Shades of Green

Part One

"I'll tell you this, Spider-Man." Norman replied wiping away some of the blood on his face. "You've just made me a very happy Goblin."

Peter frowned, "What's that mean?"

Norman cackled, "Glider: Fire missile two!"

It was then that Peter realized what they were facing, "No!"

Peter woke up from bed screaming. He was sweating heavily and his sheets were soaked as a result. He gazed out the window towards the full moon that hung over the sky.

This was the third time in a week that he had this dream. Peter wiped his brow and sighed wearily. The name in his dream, the Green Goblin, stuck into his mind like a dagger and tore at the very essence of his being. "What does it mean?" He felt the tingling again but this it lingered longer than ever before. His eyes slowly widened, "Something's coming."

The last time he had felt so lost was when he saw his lost Aunt May being carried away, dead. His face broke down and Peter cried into his hands.

"You're okay, Pete?" Ben inquired as he served Peter some eggs on a plate for breakfast, that Friday morning. "You look a little under the weather."

Peter raised an eye away from his eggs and turned his attention to Uncle Ben, "I guess I'm fine." He sighed, "I've just been having trouble sleeping lately."

Ben nodded, "Oh." He gestured towards the food with a nervous finger, "Go ahead, it may not be as good as May's was, but it should be pretty decent."

He pushed away the food, "I'm not hungry." Peter sighed heavily. "I appreciate the effort, though."

"Peter." Ben said warmly, "Are you alright? Do you need to talk?" The sting of Aunt May's death still was strong, on both of them. Only one month had passed since her burial.

"Not right now." Peter answered. "Believe me, uncle Ben, when the time comes we'll talk. Right now?" He shrugged, "I don't know what's wrong."

"I gotcha you." Ben said gently gripping Peter's arm, "I'll be here when you're ready, kiddo." He gazed at his watch and then back to Peter, "You better get going;"

"Hello, I'm Robbie Robertson from the Daily Bugle." The tall man said. He was dark-skinned and had white hair showing the years of experience behind him, as if every strange of old hair was a lesson learned. "I'd like to thank the principle for this opportunity."

Peter sat beside Harry Osborn in the auditorium. "Where's this guy from?" Harry inquired somewhat bored.

"The Bugle." Peter replied before turning all of his attention back to Robertson, "They're a newspaper, if I remember correctly."

Robbie gazed across the auditorium at the faces of the students to make sure he still held their attention and when he was satisfied he moved on, "We're looking for people who may be interested in an internship position with us. It looks good on your resume and once you're done with college, you're practically guaranteed a position with us."

He pointed towards a desk near the front of the auditorium, "That's Ms. Betty Brant, if you can just fill out some forms and then hand them to her, if you're interested, then we can get you to start looking at an internship right away."

"Is anybody interested?" Robbie and was immediately answered with a loud, positive, response from the crowd. He gave a nice big toothy grin and motioned to Betty and the table, "Then go right ahead." The students began to rise out of their seats, "Try and stay in a straight and orderly line. We'll get things done faster that way."

"You're coming?" Peter inquired of Harry Osborn who merely sat in his own seat.

Harry raised an eye and laughed skeptically, "Believe me, when you've got my dad, that's enough on a resume for college." He looked at the line developing, "By all means, go. I'll be here."

Peter nodded and pushed his way straight to the line. The large auditorium carried their voices and footsteps across the hall with ease. It slowed down towards the front where Robbie and Betty Brant awaited the hopeful students. Out of all the people gathered here, two thirds of the students had decided to apply.

"Hey, tiger." Peter turned around only to see the redhead, Mary Jane Watson behind him, "How are you doing?" She asked carefully.

"Fine." Peter responded dully, "No, that's not true." He rubbed his forehead, exhausted, "I feel horrible."

MJ nodded understanding his depression, "I've been there." She put her hand on his shoulder, "You're applying?" She inquired.

"Yeah." He answered, "And you?"

She shook her head, "No."

"Then why are you on the line?" Peter asked, slightly confused.

MJ shrugged, "Looked like you needed to speak to a friendly face." She responded.

Peter smiled, "I did. Thanks." He gazed at her for a moment feeling butterflies gather in his stomach and instantly could tell he was blushing, "Are you doing anything after school?"

MJ lowered her eyes as if ashamed, "Sort of."

"Hey, baby!" An irate Flash Thompson called out from one of the seats near the rear of the auditorium, "Come on, we're checking out the gym until next period."

Peter's face sank and his shoulders sank in his defeat. MJ sighed and there was a moment of sadness between them. "I've got to go." She said reluctantly before breaking out of the line.

His eyes followed her as she moved towards Flash who was standing at the door. She turned her head around for a moment and stared at him for a moment as if it would be their last. She then turned back towards Flash and followed him through the door. And with that she was gone.

"Hello?" A voice suddenly called to Peter. He turned around and saw that he was now standing directly in front of the table with Ms. Brant and Mr. Robertson staring straight at him.

"Oh." Peter said shaking the hand that Robbie had extended graciously.

Robbie pulled out a form and handed it to Peter, "Here you go. Just fill that out and hand it back." He pulled out a pen and gave it to the young student, "Just give that to me when you're done."

Peter nodded and gazed at the sheet for a moment. Most of it was pretty standard but something near the end of the sheet caught his eye. "You have a position open for photographers."

"Yeah, but I don't think you want that." Robbie replied.

"Why not?" Peter asked gazing at the title on the form with building interest.

Robbie shrugged and tugged at a hair on his jaw, "The position is very competitive and the pictures have to be very exclusive. I'd mark down the intern if I was you."

Peter rocked his head back, "How exclusive."

"Extremely." Robbie answered, "Mr. Jameson, our editor made me put it there, I doubt anybody here has pictures of something really newsworthy."

Peter leaned in, "Can I think about it?"

Robbie raised both his eyes and shrugged, "Sure. Just mail in the form by next Friday, the address is on the back."

"Thanks." Peter said moving away from the table and back up the aisle towards his seat next to a visibly bored Harry Osborn. He turned his eye back towards the paper: Photographer. He liked the sound of that.

"The power of a thousand Samson's at my fingertips." Norman Osborn clenched his fist angrily, "And here I am sitting at my desk, doing nothing with it." He lamented.

Norman gazed at the documents in front of him with very little motivation. All was ready for his march out into the world. He had already tested the common rabble of the streets and found his strength to be infinitely more powerful than they.

Things had changed at Osborn Industries in the recent weeks. After the death of Dr. Mendel Stromm, Norman had cancelled and closed down the formula Green project. This served two goals. The first moved the blame away from Norman as it looked as if he was concerned about the project's security and cooperating with the investigation and the second assured that Norman would not have contend with another formula-enhanced being anytime soon.

"What now?" Norman asked himself urgently. He had the power, but what should he do with it? The tycoon had been interested for some time in engaging a worthy foe in one-on-one combat but had thus far found none. Even after that, what then? Norman had no grand plans for world domination, but securing a seat of power in the city was very appealing.

"Mr. Osborn." The company's dull computer called out from his interface panel on the edge of Norman's desk. "Lab Twelve reports the new shipment of titanium has arrived, your authorization is needed."

Norman nodded, "Authorization granted: Osborn-Goblin." As he said those words they felt like some sort of primal totem granting him power that most men only dreamed of. "That's enough, I've been pent up for too long."

"Ms. Joyce." Norman said over the intercom to his new secretary, "I'm going to be leaving early. Please make sure everything is in order."

"Yes, Mr. Osborn." She replied immediately.

Norman turned off the intercom and smiled wickedly, "Time for some real work."

"You'll ship the weapons across the border and my boys will pick them up." Said Flint Marko dressed in a green shirt with black stripes running across it. He was a hulking figure that stuck out among his men as two parties stood in the old and abandoned warehouse on the pier.

"What assurances will we have that you'll deliver all of the weapons to their desired location?" asked the man leading the other pack of thugs. Opposed to Flint's rather sloppy looking group, the men in the other party were dressed in business suits, all except for one.

The figure standing opposite of Marko was even larger and more threatening in appearance. His baldhead seemed to shine in the light and he cracked his knuckles. The massive man cracked a smile as Flint gazed at him for a moment. His name was the Rhino.

Flint shrugged his shoulders; "I've never let Kingpin down before, what makes you think I'll try something funny now?"

"These are tough times." The other man responded, "The Feds are all over us now, top guys are getting arrested, people are becoming informants left and right." He adjusted his collar nervously, "We just want to make sure everything is on the level."

"Well it is." Flint barked angrily, "I've been in this business for years and my boy's have never screwed up a job. Ever." He raised his hands as if appealing to the man's better sense, "Go and tell Kingpin that if he's losing faith in my peoples' abilities then he can go and look for somebody else as reliable as me."

The man laughed apologetically, "No, we're not worried about you, Flint. Its just you can't watch everybody all of the time, when that happens people can slip things past you."

"Slip something past me." Flint laughed, "Never, I'm ready for anything, that anybody can dish out."

Suddenly, the wall of the warehouse exploded in a fiery show. All of the men were thrown to their feet except for Rhino who merely gazed at the fire in shock.

"We're being hit!" Flint declared, "Get your guns!" Immediately his men unleashed whatever weapons they had and gazed at the cloud of smoke that was now forming around the hole. "What is that?"

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the fire on top of a glider that levitated him off the ground. He slowly flew into the warehouse. His yellow eyes gazed at them all, "This isn't a private party is it?"

Flint shook his head stunned, "Who are you?"

The figure's skin was a reptilian sort of green. On the top his head lay a long purple cap. His gloves and boots were also the same color as his cap, as was the main part of his costume that hung over his torso. "Say hello, to the Green Goblin." He pulled a small pumpkin out from a satchel that hung from his shoulder and grinned, "Now, say goodbye." He flung the pumpkin straight at them.

Upon landing the pumpkin exploded like a grenade sending men across the warehouse. Flint narrowly dodged the explosion, "Shoot him!" He demanded.

Norman Osborn, the Goblin, cackled as the bullets zipped through the air and failed to penetrate his tough hide. He gazed down at his chest where the bullets had impacted and could still see the ends of the bullets stuck in his skin. "My turn. Glider." The on-board computer responded with a beeping noise. "Deploy forward machine guns." The small weapons popped out from their hiding spot under the surface of the glider. Norman let loose with a volley of weapons fire that began to chew up his attackers.

"Fall back!" Flint demanded as soon as they began to take losses left and right.

"That's right." Norman said as halted the machine gun fire and put the glider into acceleration. "Run, little piggy, run!" Norman grabbed another pumpkin bomb and flung it a pair of fleeing thugs. The bomb hit its target and both men were enveloped in flames.

He laughed at his sudden success but found it suddenly torn from him. The mighty Rhino smacked the end of the glider with his massive fist and put Norman into a spin.

The Goblin fell off his glider; that quickly went into a neutral position and hovered a few feet off the ground. Norman landed on his ass and frowned angrily, "Who the hell did that?" He turned his head around just in time to see the massive Rhino charging straight for him. Rhino smacked Norman away with a powerful head-but.

He crashed against a wall but managed to keep standing. He wiped away some of the blood now pouring out from his lips. "About time!" Norman declared.

"Well you're about to have more than you can handle." Rhino declared before going into another charge towards Norman.

"That's right." He said watching Rhino charge straight for him, "Just a little closer." Norman braced himself for impact and latched onto Rhino once he was close enough. The moment played out in slow motion for both of them. Norman managed to pick Rhino up off of his feet and slam his entire body straight through the floor.

"No!" Rhino screamed as he fell down through the warehouse and into the water below.

"Hope you can swim." Norman stepped away from the hole in the warehouse and gazed across the interior of the building. They were all dead. Except for Flint Marko who was crawling across the ground, his body torn apart by the shrapnel from the Goblin's grenades.

Norman walked to Flint and picked him up by his shoulders. He surveyed the damage done to Marko and smiled, "Need help finding your legs?"

Flint's eyes were wide open in fear as he stared at the cruel face of the Goblin. "Why?" He demanded, "What did we do to you?"

"Me?" Norman asked, "Why, nothing."

"Why then?" Flint asked, "Why come after us?"

Norman shrugged, "How about going one better? Why not?" He dropped Flint on the floor, "I'll call if I see a couple of spare legs running around." He began to cackle at the chaos he had wreaked and returned to his glider.

He grabbed the front of his glider and began to fly completely vertically straight for the ceiling of the warehouse. "Glider." Norman said confidently, "Fire missile one." The computer complied and a warhead was launched. It smashed straight through the roof and created an explosion that Norman rode out of the warehouse.

Norman gazed at the city in the distance as he flew towards it. He realized the victory he had scored tonight and smiled. The idea had popped into his head when he saw the men in business suits at this meeting of criminal figures. It was a lethal joining of Business and Crime; a combination that only he could attain in its most potent form. Norman Osborn would expand his enterprises control the world of business, and the Green Goblin would be rise to become the city's new crime lord. "Look out, New York. I'm gunning for you! HAHAHAHA!"