Hello. Welcome to my first Spiderman story. As much as I'd like to, I do
not own any of the characters they all belong to marvel. In case you're
wondering, I'm following the movie story line, so this story is going to
take place between movies 1 and 2. Please be patient with my story, all
will become revealed soon enough. Thanks a lot,
--Peach man
Spiderman Issue #9 – Realities
Not much sleep on this particular night. Peter sat on his bedroom windowsill, gazing out into the city and breathing deeply. There was too much on his mind to sleep, too much to eat, too much to think. He took another deep breath before deciding that he needed to get out. In a flash he was in his costume, and swinging through the streets. He landed softly atop of a building, sitting on the edge and watching the ongoing traffic below. Even at three thirty in the morning, traffic was still running.
The same question continuously plagued his mind over and over. How was he going to do this interview when Paul wanted peter there to take the pictures? How on earth could he do this? He let out another deep sigh before letting himself slide off the building edge and fall through the air. At the last second, he spun a web line and swung himself to safety, catching a metallic pole and spinning around. The rush made his adrenaline flow, and a grin spread across his face.
"I guess there's not much I can do." Spiderman said to himself, watching the traffic.
He sat for several minutes pondering what to do. Another topic that still raked through his brain was the disappearance of Curt Conners. Where Hobgoblin had taken curt, Spiderman had no idea. He was at a loss for ideas, he couldn't think of any place for the goblin to take him.
At four thirty, Spiderman was too tired to keep his eyes open. He slowly swung himself back to the apartment, yawning in the cool night breeze. He made it home, and leaped through his window in traditional fashion, and then passed out on his bed, finally too tired to stay awake.
Morning came as quick as peter had closed his eyes. It felt as if he hadn't slept at all. He remembered removing his Spiderman mask, but left the rest of his costume on. Thankfully, that's all he needed today. After a quick shower, he suited up, placing regular clothing over his costume.
It was eleven thirty, and he had an hour and a half to meet Paul. The Spiderman meeting was scheduled for two o'clock, peter was supposed to be there in advance and have Spiderman enter via the front entrance. These were the details Peter was emailed late last night from Paul. Before Peter's midnight stroll he had been online for a few minutes and received an urgent email from Paul.
The time had come, and he was anxious about the meeting. He left his apartment, it was silent and a cold breeze blew through the house, sending shivers up Peter's spine as he left. The subway ride was short and boring, someone smelt of cheese and mold. And of course the person was standing next to peter, breathing and coughing heavily. It seemed like forever before he had made it to the street.
As he strolled down the street, his eyes studied the clouds as they passed, the white clumps taking the shapes of Mary Jane, and pumpkin bombs. Peter quickly shook his head, glancing back at the street in front of him. He turned the corner, and exactly what he didn't want was about to happen. J. Jonah Jameson was walking up the street towards Parker, his hands tucked deeply in the pockets of his huge jacket. His eyes studied the ground, a thick cigar handing out of the side of his mouth. As Peter neared him they made eye contact.
"Kid." Jameson said, giving him the nod. "How's it going?"
"Alright." Peter replied, rather stiffly.
"How's the job hunt going?" He asked.
"Found one." Peter answered.
"Oh really? Fast food joint? Careful, places like that cause major acne, kid your age." Jameson said.
"No, I work for the Manhattan Metro now." Peter retorted, getting tense.
"Whose running that place now?" Jameson asked.
"Paul Heaton." Peter answered.
"That's strange. Never heard of him. I thought someone else was running it, guy by the name of George... eh, things change I guess." Jameson said.
"I got the job right after you let me go." Peter said.
"Ohh, so they do free lance too huh?" Jameson added.
"I'm their official Spiderman photographer." Peter said, smiling smugly.
"I see. I got one of those. Names Brock, he's pretty good." Jameson said.
"He's alright. He doesn't get his story straight though. I've got to run." Peter said, walking past Jameson
Jameson called out to peter, but the words were lost to him. They sounded like "take care" but it was probably a mistake. Peter pushed through the doors of the Manhattan Metro, and climbed the stairs, heading to the main offices. As he walked through the door, he was stunned to find every cubicle empty. No keyboards clicking, no printers running absolute silence.
He slowly walked towards the end of the room, passing each cubicle cautiously and suspiciously. Peter's camera dangled back and forth as he stepped, the lens reflecting light as he turned his body. He neared the end of the cubicle, placing his hand on the doorknob of Paul's door. His spider sense didn't go off. Peter opened the door.
Paul was running back and forth, adjusting the pictures on the wall and dusting off tabletops and corners. He had made quite an addition to "The Wall of Spiderman" since peter had last been in the office. Every picture that had been printed of Spiderman in the last few weeks was posted, more than once on this wall. Several of the pictures contained images of the Hobgoblin as well. Actually quite a few images on this wall were of the hobgoblin, some that Peter had never seen before in any magazines.
"How ya doin' Pete? Thanks so much for coming today." Paul said.
"No problem. Listen I can't stay long, I'm just going to set up my camera and it's going to take pictures as soon as I set it." Peter replied.
"How will we know when the pictures being set?" Paul asked.
"I'll set it up before I leave, all you have to do is press a small button when Spiderman gets here, and it will be all set." Peter said.
"Here," Paul called to him.
He handed peter a wad of one hundred dollar bills, and Peter took them smiling widely. All eight hundred dollars were there, with a couple of extra twenties as well. He stuffed the wad into his pocket and shook Paul's hand before exiting.
Peter ran down the hallway, running past the cubicles and out the front door. He stopped in the main hallway and removed his over clothing, revealing the Spiderman costume. He quickly slipped his gloves on, and removed his shoes. He webbed the bundle of clothing up and threw it up towards the ceiling, webbing it firmly in place. With that, he slid his mask on, exiting the Manhattan Metro.
With a quick amount of work, peter was outside of Paul's office window and he swung in rather quickly, landing on the floor in a crouched position. Paul let out a loud laughter, he sounded like a giddy school child. Spiderman stood, folding his arms and studying Paul.
"So I hear you wanted to see me?" Spiderman asked.
"Yes! Thank you so much for coming! It truly is an honor!" Paul yelled.
The two shook hands and Paul offered Spiderman a chair in front of his desk. Spiderman reluctantly took it, sitting down rather uncomfortably in the chair. Paul stood, walking over to the camera that was mounted on the wall facing the desk. He made sure the cap was off before pressing the button. Quickly he hurried back to his desk and sat down, pulling out his pad of paper.
"So...Where should I begin...Oh, How did you get your powers?" Paul asked.
"Well it's a long story, lets just say some scientists didn't watch their specimen." Spiderman replied rubbing his forearm.
"Okay, How did you decide to fight crime and not use these powers to make yourself some money?" Paul asked again.
"Someone very dear to me died, which made me want to bring the scum to justice. He taught me very important lessons which I hold dear today." Spiderman answered.
"Lets jump ahead a little bit," Paul began. "What do you think of the Hobgoblin?"
Spiderman's breath became sharp, he inhaled deeply and really wasn't ready for this one. Paul seemed different somehow; he wasn't the same charismatic man he had first met. Something seemed a bit different about him and he didn't know what it was. There was a new glare in his eye, one he'd never seen in anyone's before.
"Well?" he asked again, the stare deepening.
"I think he's a green goblin knockoff. He has no skills on a glider, and his laugh is obnoxious." Spiderman said with a chuckle.
Now he understood where he had seen the glare before. Paul seemed somewhat ticked at his last comment, and had the same sickening glare. His glare was the same as Norman Osborn's. Another sharp breath, and Spiderman tried to convince himself to go on with the interview.
"I think that you are passing judgment to this goblin." Paul began again. "I mean he's at least clever about his work.
"I don't think that sitting on a building top reading off a list of demands is clever." Spiderman retorted.
"Yes but he's more menacing than the green goblin, he doesn't care about killing the innocents!" Paul screamed.
"Neither did green goblin. And at least Green Goblin could fight, this orange caped dope cant fight for his life." Spiderman joked.
To keep himself calm, Spiderman had been counting camera clicks. Paul was furious, a vein in his forehead stuck out and his face was flushed. Spiderman couldn't figure out why Paul was so mad, he was only being his usual sarcastic self. 'Maybe he was disappointed, and expected more out of me?' Spiderman wondered. Nevertheless the interview continued.
"You know, I've followed your career since you first started spinning webs Spiderman, from the first robber you apprehended up until your fight with Hobgoblin just yesterday." Paul said, a bit more lightly hearted than earlier.
"Oh really? Well thanks, a lot of people think I'm a bad person," Spiderman said, trying to change the subject.
"Oh and why is that?" He asked.
"Can't say, I save people continuously and still people think I'm evil. Or that I have eight arms..." Spiderman trailed off.
"Hm... how foolish of them. I admire you a lot Spiderman, so much in fact I bought you a small gift." He said, opening his desk drawer.
He tensed, 'what was Paul up to?' Spiderman swallowed hard, watching Paul's movements and what he placed on the desk It was a small box, dressed in orange with a green bow tied around the top.
"Go on, open it."
He lifted the top to find what he expected. It was a small orange orb in the shape of a pumpkin, its leering face shining and lighting with intensity. Spiderman's eyes widened and he threw the box away from him, towards the door and it exploded on impact. Pieces of wood and plaster fell to the floor, a thick cloud of smoke drifting through the room. Spiderman back flipped right out of the chair and landed crouched on the floor, awaiting any more movement.
From the smoke rose a figure, with a light yellow mask on, the face twisted in an unpleasant expression. A pair of red eyes fixated on Spiderman, and the devilish laughter filled the office. It was Paul's body, correction it was Paul, wearing the Hobgoblin mask. From the desk, Paul pulled the drawers open and threw razor bats, eight of them to be exact. Spiderman flipped, attempting to dodge them and was cut several times, causing him to scream and fall to the ground.
"That's it Spiderman, scream! It's not a party unless everyone's yelling!" Paul/Hobgoblin yelled.
He had now pulled the orange cloak out of his desk and draped it over his body, pulling the hood up and over his head. He cackled loudly, and pulled out two more bombs.
"I'd really hate to defeat you like this. I mean, c'mon, I thought I sucked at fighting!" Hobgoblin yelled.
He began to walk toward Spiderman again and landed a firm kick in his side. Spiderman gasped, holding his side and rolling away from Paul, avoiding the second sickening kick. The cackle filled the air once again, so deep that it shook Spiderman to his bones. He turned his head just in time to see both bombs sailing through the air.
They danced, midair merrily, their smiles wide and ludicrous. Time seemed to stop, and Spiderman was on his feet, dashing away from the two bombs in what took forever. Both hit the ground and exploded. The wooden floor gave way, the boards cracking and falling in with intensity. He was in the air, spinning a thin stream of webbing and swinging his way out of the office.
Dust filled the air, and so did more laughter. Spiderman sat in the corner of the ceiling, glancing down at the office door, waiting for the hobgoblin to emerge yet again. He breathed heavily and began to shake.
"Come on out!" He yelled to the office door.
The Hobgoblins hideous face slid out from behind the door, a demonic grin spread from ear to ear.
"Sure thing Webs."
Hobgoblin dashed out of the office, digging into the small pouch of his cloak. How he had survived the floor caving in Spiderman didn't know. Hobgoblin was throwing pumpkin bombs like it was Halloween all over again, and the explosions were violent, knocking several large pieces of plaster down from the ceiling. When he finally tired, Spiderman was on the offensive, and leaped, hitting the goblin with a fierce kick.
"Take that Gobby!" He screamed.
The hobgoblin flew backward, slamming into an office cubicle, and flipping over the side. Spiderman could hear the crash of a monitor and several more unidentified noises. Then there was silence. Slowly, he walked toward the cubicle, his fists out and ready to fight. When he finally approached the cubicle, his head glanced over the wall, scanning the floor. Hobgoblin wasn't there.
"Trick or treat?"
From behind him, hobgoblin landed a vicious punch, knocking Spiderman off balance, and then followed it with a forearm smash to the back of the head. He tripped, falling into the cubicle and slamming his face off the side of the separator. Blood left his nose, dousing the interior of his mask and causing him to cough violently.
"What's wrong? I thought I wasn't a good fighter?" the goblin teased.
Spiderman lifted the bottom of his mask, letting the blood run freely onto the floor and spat, trying to relieve his mouth of the liquid. He pulled the mask back down after a few short moments and was ready to go again.
"Is your break over? Good, its time to finish this." Hobgoblin screamed.
Spiderman reached forward, grabbing Hobgoblin by the throat and slammed him into the cubicle separator. He leaned in forward, talking in complete sincerity.
"You talk WAY too much." He snarled.
With that, he landed a solid punch to the goblins temple, and followed it with a few more, each punch a direct hit to the villain's head. Hobgoblin fell backwards onto the floor, holding his face in agony.
"It's not over yet, get up."
He picked the goblin up over his head, and threw him across the room; he sailed over several cubicles before colliding with the top of a separator and sprawling out on the floor. Spiderman breathed heavily, seething if that. He rubbed his jaw and began his approach on the masked menace again, ready for action.
Hobgoblin's body began to stir, and he sat up quickly, exposing his glove the he had slipped onto his hand. He quickly tapped a few buttons and began his laughter again
"What the hell are you laughing at, I just wiped the floor with you." Spiderman shouted.
From beneath them, the floor exploded, and the goblin's glider emerged yet again. Large pieces of wood were reduced to splinters; carpets were split in two from the blades on the wings. Several computers hit the floor and began to spark and hiss, and the glider emerged, its wingspan filling the entire room, this time, the wings had been adjusted to at least fifteen feet. It was enormous, and the hobgoblin hopped in the middle of the glider.
"I told you Spiderman!" He screamed.
The shadow of the glider loomed over the web slinger, his eyes grew wide with fear, and the hobgoblin hooted wildly.
"Your crazy. Your absolutely crazy." Spiderman mumbled, trying to back away.
In an instant, the slots of the glider slid up and four missiles were loaded into place. There was nothing he could do. This was the end. Seconds later, the missiles launched, hitting what was left of the floor with brutal impact. The force devastated the rest of the floor and the ceiling, the tiles and panel caving in. Spiderman was lost in a sea of wood and brick. The heavy matter rained on him until everything became black, and all of the sound was drown out by his own cries.
Things look tense for our favorite webs linger. Hobgoblin has revealed himself to be Peter's boss Paul Heaton and has attacked him in a violent rage. Will Spiderman survive this destruction to meet Mary Jane? More importantly did the Hobgoblin survive? Find out this and more in the next chapter (issue) of Spiderman: Lucky Shot! Thanks, please review, --Peach man
--Peach man
Spiderman Issue #9 – Realities
Not much sleep on this particular night. Peter sat on his bedroom windowsill, gazing out into the city and breathing deeply. There was too much on his mind to sleep, too much to eat, too much to think. He took another deep breath before deciding that he needed to get out. In a flash he was in his costume, and swinging through the streets. He landed softly atop of a building, sitting on the edge and watching the ongoing traffic below. Even at three thirty in the morning, traffic was still running.
The same question continuously plagued his mind over and over. How was he going to do this interview when Paul wanted peter there to take the pictures? How on earth could he do this? He let out another deep sigh before letting himself slide off the building edge and fall through the air. At the last second, he spun a web line and swung himself to safety, catching a metallic pole and spinning around. The rush made his adrenaline flow, and a grin spread across his face.
"I guess there's not much I can do." Spiderman said to himself, watching the traffic.
He sat for several minutes pondering what to do. Another topic that still raked through his brain was the disappearance of Curt Conners. Where Hobgoblin had taken curt, Spiderman had no idea. He was at a loss for ideas, he couldn't think of any place for the goblin to take him.
At four thirty, Spiderman was too tired to keep his eyes open. He slowly swung himself back to the apartment, yawning in the cool night breeze. He made it home, and leaped through his window in traditional fashion, and then passed out on his bed, finally too tired to stay awake.
Morning came as quick as peter had closed his eyes. It felt as if he hadn't slept at all. He remembered removing his Spiderman mask, but left the rest of his costume on. Thankfully, that's all he needed today. After a quick shower, he suited up, placing regular clothing over his costume.
It was eleven thirty, and he had an hour and a half to meet Paul. The Spiderman meeting was scheduled for two o'clock, peter was supposed to be there in advance and have Spiderman enter via the front entrance. These were the details Peter was emailed late last night from Paul. Before Peter's midnight stroll he had been online for a few minutes and received an urgent email from Paul.
The time had come, and he was anxious about the meeting. He left his apartment, it was silent and a cold breeze blew through the house, sending shivers up Peter's spine as he left. The subway ride was short and boring, someone smelt of cheese and mold. And of course the person was standing next to peter, breathing and coughing heavily. It seemed like forever before he had made it to the street.
As he strolled down the street, his eyes studied the clouds as they passed, the white clumps taking the shapes of Mary Jane, and pumpkin bombs. Peter quickly shook his head, glancing back at the street in front of him. He turned the corner, and exactly what he didn't want was about to happen. J. Jonah Jameson was walking up the street towards Parker, his hands tucked deeply in the pockets of his huge jacket. His eyes studied the ground, a thick cigar handing out of the side of his mouth. As Peter neared him they made eye contact.
"Kid." Jameson said, giving him the nod. "How's it going?"
"Alright." Peter replied, rather stiffly.
"How's the job hunt going?" He asked.
"Found one." Peter answered.
"Oh really? Fast food joint? Careful, places like that cause major acne, kid your age." Jameson said.
"No, I work for the Manhattan Metro now." Peter retorted, getting tense.
"Whose running that place now?" Jameson asked.
"Paul Heaton." Peter answered.
"That's strange. Never heard of him. I thought someone else was running it, guy by the name of George... eh, things change I guess." Jameson said.
"I got the job right after you let me go." Peter said.
"Ohh, so they do free lance too huh?" Jameson added.
"I'm their official Spiderman photographer." Peter said, smiling smugly.
"I see. I got one of those. Names Brock, he's pretty good." Jameson said.
"He's alright. He doesn't get his story straight though. I've got to run." Peter said, walking past Jameson
Jameson called out to peter, but the words were lost to him. They sounded like "take care" but it was probably a mistake. Peter pushed through the doors of the Manhattan Metro, and climbed the stairs, heading to the main offices. As he walked through the door, he was stunned to find every cubicle empty. No keyboards clicking, no printers running absolute silence.
He slowly walked towards the end of the room, passing each cubicle cautiously and suspiciously. Peter's camera dangled back and forth as he stepped, the lens reflecting light as he turned his body. He neared the end of the cubicle, placing his hand on the doorknob of Paul's door. His spider sense didn't go off. Peter opened the door.
Paul was running back and forth, adjusting the pictures on the wall and dusting off tabletops and corners. He had made quite an addition to "The Wall of Spiderman" since peter had last been in the office. Every picture that had been printed of Spiderman in the last few weeks was posted, more than once on this wall. Several of the pictures contained images of the Hobgoblin as well. Actually quite a few images on this wall were of the hobgoblin, some that Peter had never seen before in any magazines.
"How ya doin' Pete? Thanks so much for coming today." Paul said.
"No problem. Listen I can't stay long, I'm just going to set up my camera and it's going to take pictures as soon as I set it." Peter replied.
"How will we know when the pictures being set?" Paul asked.
"I'll set it up before I leave, all you have to do is press a small button when Spiderman gets here, and it will be all set." Peter said.
"Here," Paul called to him.
He handed peter a wad of one hundred dollar bills, and Peter took them smiling widely. All eight hundred dollars were there, with a couple of extra twenties as well. He stuffed the wad into his pocket and shook Paul's hand before exiting.
Peter ran down the hallway, running past the cubicles and out the front door. He stopped in the main hallway and removed his over clothing, revealing the Spiderman costume. He quickly slipped his gloves on, and removed his shoes. He webbed the bundle of clothing up and threw it up towards the ceiling, webbing it firmly in place. With that, he slid his mask on, exiting the Manhattan Metro.
With a quick amount of work, peter was outside of Paul's office window and he swung in rather quickly, landing on the floor in a crouched position. Paul let out a loud laughter, he sounded like a giddy school child. Spiderman stood, folding his arms and studying Paul.
"So I hear you wanted to see me?" Spiderman asked.
"Yes! Thank you so much for coming! It truly is an honor!" Paul yelled.
The two shook hands and Paul offered Spiderman a chair in front of his desk. Spiderman reluctantly took it, sitting down rather uncomfortably in the chair. Paul stood, walking over to the camera that was mounted on the wall facing the desk. He made sure the cap was off before pressing the button. Quickly he hurried back to his desk and sat down, pulling out his pad of paper.
"So...Where should I begin...Oh, How did you get your powers?" Paul asked.
"Well it's a long story, lets just say some scientists didn't watch their specimen." Spiderman replied rubbing his forearm.
"Okay, How did you decide to fight crime and not use these powers to make yourself some money?" Paul asked again.
"Someone very dear to me died, which made me want to bring the scum to justice. He taught me very important lessons which I hold dear today." Spiderman answered.
"Lets jump ahead a little bit," Paul began. "What do you think of the Hobgoblin?"
Spiderman's breath became sharp, he inhaled deeply and really wasn't ready for this one. Paul seemed different somehow; he wasn't the same charismatic man he had first met. Something seemed a bit different about him and he didn't know what it was. There was a new glare in his eye, one he'd never seen in anyone's before.
"Well?" he asked again, the stare deepening.
"I think he's a green goblin knockoff. He has no skills on a glider, and his laugh is obnoxious." Spiderman said with a chuckle.
Now he understood where he had seen the glare before. Paul seemed somewhat ticked at his last comment, and had the same sickening glare. His glare was the same as Norman Osborn's. Another sharp breath, and Spiderman tried to convince himself to go on with the interview.
"I think that you are passing judgment to this goblin." Paul began again. "I mean he's at least clever about his work.
"I don't think that sitting on a building top reading off a list of demands is clever." Spiderman retorted.
"Yes but he's more menacing than the green goblin, he doesn't care about killing the innocents!" Paul screamed.
"Neither did green goblin. And at least Green Goblin could fight, this orange caped dope cant fight for his life." Spiderman joked.
To keep himself calm, Spiderman had been counting camera clicks. Paul was furious, a vein in his forehead stuck out and his face was flushed. Spiderman couldn't figure out why Paul was so mad, he was only being his usual sarcastic self. 'Maybe he was disappointed, and expected more out of me?' Spiderman wondered. Nevertheless the interview continued.
"You know, I've followed your career since you first started spinning webs Spiderman, from the first robber you apprehended up until your fight with Hobgoblin just yesterday." Paul said, a bit more lightly hearted than earlier.
"Oh really? Well thanks, a lot of people think I'm a bad person," Spiderman said, trying to change the subject.
"Oh and why is that?" He asked.
"Can't say, I save people continuously and still people think I'm evil. Or that I have eight arms..." Spiderman trailed off.
"Hm... how foolish of them. I admire you a lot Spiderman, so much in fact I bought you a small gift." He said, opening his desk drawer.
He tensed, 'what was Paul up to?' Spiderman swallowed hard, watching Paul's movements and what he placed on the desk It was a small box, dressed in orange with a green bow tied around the top.
"Go on, open it."
He lifted the top to find what he expected. It was a small orange orb in the shape of a pumpkin, its leering face shining and lighting with intensity. Spiderman's eyes widened and he threw the box away from him, towards the door and it exploded on impact. Pieces of wood and plaster fell to the floor, a thick cloud of smoke drifting through the room. Spiderman back flipped right out of the chair and landed crouched on the floor, awaiting any more movement.
From the smoke rose a figure, with a light yellow mask on, the face twisted in an unpleasant expression. A pair of red eyes fixated on Spiderman, and the devilish laughter filled the office. It was Paul's body, correction it was Paul, wearing the Hobgoblin mask. From the desk, Paul pulled the drawers open and threw razor bats, eight of them to be exact. Spiderman flipped, attempting to dodge them and was cut several times, causing him to scream and fall to the ground.
"That's it Spiderman, scream! It's not a party unless everyone's yelling!" Paul/Hobgoblin yelled.
He had now pulled the orange cloak out of his desk and draped it over his body, pulling the hood up and over his head. He cackled loudly, and pulled out two more bombs.
"I'd really hate to defeat you like this. I mean, c'mon, I thought I sucked at fighting!" Hobgoblin yelled.
He began to walk toward Spiderman again and landed a firm kick in his side. Spiderman gasped, holding his side and rolling away from Paul, avoiding the second sickening kick. The cackle filled the air once again, so deep that it shook Spiderman to his bones. He turned his head just in time to see both bombs sailing through the air.
They danced, midair merrily, their smiles wide and ludicrous. Time seemed to stop, and Spiderman was on his feet, dashing away from the two bombs in what took forever. Both hit the ground and exploded. The wooden floor gave way, the boards cracking and falling in with intensity. He was in the air, spinning a thin stream of webbing and swinging his way out of the office.
Dust filled the air, and so did more laughter. Spiderman sat in the corner of the ceiling, glancing down at the office door, waiting for the hobgoblin to emerge yet again. He breathed heavily and began to shake.
"Come on out!" He yelled to the office door.
The Hobgoblins hideous face slid out from behind the door, a demonic grin spread from ear to ear.
"Sure thing Webs."
Hobgoblin dashed out of the office, digging into the small pouch of his cloak. How he had survived the floor caving in Spiderman didn't know. Hobgoblin was throwing pumpkin bombs like it was Halloween all over again, and the explosions were violent, knocking several large pieces of plaster down from the ceiling. When he finally tired, Spiderman was on the offensive, and leaped, hitting the goblin with a fierce kick.
"Take that Gobby!" He screamed.
The hobgoblin flew backward, slamming into an office cubicle, and flipping over the side. Spiderman could hear the crash of a monitor and several more unidentified noises. Then there was silence. Slowly, he walked toward the cubicle, his fists out and ready to fight. When he finally approached the cubicle, his head glanced over the wall, scanning the floor. Hobgoblin wasn't there.
"Trick or treat?"
From behind him, hobgoblin landed a vicious punch, knocking Spiderman off balance, and then followed it with a forearm smash to the back of the head. He tripped, falling into the cubicle and slamming his face off the side of the separator. Blood left his nose, dousing the interior of his mask and causing him to cough violently.
"What's wrong? I thought I wasn't a good fighter?" the goblin teased.
Spiderman lifted the bottom of his mask, letting the blood run freely onto the floor and spat, trying to relieve his mouth of the liquid. He pulled the mask back down after a few short moments and was ready to go again.
"Is your break over? Good, its time to finish this." Hobgoblin screamed.
Spiderman reached forward, grabbing Hobgoblin by the throat and slammed him into the cubicle separator. He leaned in forward, talking in complete sincerity.
"You talk WAY too much." He snarled.
With that, he landed a solid punch to the goblins temple, and followed it with a few more, each punch a direct hit to the villain's head. Hobgoblin fell backwards onto the floor, holding his face in agony.
"It's not over yet, get up."
He picked the goblin up over his head, and threw him across the room; he sailed over several cubicles before colliding with the top of a separator and sprawling out on the floor. Spiderman breathed heavily, seething if that. He rubbed his jaw and began his approach on the masked menace again, ready for action.
Hobgoblin's body began to stir, and he sat up quickly, exposing his glove the he had slipped onto his hand. He quickly tapped a few buttons and began his laughter again
"What the hell are you laughing at, I just wiped the floor with you." Spiderman shouted.
From beneath them, the floor exploded, and the goblin's glider emerged yet again. Large pieces of wood were reduced to splinters; carpets were split in two from the blades on the wings. Several computers hit the floor and began to spark and hiss, and the glider emerged, its wingspan filling the entire room, this time, the wings had been adjusted to at least fifteen feet. It was enormous, and the hobgoblin hopped in the middle of the glider.
"I told you Spiderman!" He screamed.
The shadow of the glider loomed over the web slinger, his eyes grew wide with fear, and the hobgoblin hooted wildly.
"Your crazy. Your absolutely crazy." Spiderman mumbled, trying to back away.
In an instant, the slots of the glider slid up and four missiles were loaded into place. There was nothing he could do. This was the end. Seconds later, the missiles launched, hitting what was left of the floor with brutal impact. The force devastated the rest of the floor and the ceiling, the tiles and panel caving in. Spiderman was lost in a sea of wood and brick. The heavy matter rained on him until everything became black, and all of the sound was drown out by his own cries.
Things look tense for our favorite webs linger. Hobgoblin has revealed himself to be Peter's boss Paul Heaton and has attacked him in a violent rage. Will Spiderman survive this destruction to meet Mary Jane? More importantly did the Hobgoblin survive? Find out this and more in the next chapter (issue) of Spiderman: Lucky Shot! Thanks, please review, --Peach man