spent the rest of the day in his apartment, letting Spiderman lay low until the initial panic of the bank bombing died down a bit, wondering things much along the same lines. How could there be two Spidermen? Where could the other man have possibly gotten his powers--the same exact powers as his own?! What trouble was this new turn of events going to lead to? Peter didn't know, but his frighteningly similar double had said he would find out soon. Meaning he was just going to have to be on his toes and ready for whatever this guy planned to pull…

How was that? A little confusing? Maybe… Anyway, I actually wanted to add another scene into this chapter but it would have made it too long. So the last of these 'leading up' scenes will be the next time around. So till next chapter…

-LAXgirl