Agent Silver: Hm...tentacles for a purpose...I'll have to use that theory later in the story...Thanks!
Pappy: Yah, Doc Ock confessing his sins to a priest would be priceless. But these Christians I'm talking about are Prodistants, as am I. But Doc Ock confessing his sins would be pretty neat!
Here's the next chapter! Enjoy and don't forget to review!
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
It was now December fifth; three months from the picnic incident. Doc Ock hadn't been attending church or reading the Bible. In fact, he had gone back to his past life style, living as a felon. The emptiness had come back and he was still broken from Rosie's death. This made him especially angry for he knew he prayed to be freed from that torture, and still wasn't.
Doc Ock was mad at everyone. Everyone but Rosie who he felt was, and always had been, his angel. He was mad at God for not helping him in his time of need. He was mad at Spider-man for not saving his wife when he could have. He was mad at the press for printing a reputation for him in the newspaper. He was mad at the people of New York City for misunderstanding him and screaming whenever he walked by. But most of all, he was mad at himself for creating and becoming something for them to scream about.
The doctor was filled with hate, which he had been taking out in parking towers. Doc Ock had smashed innumerable cars to let loose his rage.
He threw a pickup truck onto another smaller car with his immensely powerful limbs. A woman and three small children were in that car that was crushed he soon found out when he heard high-pitched screams. As soon as the dust settled, he realized what he had done and ran to the stacked cars. With his top tentacles, he threw the truck off and found three dead children and a middle-aged mother. In one of the children's hands lay a small cloth doll.
Doc Ock picked it up and toyed with it staring blankly at it. He had never felt this guilty for slaying innocent people before. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced for a long time considering people he didn't know.
Doc Ock threw the doll down to the floor and hit his head on a concrete post. "Why do I do this?" he asked through his teeth. "Why?!" Doc Ock yelled throwing his top left tentacle at the concrete pole. It began to deteriorate causing the upper deck to rumble. Doc Ock glanced up at it nervously and it began to collapse. "No!" he yelled running for the far-off edge. Doc Ock almost made it to the edge when a large slab of concrete fell. Dr. Octavious gasped and it hit pummeling him to the ground.
He didn't move in the least bit. The only things visible were the tips of his fingers, the grabbers of his tentacles, and one of his shoes.
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Doc Ock woke up. What surprised him was that he woke up; he didn't expect to. And when he did, he was in a hospital. Doc Ock was wearing hospital clothing and had a bandage wrapped around his head. He had an IV in his lower arm, a neck brace, a breating tube up his nose, and was hooked up to a heart monitor. Every time that thing beeped, it sent a striek of pain through his aching head.
Doc Ock was drowsy and light headed because of the chemicals that were being injected into him by the IV tube. With an effort, he turned his head towards the doorway and observed patients walking back and forth. Doc Ock noticed Harry Osborn in a business suit walk by his door off to ask a patient some questions. Doc Ock tried to call him into the room but nothing left his mouth but wheezing because a rib had stabbed into his windpipe during the accident.
Dr. Octavious hurt all the way down from his pounding headache, to his broken leg, but he knew that he had to get out before the authorities realized that he was conscious and came in to check on him.
He wearily grabbed the wires attached to his chest with his bottom right tentacle and detached them. With another tentacle, Doc Ock also yanked out his IV. The heart monitor declared that his heartbeat was streamline and let loose an annoying beep that echoed around the room.
Doc Ock drowsily slid out of bed and walked the best he could (although rather clumsily) on his bottom tentacles towards the doorway. The fluid in the IV container had been so strong that now, without it, he felt his body grow weaker and weaker with each stride. Finally, he couldn't support his own weight anymore and fell to the ground with a loud, metallic thump. (the arms fell too.)
A doctor walking by heard the noise and curiously walked into the room. He saw the unconscious body lying on the floor in front of him. The doctor gathered a handful of nurses to help him get the patient back up onto the bed.
He hooked him back up to the heart monitor and stuck an IV into his arm. The doctor covered him up with the thin hospital sheets and left the room.
Doc Ock slept through a couple days lying there. During that time, the doctors and nurses did an amount of tests on him to study the arms but were careful not to disturb any healing body parts; which proved to be challenging given that most of his body was injured and repairing itself.
One morning he opened his eyes and saw Rosie at his bedside. "Rosie? Rosie." He whispered. Doc Ock slowly reached out with his hand and grabbed his wife's hand. He smiled lovingly at the figure. He felt so relieved to have her back again.
"I'm sorry mister, I'm not Rosie." A masculine voice answered. Doc Ock opened his eyes more as the vision deteriorated. A frail man in a pastor uniform was holding his hand concernedly.
Doc Ock pulled it away startled at the reality view. He scooted away a little trying not to touch the kindly pastor.
"I've come to tell you the good news incase you've never heard it." The pastor said taking out his small, black Bible. "My name's Pastor Marvin incase you want to get to know me better."
"I don't." Doc Ock said struggling with quietness. (his windpipe's still punctured.)
Pastor Marvin heard Otto's remark and pulled a chair up to his bedside. He sat down in it and opened his Bible. "John 3:16 says that God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life. Doesn't that sound appealing?" he asked in a soft, caring tone. The tone he was using reminded Doc Ock of the tone you would use with a small child.
"No, it doesn't." Doc Ock stated coldly.
"Don't you realize what will happen if you don't accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior?" The pastor exclaimed.
The tentacles perked up as Doc Ock became conscious of the man's attitude. "There's no need to become excited." He stated without the least bit of enthusiasm.
"Yes there is!" Pastor Marvin exclaimed. "He is the reason. He is the reason of happiness!"
"Oh really? He is the reason I'm still in pain. He is the reason I'm here right now breathing through a tube. Now, ask yourself: Does this seem like a wonderful haven provided by God? I don't think so." Doc Ock stated getting a hint of his own voice back.
"No, you don't understand. God is a loving and caring God. He never causes us pain or suffering. He wants us to prosper and be happy! That's why He has given us this choice between life and death. Jesus said Himself: choose life! You need to choose Him or else!" Pastor Marvin exclaimed.
Doc Ock grabbed him with one of his tentacles and lifted him into the air. "Or else what? Hm?"
"Or else you'll burn in hell!" He answered. A two-foot blade stuck out of another one and came closer to the pastor. The pastor seemed to have no fear of him. "And you will be tortured beyond your imagination for all eternity!"
This statement made Doc Ock angry. He sent the blade for the pastor's stomach.
"And I don't want that to happen to you." Pastor Marvin finished lovingly. His voice didn't reflect anything leading to buttering-up. He was speaking the truth despite what was about to happen.
He stopped the blade two inches before hitting the man after hearing those words. "You-- you don't?" he asked numbly.
"No, I don't." He replied.
Doc Ock had never heard something like that before told to him. Everyone that he had met had wanted the worst torture for him. No one had ever cared about him; no one had ever been worried for his sake. The pastor's words touched him as he lowered him to the ground.
The arm let go of him and the pastor straightened his coat not the least bit rattled. "What do you say? Do you want to go on this well worth journey with me?" he asked.
Doc Ock wasn't sure of what to answer; half wanted to, half didn't. Also, he had his pride to uphold. "I'll think about it." He replied casually.
"Ok." The pastor said with a warm smile. He grabbed his Bible from the floor and walked out of the hospital room lightly closing the door behind him.
Doc Ock stared puzzled at the door. How dare he bring up Christianity after what it had done to him! How dare that pastor simply walk in and act so kind. How dare he lie about loving him!
The more Doc Ock thought about it, the angrier he became. He was tempted to tear the door from its hinges and throw the next person to walk by it out of the window. Doc Ock breathed in and out a couple times to calm down; his body couldn't take that kind of stress yet. He began to think: What if the pastor was serious? Was he? Could he have really loved him knowing exactly who he was? Didn't he know everything that he had done? Surely, he knew of his horrible reputation.
"The man was probably insane." Doc Ock assured himself trying to kill his hopes of anything higher than a good night sleep.
Yes, he was obviously crazy. No one in their right mind wouldn't be afraid of being speared through the heart by us.
"I guess not." Doc Ock said with a depressed sigh. His tentacles fixed the covers and fluffed his pillow. He was about to go to sleep when a doctor came in accompanied by two men in business suits and a nurse.
He sat up, "What do you want?" he asked defensively.
The doctor and nurse were cheerful, the two men in suits were the opposite. "We just came in to check on how you're healing." The doctor replied pulling down the covers. He began unlatching Doc Ock's semi-removable cast extending down from his knee to his foot.
"Who are they?" Doc Ock asked eying the other two.
"They're from the CIA. They're observing to make sure you haven't been causing us any trouble." The doctor replied opening the cast up. Doc Ock cringed as the doctor touched his skin lightly. "Hm...your bone seems to be replacing its tissues properly." He mused. "Cindy, would you fix that neck brace for me?"
The nurse began to open up Doc Ock's neck brace while the doctor latched up his leg. The doctor walked over to his assistant peering over her shoulder. He took his index finger and thumb and lightly lifted the edge of the bandage off of his head. He cringed at the sight of the wound. "That head injury's going to keep you here a while. Cindy, I'll take it over from here. Could you grab my paperwork, please?" he asked inspecting Doc Ock's neck.
"Sure." She replied walking to the small entable and grabbing the doctor's clipboard, began walking back to him. "Here you go." She said but tripped on a cord. The clipboard went flying through the air and fell into Doc Ock's damaged throat.
Doc Ock gasped in pain and, without thinking, stuck a blade through the young nurse. He threw her at the doctor and the two other men breaking open a glass capsule containing a dangerous chemical in it. The broken glass fell on the three unconscious men and one dead woman. It cut them and the ones still living died.
Doc Ock threw the clipboard to the ground angrily and looked up at the pile of victims in front of him. His eyes widened as he came back to reality. He realized that his tentacle-enhanced temper had gotten the best of him again.
Doc Ock got out of bed as quickly as he could and limped to the people. He began checking each one individually for a sign of life. He got through the three men with no luck and went on to the girl. Doc Ock paused gazing at the giant hole through her stomach. He felt along the edge of it thoughtfully and looked up at the blade, still bloody from the murder.
Doc Ock was tired of this routine; it had happened countless times. He glanced at the window, his means of escape. Doc Ock ripped out his IV again, the wires attached to his chest, and the tube that he was breathing through. He removed the bandage from his head thinking in his mind that it was healed enough. Doc Ock also removed his neck brace and threw it to the floor. He did consider taking off the brace from his leg, but felt that he'd fair better with it than without it.
Dr. Octavious got up on his bottom tentacles and climbed out the window. He climbed up the wall and over the roof. He wasn't physically crying, but his heart was ripped to shreds. Doc Ock still failed to find what made him feel so guilty when he killed innocent people. He used to have this feeling, but had lost it for he had done it so many times. Why did he feel so guilty? What, in his life, had changed so dramatically that it caused him to have an opposite reaction to death?
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Looks like Otto's finally growing a concious, or a bigger one at least. Hope you liked it. I'll try to get the next one up sooner than this one. I've been dry in my writing over the weekend. I couldn't find anything to write! Anyway, don't forget to review!