SPIDER-MAN
Business Part IV
Escape
He couldn't see them, he could feel them; somehow he knew where they were coming from. Peter contorted his body inhumanly as hundreds of small darts flew past him. They weren't trying to kill him; they were trying to capture him. In a brief moment between a roll and ducking under a passing dart, Peter spun hitting out with the lamppost that was attached to his hand. A scream of agony quickly followed by a thud was heard as one of the attackers was knocked into another disguised wall behind the Watson's house across the street. As he followed through the strike, he felt the lamp scrape against a ceiling above him. A small black box fell and smashed on the ground next to him and the ceiling was shown for it's real self. A large dark metallic square that was once disguised by the projector that lay at Peter's feet as a clear blue Forest Hills sky.
What is this place? Peter asks himself while dodging another two darts. He could feel the projectors above him creating the fake world and disguising his enemies, he could feel a circular room and three people in it directly above him overseeing all and he could feel the men congregating around him, gathering silently into a circle and edging slowly forward. They had now stopped shooting, which had at first confused Peter, but now he had felt them tightening around them he understood. He continued to smash away at the projectors above him leaving small black boxes in a sporadic pattern in the middle of the artificial road.
The men had now stopped moving. They were loading their guns, prepping the darts and taking aim. Peter's instincts took hold and he bent his knees slightly waiting for them to pull the triggers. He dropped the lamppost and fretted falsely to lure in his attackers. He couldn't hear them and he couldn't smell them and had to rely on his instinct and his new sense to know when. They fired. And he jumped forward, diving over one of the men towards the unconscious black mound at the bottom of the wall. With one more bound he had reached the wall itself and had positioned himself floating in what seemed like mid air. He was attached to the wall.
As his instinct took full control he continued to climb, looking for the answers to the millions of questions that were running though his head. As he reached the top he leapt to the middle of the room smashing through the one-way mirror window into the control room. Inside this tiny room wasn't disguised and there were two men in white lab coats and one dressed in a long green overall. The two white-attired men dived towards him hoping to push him out of the window, but Peter's instinct knew this even before they did and he quickly grabbed them each by the hair knocking their heads together leaving them both crumpled on the floor.
"Very impressive Parker" came the voice from the green clothed man. He had jet-black hair and a look of authority. In his expression was also a hint of pride, as though he had achieved something.
"Where am I? Who are you? What is this place?" Peter mumbled still shocked from the attack that had just occurred. Trying to get the answers he so desperately needed he began to move closer to the man.
"You don't need to know any of that. You need only know that you're a success. You've just made many a man very proud of his work" replied the black haired man. Peter could feel him preparing a needle behind his back and was expecting him to attack. The man lunged at him but Peter grabbed his arm and twisted it around behind his back making him drop the needle. He released his grip and the man fell back across the room. He nudged a button slyly on the control board and his skin seemed to suddenly go paler. He dived at Peter again this time trying to knock him off balance so he could administer the needle. Peter went to grab him by the neck but felt him drift through his hand. A familiar tingling in his head told him of an incoming punch from behind. His instincts took over again as he almost unconsciously back flipped over the man dodging the blow. He grabbed him by the waist and threw him out of the control room where he landed silently.
Peter collapsed to the floor; his knees had given way to the confusion of his mind and the burden of his heart. He began to sob, surrounded by 6 shiny metallic walls in a regular hexagon shape, embellished with computer desks on each bar one, which contained a door. As he regained control of his feelings he began to study his surroundings. The computer systems were very basic from what he could tell and with just a couple of buttons pressed he had turned off the projectors that were located around the large vacant room. As he looked out through the now empty window he saw a large dull warehouse with four wooden houses sturdily built, two on each side of the road. In the middle of the warehouse were over 30 unconscious men in black full-body suits and gas masks, three of them were slumped against the walls of the building bleeding from their mouths and noses, the rest were strewn across the middle of the room each with a small dart protruding from their body. They had shot each other as he had made his way to the control room. Next to him laid two me in white lab coats but he could see no sign of the man in the green suit.
After more pressing of buttons a hissing noise was halted and gas was stopped from venting into the room. After a quick search of the hard-drive Peter found the notes of Quentin Beck describing the aim of this project and another describing the gas used in the warehouse.
From the notes of Quentin Beck
Finally my perfect world is to be put to the test. He has given the order that one of his test subjects is to be monitored here at warehouse 7. We have surveyed the subjects' house and made an exact replica from hard wood in the warehouse as well as 3 other houses in the local vicinity. The projectors have been set up so the image will cover all features of the warehouse and the ventilation system has been tested. I was almost fooled by my own contraption. There are several faulty projectors, but he needn't know about that. They randomly ripple and create quite a nauseating effect for whoever is watching them. The guards are on standby and my two assistants have been extremely helpful. The subject has just arrived.
Latest Illusion Gas Test Results
Entry by Quentin Beck
The latest test has had remarkable results. Not only does the gas dull all the sense except sight but when paired with familiar visuals it has very interesting extra effects. In an early test this morning with the projectors and gas the subject complained of a failure in the drug. He could still smell. But someone quickly pointed out that he couldn't smell the warehouse in which he was standing in but the Garlic hanging in the corner of his illusion kitchen. With the other sense dulled the brain seems to rely very heavily on sight. Even to the extent that if the subject sees something familiar the brain artificially creates the smell, the noise, the taste and even the texture of the items. The illusion world project is now ready for use.
After reading through several of the other files he could find nothing about who had ordered Beck to put him in the illusion world or who supplied Beck with the gas so he strolled through the door and down a set of spiralling metal stairs. He stumbled outside into the real world. The sunlight beamed down upon him and he felt the sea breeze brush past him. After basking in the sunlight for what seemed like hours, Peter began to stroll down the familiar roads that would eventually take him home, his "real" home.
"Evening Ben"
"Hey Matt, What can I do for ya'?" replied Ben Urich, from behind his desk at the Daily Bugle. "I hope it's something important because I have got a lot of stories to check up on"
"It's important. Teenager went missing last week outside his house in Queens. His Aunt and Uncle are customers of mine. I found a metal spider on the ground a couple of meters away from where he fell. It contained a tranquilizer serum and was marked with this logo." With this Matt Murdock passed a blown up version of the logo over to Urich.
"FISK?" Urich mumbled to himself trying to remember where he knew that name from.
Having not seen the picture before, Matt's head began to buzz. Questions flew around inside his head. What would Wilson Fisk want with Peter Parker? Where did Fisk get the robot spider?
"Oh, Wilson Fisk. The mob boss, right? You guys have some sort of history don't ya, how come you didn't recognise his logo?" Urich asked completely confused.
With a quick gesture to his eyes, Matt Murdock turned, smoothly extending his cane and tapping both sides of the arched doorframe before he left.
"Oh yeah, blind guy" Urich mumbled before jumping out of his seat as J. Jonah Jameson stormed into his office.
"Peter! Peter Parker!" a voice shouted from the doorway of a small house.
"Doc Connors?" Peter replied, recognising the voice of his favourite teacher. He'd known Curt Connors for many years and as well as being in his science classes he had often stayed behind after school to help him with all sorts of other projects including Dr Connors pet project, a regeneration serum.
"Peter, thank god you alive. Where've you been?" Curt Connors asked hastily, shocked, holding Peter's shoulder with his arm, looking him straight in the eye.
"I… don't remember. If it's alright with you sir, I'd just like to get back to my Aunt and Uncle.
With this, Peter watched a grown man break down and cry. He fell to his knees and began to sob, holding his face in his hands. "Why did it have to be like this?" he said between sobs.
Kneeling down next to him Peter tried to work out what he meant. In his hand he was holding a newspaper, which he passed to Peter. "Read page 8" he added, looking up, tears pouring down his face.
Peter quickly skimmed through the paper desperate to find out what had caused DR Connors to become like this. Finding the page in the tear stained copy of the Daily Bugle, Peter instantly dropped the newspaper to the floor and sprinted towards his house leaving Doctor Connors sobbing on the floor staring at a picture of an elderly couple followed by the tragic story of their death
Extract from a special evening edition of the Daily Bugle
LOCAL ELDERLY COUPLE MURDERED
Ben and May Parker were last night murdered while asleep. There was no sign of a break-in proving that the murderer had a key. No fingerprints were left and the cause of death was "by lethal injection".
This most strange case started when the couple reported their teenage nephew, Peter missing. The next morning their next-door neighbour and good friend, the widowed Mrs Watson, found them and called for an ambulance. The paramedics announced them both dead and found a large dose of a potentially lethal chemical in their blood.
Captain Stacy of the police gave a statement today: "This is a tragic day for the Parker family, a family torn apart by death, and now destroyed. Peter Parker is now the last of the Parker's and we urge the public of New York City to come forward if you know anything of the whereabouts of Peter Parker or the killer of his Aunt and Uncle, May and Ben."
Our thoughts go out to the friends of the deceased and to Peter Parker who we all wish for a safe return.
"Stromm? Where the hell are you?" Quentin Beck shouted over the never-ending landscape of desks.
"I'm here Beck. What do you need?" came Stromms' quick reply from near a deep pit.
"I just came to tell you, your little lab rat, Parker, just escaped" Beck informed spitefully. "You never told me he would be able to climb the walls! He clambered his way up into our control room after taking out all the security men. He then escaped my attempt to sedate him. I had to fake my death again to get the news to you"
"He can climb the walls? Miraculous, must tell Stillwell." Stromm mumbled, shuffling his way over to his desk. "Here take this" he said passing a cheque to Beck. "We'll call if we need you again"
"Thanks" Beck added before placing the cheque in his top left pocket and heading for the exit.
Darting around the final corner, Peter came to a complete stop, staring at what was once his house. Blue and white tape was wrapped around the entire residence, two police cars were parked in the front and the four police were standing in the front garden. One of them stood out in particular, he was wearing a dark brown over coat and was smoking a cigarette casually.
Peter shakily wandered up to the house and stood at the end of the path with the tape blocking his way.
"Are you looking for something son?" the man in the brown coat asked, while looking over Peter, noticing his extremely pale complexion, his mucky clothes and the speed at which his legs were wobbling.
"I live here" Peter replied, letting his legs give up as he collapsed to the floor.
"You what?" the detective replied before realising who he was. "Peter Parker? I'm Captain Stacy. I guess you already know what happened." Dejectedly he ducked under tape barrier and lifted Peter up, helping him to reach the police car where he sat him on the passenger seat with his legs left to shake outside the car.
"Who did this?" Peter asked the first thing that came into his mind.
"We don't know son. I'm sorry. We'll find out though, we'll get them. Come down to the station with me, get away from here. I'll grab you a coffee, see if we can calm you down."
With that Peter lifted his legs inside the car and shut the door, while Captain Stacy motioned for the other men to wait outside the house and then jumped into the car and began the long drive to the station.
"Urich!" Jameson shouted as he entered the office.
"Yes Jonah, what do you need?" Urich replied, significantly quieter but with a hint of anger.
"How are you doing with those articles?" Jonah pulled out his signature cigar and lit up.
"Well the special on Max Dillon is coming along nicely and those vampire reports are turning out to be very interesting. Could be a great story"
"Not those articles, I mean the important ones" Jonah replied eagerly awaiting a chance to brag.
"Here you go" Ben said while passing a piece of paper to Jonah titled "HEROIC ASTRONAUT RETURNS SAFELY"
"Fantastic Urich. My son" he said pointing at the man in the centre of the photo.
"Yes Jonah, as if I didn't know" Urich replied tiredly. He'd heard this routine before.
"Now get on with those other articles I asked you for!" Jonah ordered before stampeding back out of the office as quickly as he had arrived.
"Hello Peter"
"Hey Mr Murdock" Peter replied from a chair in a small grey room down the corridor from Captain Stacy's office. He took a sip from his coffee before offering one to Matt.
"No thanks Peter. You seem to be coping with this very well Peter. You Aunt told me once that when your mother and father died you didn't cry until you reached home. You need to go home. Empty out all your grief." Matt said while sitting down on the chair across the table from Peter.
"She told you that?" Peter asked, sniffling at the memory of his Aunt.
"She told me all sorts of stories, about you, about your uncle. She also left me in charge of you, if anything should happen to her. I know this isn't something you want to talk about but as a friend Peter, let me help you. I know you gave Captain Stacy a statement before about where you were. I've read it. He doesn't believe you. I do. I've been there before. I know who this Beck character is and luckily for you I know that a man named Wilson Fisk has something to do with this all. When you feel like talking about him, either come to my office, or go over to the Daily Bugle and ask for Ben Urich. He's a good friend of mine; he'll look after you. We'll get who-ever did this to you."
"Thanks for your concern Mr Murdock but there's one question that keeps running through my mind. You said before about going home and grieving. I can't go home anymore. I can't go back there."
"That's okay Peter, I've already found someone who will take you in, until we find somewhere permanent for you. His name is Steven Smith. He's a bit of a scientist and a nice man. You'll like him." With that he passed Peter a piece of paper containing Mr Smith's address and left the room quickly, without warning.
"Thanks Mr… Murdock" Peter replied hoping that he had heard it. He sipped his coffee again, waiting for the return of Captain Stacy.
"Stillwell? Smythe?" Stromm asked into the radio, hoping to alert his colleagues to the crisis at hand.
"Yes Stromm" came the reply from both radios.
"Get down here immediately, both of you. He doesn't know yet, we've still got time." Stromm ordered them.
"Time to do what?" asked Smythe.
"Parker's escaped. We need to prep the slayers"