Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any of its characters. 'Nuff said.
The rain came. First, a slight drizzle. The mysterious man ceased this warning and hid underneath a balcony. Sure enough, it down poured seconds later. He sighed. Maybe this was telling him to go home and put the tights away, but he didn't listen. He lived being out at night. When no one could see him. And it was only he and the lights and the sounds and the bad guys.
Its obvious to who this is, isn't it? I mean, there are a lot of super heroes out there, sure. But let me give you a clue as to which one this man is. Does the term friendly neighborhood super hero mean anything to you? No, I suppose not. It doesn't mean anything to anyone at all anymore. Not since he had searched for his sanity, and tried to make the people of this city see him for what he really was. But, even he had forgotten what that something had been.
It all started with Doctor Octavious. Is it wrong to describe him as a monster? No, not at all. He had ambushed Spider-Man when he weak and in pain. He brought Spider-Man's most dangerous foes all against him at once. Spider-Man almost died that night. But his sprit had remained. And that was what mattered in the end. And though he had had help from the Fantastic Four, it was he who ended the madness. But for how long?
Spider-Man had just ended that battle. Venom. Doc Ock. Green Goblin. These images flashed before his eyes. He had left Mary Jane at home to clear his head. Some good that did him. All he thought about was the Green Goblin. Though that monster died a few hours ago, Spider-Man knew he was alive. And he was watching him. And he was breaking him down. Spider-Man hadn't felt this low in a while. Well, that might be a lie. But he stopped keeping track a few months ago.
He stood up and peered over the surrounding buildings. He had once thought his fate was to help others and to become a hero, and to use his great power responsibly. But, his destiny wasn't clear anymore. All the darkness he'd faced had consumed him. He felt like his entire body was numb, and that his feet were super-glued to the rooftop he'd been sulking on. Spider-Man laughed at himself. That's what he did lately. Felt sorry for himself and thought about how miserable his life was. That was no way for a super hero to act. Well, he questioned if he even was a super hero anymore. People didn't see him as one.
Maybe he'd crawl into bed and watch re-runs of Seinfeld while eating a gallon of ice cream. Nah, if he did, he wouldn't fit into his costume anymore. Instead, he decided to visit Johnny Storm. He didn't know why he even would go talk to that flame brain, but sitting alone on a rooftop with rain pounding on you like a drum wasn't much better.
As he swung off into the night, his spine chilled. He got goose bumps all over. He heard that laugh. That evil laugh. "Goblin." He breathed. "GOBLIN!" Spider-Man hurried over to the site he saw the silhouette of the Green Goblin. That evil monster. But no one was there. It was deserted. Spider-Man hit himself in the head. "Oy vey." He moaned. At first, he was searching for his sanity. Now he was losing it.
Spider-Man coughed. The goose bumps weren't fading away. He was getting sick. Wonderful. Just what he needed. Maybe now he'd get the chicken pox or something to top it all off. He wished he would get them. He needed a break from all this. And what better way to do it than to lie in bed watching re-runs of Seinfeld, eating a large container of ice-cream with little red dots that itch so bed that they could drive you insane, if you weren't insane already.
Spider-Man crawled through the window of his apartment, blowing of the Fantastic Four. He wanted to sit side-by-side with the woman he loved, drinking hot cocoa and watching re-runs of Seinfeld. "Lucy, I'm home!" He said as he threw the mask off. There was no answer. "Lucy?" He said, searching the house. Once he went into the bedroom, he spotted an envelope on the pillow. He sliced it open and read the message inside. He dropped the paper. His jaw opened so wide a plane could land in it. He had been right. The message said one word, written in green. "Gotcha."