Rated M for coarse language, emotional/physical abuse, and graphic content

Author's notes: Mature fanfics are a hit or miss with me. Just when I think I've found an interesting story, it takes a sharp turn into smut territory. Or it includes disturbing content played for drama and slash. That's a major turn off for me. I don't think I can write anything else until I get this M out of my system. Enjoy!

Summary: [Alternate Universe] The Goblin King is set to rise. A cult has infected New York City. Only Spider-man can save the city from destruction. And he'll risk his life to rescue his best friend from his greatest enemy.

Disclaimer: RubinaLadybug does not own Ultimate Spider-man or any of its characters. Ultimate Spider-man characters and plot belong to Stan Lee (R.I.P.), Steve Ditko (R.I.P.), Marvel, and Disney.

Chapter 1: Property of The Goblin

Harry: "You're the son [Norman] wishes he had. And I hate you for it, sometimes. But I can't even blame him, really… 'Cause I lie awake at night wishing I had a brother like you… so I won't be alone."

Peter: "Okay, then."

Harry: "Okay what?"

Peter: "We're brothers."

[The Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #599, 2009]

A costumed hero was swinging himself between the lengthy buildings in New York City. Such towering structures glowed with multiple floors and even more rooms illuminated with their own light source. Those lights were necessary. A full moon was available, but it was blocked by sailing clouds. Such darkness didn't stop the mask-wearing young man from fulfilling his responsibilities. His white webbing flew through the air without pause.

((Hey, there, fellow Spider-man fans! What a week it's been for an expert crime-fighter like me. Unfortunately, all's not well. First, some bad news. My best friend Harry Osborn's been missing! No, I don't think he and his dad went on vacation. For one, Norman Osborn is The Goblin! OK, maybe I shoulda started with that. Norman Osborn, head of Oscorp and father of my best friend, has become a hideous green monster and master criminal known as The Goblin. To think you know a guy.))

He continued his course. Less and less people were out. It was late, so only those working the third shift occupied business buildings and the road. Yellow taxis and city buses roamed the less crowded gravel below the pivoting teen. He would run across the rooftops and launch himself forward.

((Secondly, when I stopped by Oscorp, the penthouse where Harry lives in was a total mess. Completely trashed—overturned furniture, broken windows, everything outta place and splattered on the floor like abstract art. Unless Oscorp has created some sort of tornado-in-a-can, or Harry threw another wild teen party, this has crime written all over it. That's an autograph I don't need added to my collection.))

He cast his webs. Skyscrapers were coming to an end. The automobiles lessened. The smell of vehicle emissions was replaced by spraying salt from the sea.

((Thirdly, some weird cult has moseyed in on the streets of New York. Word is, these people are calling it The Goblin Cult. Now, I'm used to people embracing the strangest ideas. Can you believe some actually prefer deep dish to thin slice when it comes to pizza? Anyway, when you put The Goblin into the mix, that's when the real trouble starts brewing.))

White slits focused on what was ahead. He was totting his path to a specific location. He reached the last tall building before the ocean. He landed on the roof. He was quiet for a moment before recalling his reason for traveling.

((So that's three things to take care of: My best friend missing, Norman Osborn becoming The Goblin, and the presence of this Goblin Cult. What could possibly top all that? Finding a date to a dance. At least, that would be a problem if S.H.I.E.L.D. ever hosted one.))

He gazed at a warehouse once belonging to Oscorp. Two smokestacks were on one side. The paint had faded from intense sunlight and lack of care. The wide windows were covered in filth. Debris of scattered tires and pallets covered the spaciously cracked floor. Ladders and fire escapes were crumbled. It seemed like any warehouse other chemical-based companies would own. Save for newly added green graffiti and a tower structure built within.

"Ugly, isn't it? That's The Goblin Tower. It's where all the clichéd villain happenings go on courtesy of our pal The Goblin. Pretty fancy hideout. Makes me wonder if their fund raisers include selling cookies and festive wrapping paper. Since Norman is The Goblin, I have a feeling that's where Harry is. Norman's nowhere near Father of the Year, but he won't leave his son behind."

Guilt dominated him. Since he had placed on his costume, Spider-man tried to fight for what was right. And whenever he was wrong, his failure clung to him. He took them personally. He sighed.

"In my late hours tracking down The Goblin, I hadn't had much time to spend with my buddy. I'd tutor Harry in subjects he was struggling in. Science is Harry's ticket to running his family's empire—a dream he wants to fulfill no matter how gruesome it is. We'd also play videogames and watch movies and eat junk food. We chatted about trivial topics. We conversed about personal manners. We teased each other while sipping lemonade or chomping down on burgers. I truly miss those carefree afternoons."

He squeezed a fist. "If I want them back, I gotta take action. I need a plan. But I can't go crashing in a place like this. Even as Spider-man, I wouldn't stand a chance throwing sporadic fists and kicks. The Goblin caused enough problems taking down that S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrior."

Looking up to the immense sky, he saw the moon. It was an interesting object. Despite getting hit by asteroids and gaining large craters, it continued to reflect light in darkness. "Besides, I gotta speak with someone. Make sure everyone stays safe in this matter."

He would return. Shooting a web, he took off in the opposite direction for the time being.


Harry groaned. His head was pounding, like he had been whacked by a sledge hammer. His body ached and twitched. It wasn't everyday he was electrocuted. He was only in his penthouse atop of Oscorp when he was attacked unexpectedly. The culprit was unknown. He only recalled hearing a window breaking. Something green assaulted him. Everything then turned black.

"Aw, man," another young masculine voice griped. "I was about to take a piss."

The auburn teen lifted himself up from the cold floor. He took in his surroundings. He could see he was within a cell. A set of bars was opposite of him. The entire structure resembled stone.

"About time you woke up," the same voice scolded.

The young Osborn examined whom was with him. A pair of dazed sapphire eyes met vexed walnut. Another teen boy was opposite of him. His adolescence physique matched a baseball player. His short black hair poked underneath his baseball cap. With the exception of a soul patch, he was cleanly shaved. He wore a black shirt and a blue jacket. All physical features clicked in his mind.

"Vin?" Harry called. "Vin Gonzalez? From Biology?"

"That's me," the boy confirmed. He was a student at Midtown High. He was on the school's baseball team.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"What does it look like?" Vin asked back, sounding annoyed. Though the two shared some social circles around school grounds, they themselves never were in concord. He rolled up his powder blue sleeve. On his forearm was a tattoo. The image was a geometric green goblin-like monster wearing a long purple cap.

Harry's eyes widened. A chill struck his spine. He recognized the following. Whispers had filled the school hallways and had blown up social media feeds. He didn't need an exlanation. He knew it was nothing but evil.

"How could you join this?!" he yelled. "You, me, and Peter were lab partners! You told us that you wanted to be a cop after high school! Don't you think this could affect your future?!"

Vin shrugged it off. "Plans change."

"What about your sister Michele? She was studying to be a lawyer. How can anyone hire her when she has a brother in a cult?!"

"Don't be naive! That won't be a problem. Membership can open doors. There are followers everywhere. The Goblin Cult doesn't discriminate."

Harry froze. He had heard that name before. The Goblin Cult. Citizens accepted tattoos with that hideous design. They praised all works done by The Goblin. They idolized him. They wanted to emulate him. They wanted to serve him. His blood began to boil. The story was different for him. The Goblin was Norman Osborn, his father. He didn't want anything more to do with a man whom abandoned him.

"Lemme out!" he demanded. He rattled the bars.

Vin understood the other boy gave no threat. He was aware of his average human strength. "Fat chance. I got orders. You're staying in there till you're summoned."

The other boy ceased making noise. "Summoned? By who?"

"The president of the United States. Who do you think?"

Harry felt his heart race. He didn't know what he father required from him. His anger began to stir. "Well, I want nothing to do with The Goblin! Or any of his lackies! Now lemme out!"

He shook the bars even harder. Vin placed his hands over his ears to display his exasperation.

"Why, if it isn't Harry Osborn," a voice interrupted. "You sure have changed."

The auburn boy stopped. He recognized that perky, feminine tone. Turning to one side, he eyed a teen girl. Her bleached blond hair curled and cascaded past her shoulders. She smiled. Her perfectly polished teeth were eye-catching against her orange-red lipstick and olive complexion.

"Lily?" Harry gasped. He couldn't believe his ex-girlfriend was standing in front of him.

She was the daughter of Bill Hollister, New York City's district attorney with plans to run for mayor. The young Hollister and Osborn were socialites. They were accustomed to living life in the limelight. They attended the swankiest of parties and dodged the leeching paparazzi. They had also dated for a brief time. She confidently approached him. Her green eyes analyzed him.

"Is this sweater new?" Her perfectly manicured fingers rubbed against the cashmere material. "I like it! It fits you so much better than your drab, old gray one did."

Harry grew confused. He didn't understand why his ex-girlfriend was acting so interested in him. Their break up was far from pleasant. Searching for an answer, he gazed into her eyes. He could've sworn they were a shade of chocolate brown. Something was off about her.

Vin, on the other hand, had enough. "I'm outta here. You watch over him."

"With pleasure," Lily happily replied.

Footsteps walked away. Only dim lighting was available. The auburn could barely see what was on the other end. He had to wait for his eyes to adjust. A heavy door slammed.

Once the two were alone, Harry realized all the inquiries his mind formed. There was a depraved denomination run by his father, a man that he hadn't seen in who knows how long. His ex-girlfriend was pleased to see him despite their unreceptive separation. He was in a location strange to him. Taking it from the top, he asked, "Lily, how do you know Vin?"

As the daughter of a prominent politician, she attended a different school. Perhaps she and Vin had crossed paths sometime ago. Vin did have his eye on someone close to her.

"I make it my business to get acquainted with everyone here. You hafta know who will bring you down and who will help bring you up. Notice your enemies by making friends with everyone."

She unlocked the gate and entered. She sauntered inside. Approaching him, she gave him a more than cordial hug. Her wavy blonde hair tickled against his cheek. He got a whiff of her body splash—vanilla and lavender. He grew confused. He felt himself wanting to hold her, like he used to. He pulled himself away.

"We shouldn't be this friendly with each other… We broke up."

Since he declined her affectionate greeting, Lily had to persuade him. She knew how to get to work. "Pieces get picked up and put back together."

"Never as good as the first."

"Kintsugi."

"What?"

"Kintsugi. The Japanese art of taking something that's broken like pottery and repairing it with gold, silver, or platinum. It's supposed to show off the scars, its one-of-a-kind history. It lets people see its beauty rather than its disgrace."

She may had learned that tidbit from an art museum description or lecture. He, too, picked up notes from attending the same charitable events. He did for his father's company, and she did for her father's political position. They were both social stars. They had that lifestyle in common. They also shared parental issues. One issue involved being compared to their respected best friends.

"Is that why you came to this cell?" Harry interrogated. "Anyone else in this cult know I'm here?"

"I came to see you first," Lily replied. "Before we head on out. I thought we could use a little privacy."

"I already told Vin I'm not seeing Nor—The Goblin. Leaving me alone at Oscorp for so long… He made it clear he wants nothing to do with me. Nothing you say will make me go out there and face those freaks."

The girl was plenty aware of the drama set in front of her ex. She took the boy's refusal as a challenge. She placed her slender fingers around his white collar. Her lips curved upwards as her eyes sparkled. "You're acting so cold to me. I think we can work something out."

Starting from the back, she straightened it out. She came towards the front and lingered around the tips.

Harry felt himself shaking. Despite the disunion, he still carried feelings for her. He permitted such strong emotions to drive him. He snatched her wrists. His serious blue eyes stared directly into hers. "Lily, no one is to be trusted at a place like this. We gotta get outta here."

"Why would I want to that? I'm perfectly happy here." She easily broke free of his firm grip.

"How can you be? This place is full of—"

"Goblins?"

Harry stumbled for a response. Obviously she had to run into them if she was present. Yet she she was calm like a river. Dumbfounded, he nodded. "Yeah."

"I know all about them."

The boy felt something was wrong. An uneasy feeling smashed into his stomach. He watched in horror as the girl he once dated changed. Her skin morphed into a vile lime green. Her ears grew pointy. Her thick lips grew black. From the sides of her forehead sprouted a pair of curled horns. She gazed at him with yellow eyes.

Harry stood, staggered. His blue eyes were widened, and his mouth fell agape. Despite the altered appearance, he could see the girl he was once with. The mutation answered his question. He couldn't believe who she became. Or rather, what she became.

"You're… a Goblin?" he finally gasped.

"Surprised? You shouldn't be. I'm always ahead of trends. You know that."

"How? What did you…" A conclusion clicked in Harry's mind. "So then you were the one who kidnapped me?!"

"I wouldn't do something so horrendous."

"You smashed through my living room's window riding a glider, knocked me out by tazing me, and abducted me from my penthouse. What else would you call that?"

"Think of it more as a ride share. We were both going to the same place, anyway."

"This Goblin Tower wasn't saved on my map."

"I thought it would. Especially if your dad is The Goblin."

Harry froze. It didn't seem like it was public information yet. Cautiously, he questioned, "How… how did you know that?"

"Why else would The Goblin King want you here?"

The Goblin King. That was Norman Osborn's new title. It wasn't enough for the corrupted businessman to terrorize the city as a giant green beast. Now he was a commander for insane devotees.

Harry looked away. He didn't know how to respond. He hadn't heard much from his dad since the man became the terrible green monster. He was certain Norman was done with him completely. That view shifted upon hearing The Goblin wanted him at the tower for a reason. He didn't have an explanation, though.

"Why didn't he get me himself?" he solemnly muttered. Norman was never one to see Harry with open arms, but the teen hadn't seen him since his arrival.

"What?" Lily asked.

Harry re-focused on the girl. He couldn't risk showing his vulnerability. He quickly changed the subject. "But your dad is running for mayor! What will he think? What will the voters think if they see his daughter as a Goblin?!"

The young adult fell for the ploy. She rolled her eyes. "Ugh, you sound like his campaign managers."

Harry awaited a proper answer.

Lily saw the other teen was serious. Even though they ended their relationship, she knew he was an honest guy whom she could trust. She confessed, "This is for Daddy. Once your dad, The Goblin King, takes over the city, he promised me that Daddy can be mayor of his own cute little district."

Harry knew his father wouldn't commit to something unless he was getting something in return. Lily wasn't bookish like her own best friend. She had her street smarts. He doubted she was that naive. "Do you really think Norman has Bill's best interest? Before he left, he told me that he was a supporter of Randall Crowne, your dad's opponent."

Uncaring, she shrugged. "Well, after The Goblin King takes over, I doubt he'll need that old opponent anymore. So, you see, it's all win-win. Now, enough about the election and Daddy's work. I need to get you out to the main floor. They're waiting for their Goblin Prince."

Ignoring the boy's puzzled reaction, she laced her green fingers into his normal hand as she led him away.


The warehouse interior was swarming with members. Some already adorned the freakish green skin. Others remained human but proudly wore their tattoo. Their ages varied—from teenagers to middle-aged adults. Some appeared rebellious, ready to take over a corrupted system in the city. Some looked as if they were ready to take a break from office life and find something with more meaning. Broken off in circles, they chattered excitedly. That echoed from wall to wall. One thing obsessed their mind: their ruler.

"Make way for The Goblin Prince!" Lily proudly announced. Her cheerful voice boomed across to the other end. She knew how to get her message heard by the people. She and Harry exited the Tower and reached the main room.

Faces turned towards the couple that entered. Whispers occurred. They parted. Members appeared angry or disgusted, clearly doubting a rich boy should be the heir. No one said anything directly to them, however. No one wanted to face the one the teen boy was under.

Harry made no comment to anyone. This wasn't at all like walking through the cumbersome hallways of Midtown High. There, his fellow classmates acknowledged him with smiles and cheers. (He was already aware of their positive welcoming because of his money. Yet he accepted the red carpet treatment because it beat isolation.) Here, it felt worse. He didn't even have his true companions at his side. He wondered if anyone would notice his absence. He tailed the blonde without question.

As he walked, he saw a stage. It clearly wasn't part of the original design for a chemical plant. Curtains hung from the top. Though the materials were old and faded, it seemed recently constructed. Before Harry had a chance to cross-examine it, he heard someone familiar. He looked around.

He spotted a tall man. This man had a square-like face. His black beard connected to his mustache. Those matched his rich, full color hair. Like the young Osborn, his clothing appeared pricey. He seemed like the type to smoke a good tobacco pipe. To many first timers meeting him, he manifested charm and knowledge. However, to no one else, he carried a devious intention on the inside.

"Doctor Hamilton?" Harry muttered to himself. He noticed the man speaking to other members. He had with him his leather case notepad. They seemed less than thrilled listening to the haughty man.

"You know him?" Lily asked. She figured since her ex-boyfriend's father was head of the party he would be acquainted with some associates.

"He's Midtown High's personal counselor. What's he doing here?"

The auburn was more informed with the man than solely knowing his occupation. He began having regular sessions after Norman's disappearance. However, as their conferences went on, it morphed, less about Harry and more about Norman—his new occupation, his unholy transformation, his deadly weaponry, his freshly formed power. Harry had firmly believed he could share confidential information with a man trained to help others psychologically. He traveled away from the blonde, far more concerned with a familiar face.

"Doctor Hamilton?" he called.

The man broke away from his note keeping. He searched for whom addressed him. He spotted a teen he had counseled beforehand. He had been meeting with the son of The Goblin for some time. An idea popped into his head. Calmly, he greeted, "Ah, Harry Osborn. So good to see you well."

"What are you doing here?"

"Why, research, of course. In addition to seeing patients, like yourself, I also write papers. This Goblin cult has really taken this city by storm. As a psychiatrist, I'm simply seeing what makes these members tick."

Harry wanted to accept that response. As they had their meetings, each one shared something about his personal life. It added up that a professional would want to continue educating himself and teaching others. Yet something inside of Harry cast doubt. Their private conversations on school ground turned hollow over time, like Hamilton was speaking through Harry to get to Norman.

"I figured the son of The Goblin would arrive sooner or later," Hamilton began. He placed his hand on the auburn's shoulder. His grip was tight. "You're The Goblin Prince. You must have some interesting stories."

Harry realized how quickly word spread about his father and himself. Truthfully, he answered, "Actually, I just got here. My ex-girlfriend tazed me and locked me up in the tower."

The man listened. He carefully calculated that information. Already he knew the young Osborn was brought against his will, meaning Norman had to use force on a family member. He nodded. "I understand how much this could leave you feeling vulnerable. The Goblin King has plenty at his disposal—gliders, Pumpkin Bombs, magnificent strength, even taking down a S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrior. It's quite a package. Tell me, now that your dad is The Goblin King, does he have any vulnerability he may wish to share?"

Harry found the question odd. Staring into Hamilton's eyes, he saw something he never truly noticed before, a sort of greed and quest for power. A foul stench wafting through the air corrupted everyone who set foot within the warehouse. He grew uncomfortable. The hand on his shoulder began to hurt him. He broke away from the grip. Keeping his eyes on the man, he took a step back.

"Is everything alright, Harry?" Hamilton asked. He kept his focus on him, like a predator on its prey. "I understand you've been through a lot. Being The Goblin Prince must weigh on you. You know you can trust me. I don't have the same tattoo a lot of these cult members have."

"Look, Doctor Hamilton," the auburn started. "I don't think you or me should be here. I don't even want Lily here, and she's my ex."

Hamilton looked past the teen. The blonde buoyantly waved to them. He turned his attention back to the teen boy. He maintained his charismatic smile. "Harry, you and I have talked about making choices, weighing the pros and cons. You don't have to be here if you don't want to."

"What do you mean?"

"You're here because your father wants you here. And I sense it's not that you don't want to be here for your father as it is you don't want to be here for The Goblin. You not wanting to do this, to be this Goblin Prince, doesn't make you a bad son." Hamilton paused for a moment. He noted he had his patient's attention, like a snake weaving. "You see, you both could be free from this burden. Someone else could take the throne—it doesn't have to be you. And your father could be liberated from this Goblin curse."

Like Norman, Hamilton enlisted his own rhetoric. After infiltrating the warehouse, he began networking. He had something for himself. Setting his hand once more on the boy's shoulder, he leaned closer. "Just show me where the Goblin formula is, and I can send it over to a chemical lab and have that team find a cure. I wouldn't want to showcase your record publicly. Think about what harm it could do to your friends, like Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson."

Harry couldn't move. His true friends gave him support whenever he needed a break from his authoritative father. The brunet and redhead both had big dreams after high school, to attend Empire State University. He swallowed hard. He pondered his options. He didn't know exactly how everyone was turning into Goblins. But perhaps he could ask Lily to find a vile or gas tank and share it with his doctor. "Well…"

Before he could answer, something orange and round rolled its way onto the floor. A timed beeping emerged from it. All eyes fell on it.

Lily seemed to recognize the object. "Is that…?"

"Here?" Hamilton questioned.

Harry gasped. "It's a Pumpkin Bomb! Everyone get down!"

His eyes fell on the attractive blonde. He immediately grabbed her by her waist and pulled her away. The duo crashed to the floor.

Anyone who was there was already mindful with the round weapon. Many took cover. Others, truly ignorant of the situation, watched in confusion. An explosion quickly followed. Screams of anguished came soon afterwards. Everything went strangely quiet for a minute or two.

"Who threw that?" Harry wondered. He lifted himself up halfway. He heard groans and spotted splotches of deep red. He began to shake at the sight. He never truly thought of what a small object could do. Taking a guess, his eyes widened as he softly gasped, "Could it have been…"

His question was answered when he heard a familiar sound. It was like a machine roaring. Through the widened doors entered a glider. A maniacal cackle announced his entry. The teen heard the applause when everyone saw whom was riding it. The Goblin had arrived. Blue eyes watched as the glider and its rider circled around the gigantic room.

The anticipated leader gazed below him. He noticed all his devotees, those with and without the matching green skin. He spotted some bodies damaged from the detonation. He took no care to that. The auburn teen caught his attention. The two kept their focus on each other as the glider slowly descended.

"Dad?" Harry gasped, standing up. He had already seen the glider and the morphed complexion. He kept their eye contact. Despite all that happened, despite the abandonment, he was still surprised with whom he saw.

The Goblin came to a standstill. He clearly enjoyed the admiration. But he had a speech prepared. He rose a hand. The crowd stopped chattering.

"I am pleased to see how much my followers have grown," he began, his voice blaring. It sounded hideous, yet it was distinctly Norman Osborn. "I summoned many of you from the sewers. Some of you came to me in search of purpose. I granted that desire by providing you with the serum. I gave you shelter, a new place to call home. So before we take our charge to the city, we must give a proper welcoming. I know some of you have qualms about an upcoming heir."

Harry turned astounded how easily his father gained control. He had seen examples from times he escorted him to board meetings. He didn't know what to make of that given information.

"But this boy here is my son," the leader continued. His green figure specifically pointed to the auburn. "You will refer to him as The Goblin Prince."

Harry was in the center. All rumors were true—the Goblin Cult, his dad becoming its king, and he to become its successor, a prince. He felt numerous yellow eyes on him, like eerier stars. He heard chitchat. He couldn't discern if it was positive or negative. He didn't know if he was supposed to give his own commentary. But he had nothing to say.

"He doesn't seem like much," The Goblin continued. "And he isn't. He's flunked out of his private school, Standard High, and had to attend a public one. He permitted his peers to treat him like their personal bank account and trample over him for school projects. He has been unable to control even a simpleminded symbiote."

Harry couldn't believe his father was mocking him in front of so many strangers. His faults were listed off like a grocery list. He felt embarrassed. When he had woken up at the hospital after his mess with Venom, his father was with him. He knew Norman was secretly disappointed in him for that washout.

"But, nonetheless," The Goblin went on. "I have chosen my son for my heir. Am I playing favorites? Of course I am. I can do anything I want. I am The Goblin King!"

The crowd roared once more from the great power The Goblin displayed.

"So as your king," The Goblin proceeded, gaining control once more. He activated his glider. The machine began to whirl once more. "I'll need to wheedle out those whom are disloyal to me and my son."

His eyes landed on the man with the mustache. Activating his glider, he charged towards Hamilton. The man froze in place. His brown eyes widened as he stared directly into the insane yellow ones. The Goblin grinned, "Don't think I hadn't done my own research on those whom have associated with Harry, you bastard!"

His immense body towered over the other. He took a fist. He swung it down over the man's head. The contact held a great impact. An agonized bellow ripped from his throat. Liquids splattered. The body, losing connection to the control center, dropped to the ground. The Goblin stopped on the other end.

"And don't let any of you forget who's in charge," he ordered. Red dripped down his green hand.

Harry gawked at the scene. The red running like rivers. The insides slowly oozing out. He could handle such tragedies in films thanks to movie magic. But this was real. Someone he knew and interacted with died in front of him. The rotting smell was pungent. It overwhelmed his sense. He placed his hand over his mouth. He wanted to vomit.

The Goblin looked over the group. The entire crowd hushed.

"Anyone else who even lays a finger on my son without my permission will answer to me."

The teen couldn't believe it. His father was protecting him. Then again, perhaps the shielding was merely a cover up for a malevolent plot. That was how Norman Osborn operated.

Harry darted his eyes around the room. He already knew the power and charisma Norman was capable of. With the industrialist as The Goblin, that ability amplified. None of the other Goblins uttered a word. He spotted fear in some. But he was also flabbergasted. Some displayed respect. They respected a leader who took charge. A leader unafraid to kill on sight. Looking towards the blonde, he noticed she kept her poise. She seemed unaffected by the event.

"Get this filthy body outta here," The Goblin commanded. "Dispose of it properly so that no one traces it back here. Not that this mediocre therapist will be missed by anyone."

Two members stepped up to the errand. One had blonde hair and the other had brown. No doubt they were seeking praise from their ruler. They quickly wrapped up the body in an orange tarp. They tied it up with leftover rope. They worked like it was any other mundane task at a minimum wage job.

Doubt and denial swarm over the auburn. He had seen Norman eliminate those who opposed him in the world of business. He fired men and women, young and old. He took control of the competition. But he never imagined his father enacting something so cruel, so inhumane.

"Dad!" he shouted. He couldn't believe that sound emitted from him.

The Goblin stopped walking. He appeared lost in his own mind for a moment. Perhaps something deep within responded to his child.

"Why? H-how?" Harry struggled to find his words. He felt his heart continue to beat quickly. Surely it was a scare tactic gone wrong.

"He was a failed man in his position." The Goblin, however, found his words no problem.

Harry recalled the time he spent alone after his father disappeared. He disbelieved that his dad was now some green beast. If an organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. saw this, if they caught whiff as something as gruesome as murder, they may lock Norman away. Harry couldn't stand the idea of being separated from his only family. He darted from his spot. After encircling his father, he stood in front of him. His innocent voice begged, "Dad, please, don't do this. Call off this cult. Put an end to your plans for the city. Send everyone home."

Monstrous yellow eyes met sincere blue.

Murmuring fell over the mob.

The Goblin's pointy ears picked up the chatter. He rose his meaty hand. Those around him assumed the gesture meant he was about to speak. Instead, he smacked the teen.

Harry flew across. Members fled from their spot. He skidded against the ground. His open flesh burned. He came to a rough stop, crashing into boxes and crates. The sting was powerful around his eye. He was unable to lift himself. But he heard stomping coming in his direction. A great shadow cast over him. He trembled.

"Don't you ever speak out of turn again," The Goblin ordered, towering. "Just because they don't have permission to touch you doesn't mean I don't. I make all the rules here. And I can damn well break them if I please. So know that I won't be talked down by anyone. Not even my own son. Is that clear?"

Harry was unable to answer. He was in shock. His father had only struck him once before. It was punishment for mentioning his dead mother. The father and son had their differences. But the father had never physically castigated him. His whole body ached. He only panted.

When it seemed the boy learned his place, The Goblin stood up. He appeared to be finished with the teen. As a ruler, he had other tasks to perform.

"What should we do with him?" Lily asked. She stood by her ex-boyfriend as he brought himself to his feet.

"Take him to get imprinted," the leader directed. "Then lock him back in his chamber."

Harry's eye widened. He had an idea of what was to happen.

The Goblin marched away, riding his glider out of the warehouse.

Once the king was gone, the hordes parted. The two volunteers stayed and finished removing the rotting body. Already flies were swarming and crawling over the dead flesh.

Harry continued to stand still. His brain was trying to process all that took place. He was taken from his home, kept against his will, witnessed bloodshed, and saw how much his only family had changed. He couldn't escape from the poison oozed by The Goblin.

Lily wrapped her arms around Harry's. Perhaps as a girlfriend, she had special permission. Or perhaps The Goblin was uninterested in enforcing his own rules. She squealed in delight. "They've been refining the perfect tattoo for you! Let's go check it out."

Harry, realizing the reality of his fate, dismally lowered his head.


The night twinkled with uncountable stars. Such illumination distinguished the dark blue. Hardly a cloud blotted the endless sky. The chilled air sent a relaxing shudder. The atmosphere seemed peaceful for normal people. An irate voice broke the harmony.

"How can you go?!" a teen with red hair yelled. "You could be KILLED!"

"Harry will be killed if I don't!" a brunet boy retorted.

Stunned, Mary Jane stared at him. The boy standing before her wore his red and blue costume. In his hand was a scrunched red mask. His slovenly brown hair with the floppy bangs were outlined by the graceful moonlight. Her natural emerald eyes remained on his sapphire.

He noted her pink lips turned upside down. Her eyebrows pointed upwards. He saw her pain. He had to remain strong in his position. Utilizing a softer voice, he reasoned, "I gotta go. Harry could be in real danger. He's my best friend. More than that. He's my brother."

He thought back to the last time the two hung around. Harry had been kidnapped by Doc Ock. Spider-man needed to rescue him. But Peter checked in with him afterwards; Harry then declared his appreciation to their deep bond. Peter had his secrets. Yet he always cared about those close to him. He gazed out towards the direction he needed to head to. He then turned back around.

"Can you do me one thing?" he asked, focusing on his long-time neighbor.

"Look after Aunt May?" the girl guessed. She seemed to have accepted his objective.

"Right. Harry's in this mess because of Mister Osborn. Norman may be Harry's dad, but he's The Goblin. He's bat shit crazy. Even before he became a Goblin. If anything goes wrong, if anything major happens, I need her to get to safety. You, too."

The young Watson understood the request. With her reporting, she had seen first hand the true power capable through The Goblin. Their current situation mattered more than a possible lead to an internship at The Daily Bugle. She had a personal reason to be involved. Fear wasn't part of her style. She scowled once more.

"So your plan is to go head first into this warfare alone?!" she argued. "You can't expect me or your aunt to let you fight this while we cower in Forest Hills!"

"I know," Peter calmly countered. "I don't plan for either of you to. There's safety in numbers. If Norman goes after you, or if he sends someone after you, you both can have each other's back."

He smiled, "You and Aunt May are the most badass women I know."

She listened to his reasoning. He had clearly thought this crusade through. She only hoped he wouldn't consider a needless self-sacrifice. "I'm not only concerned about the mission. I support you. I wanted to make sure your head is in the game. I mean, to fight this huge battle after you recently broke up with—"

She stopped when Peter embraced her.

Chest to chest, their hearts pounded.

He held her, the girl he had known since childhood. The girl who had been a good friend. The girl whom he shared many qualities with. He smelt her citrus shampoo. He felt her warmth. A part of him didn't want to let go. But he did.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to linger. I'm under a lot of stress. I know that that's not an excuse—"

He became speechless when the redhead wrapped her arms around his neck. Moving her vivid crimson lips towards his ear, she whispered, "Be careful, Tiger. Your brother is on the inside. But you also have loved ones on the outside."

Her warm breath tingled his cooled skin. But the value of her words meant more. Allowing someone so close to him be aware of his dual identity was a tough decision. He was glad to have someone not only supporting Spider-man, but also Peter Parker. They pulled apart.

"I'll be back with one Osborn in tow," he promised.

The red mask went over the face. He shot his webs and made his way towards The Goblin Tower.


The wall-crawler arrived at the warehouse near the ocean. His mind boggled with fear while his heart pulled him in the right direction. He spotted the ghastly Tower. Knowing who was running the operation, he had to devise a smart method.

"Spider-man will cause too much of a scene. Gotta infiltrate this quietly and unsuspecting. Better go as plain ol' Peter Parker. No one will ever suspect him—err—me."

He removed his impromptu bag fashioned from his webbings. He quickly changed into his street clothes—a faded blue jacket, a worn down white T-shirt, a pair of stained jeans, and a pair of grimy sneakers. "I should really go shopping one of these days. I can put that on my To Do list, right after defeating The Goblin and rescuing Harry."

Lacing up his shoes, he heard voices. He quickly hid himself behind a crusty Dumpster. He noticed two green splotches. Looking ahead, he spotted two people dumping something wrapped in a heavy tarp in the water. He concentrated on the shape. "Is that… a human body?"

He bore trouble grasping the situation. Once the two dumpers were out of sight, he dashed towards the edge. He stared down into the murky waters. With so much force and a vast space, the ocean could conceal a number of things, even people. "Norman has always been fascinated by power. He would want as many people to worship him. Would killing a member subtract from his groupies? Or would that demonstrate more of his unquestionable authority?"

He had no time to ponder the observation, for his spider-sense tingled. "Who's there?!"

His eyes widened when he spotted Goblins. None were the infamous Goblin. They appeared more like ones around adolescence. Yet they were still mutated with the horrifying green skin, the frightening pointy ears, and the haunting yellow eyes. It was hard to tell they were once human.

Prepping into mission mode, Peter had to act dumb. "Who are you? What are you?"

"Fool!" one Goblin shouted. "Are you unaware of what is to come?"

"This isn't Halloween," Peter shouted back. "Try again in October."

"A spy!" the other one concluded. "Most definitely a spy!"

Peter scoffed, "Do you see me wearing an Avenger's logo?"

"No need to shred him just yet. The King will be most pleased for bringing in a prisoner!"

"King?" the brunet repeated. He was truly confused. "What king?"

Green hands grabbed hold of his arms. Instinctively, the brunet defended himself from their unwanted grip. But he remembered his task. He loosened his strength.

"Hey!" Peter cried, feigning his fruitless efforts of struggling. "Lemme go!"

The fiends cackled menacingly as they dragged him along towards the Tower.


The brunet continued to play his part. He faked his struggles, but he stealthily assisted the cult members in guiding him throughout the Tower. He tried to form a plan. He questioned if he should locate his best friend first or if he should take down The Goblin. He would need to free himself from the fatuous goons and change outfits. He was led down a hallway constructed from stone.

They soon arrived to a heavy door. It was designed like any entrance to a dungeon. One member continued to hold the prisoner while the other opened the door. It sounded heavy.

"Keep moving!" they ordered Peter.

The three arrived to a small room. There was only enough space for someone to stand guard with the other side acting as a holding cell. Currently, no member was delegated as the warden. But the door to the cell was closed, most likely locked. A set of keys on a ring hung by a nail on the opposite side. Peter felt a green hand constraining his arm as the other snatched the keys. He unlocked it and pulled the gate open. That also sounded heavy.

Before Peter could make a comment, he became surprised when they shoved him inside.

"Let the Prince have his little playmate!" they yelled, mockingly.

Their strength threw him off. He tumbled onto the other side.

"Playmate?" Peter grunted, staying on his side. "Prince? What are we? Kindergärtners playing pretend?"

The bars clinked behind him. The heavy door slammed. Security in a building brimming with monsters was tight. Unless he broke out as Spider-man, he was trapped. He tried to take in his surroundings. He noticed the keys were gone. He couldn't use his webbing to grab them for freedom.

"Drat!" he cried. His only chance at liberation was bending the bars himself. But that idea quickly dropped upon hearing someone.

"Peter?" a familiar voice called. "Pete? That you?"

"Huh?" the brunet questioned. His observation broke. He looked up and saw another teen. "Harr?"

He stood up. He kept his perceptive blue eyes over the other young adult. Something was off. The once pristine goldenrod sweater was soiled with dirt. One platinum sleeve was even torn off. The usual well-combed auburn hair was unkempt. The blue eyes that typically held abounding certainty were locked with fear.

When Harry saw the newcomer was his best friend, he raced towards him. He had dreaded who else had entered the prison, so he hid himself in the shadows. He tightly hugged him. It was good seeing a familiar face. One that hadn't been corrupted by ghoulish green skin.

Peter was caught off guard in how quickly he found his buddy. He returned the friendly embrace. Recalling the wreck in the Osborn penthouse, he turned relieved seeing his pal still standing. He didn't know what twisted intent the teen's Goblin father had for him. His buddy was unaccustomed to fighting villains. The world of superheroes and cosmic powers were not his. He was only heaved into it.

"You know what's going on?" they asked each other as they pulled apart.

The brunet quickly studied his friend at a closer angle. He spotted the bruised eye. His friend wasn't one for scraps. He pondered if any more scars were buried underneath his posh clothing. He clenched a fist. His anger began to stir. How he longed to punch out every Goblin. But he had to control himself. He couldn't become Spider-man quite yet. A sudden outburst would arise trouble. He needed to further survey the situation. He also needed to support his best friend, who was obviously enduring a rough time.

The auburn inspected his friend. He didn't see the same haunting tattoo branded on Peter's arm. He doubted that the incorrigible brunet would ever hold any grit to have joined. He noted the muddy jacket and jeans. "Oh, no! Did Norman capture you!?"

"Uh, not really him. Some muscled cronies in cheap costumes nabbed me. The ones who tossed me in here. Are they preparing for a parade? They'll hafta file a permit with the city first."

"Those aren't costumes." Harry looked away. A part of him wondered if Norman made a special role for the brainy brunet. He squeezed a fist. His father always preferred Peter over him. The familiar bits of envy and jealousy crept over him. He would harbor such negativity whenever he, his father, and his best friend were on an outing or conversing in the penthouse. Considering their current situation, he tried to brush those aside.

"It's all part of The Goblin Cult," he quietly disclosed.

"Uh, yeah, I've heard about that. I thought it was just a bad rumor." Peter did what he could to cover his tracks. He had to appear innocent for the time being. Even though Norman was the mastermind behind the party, it didn't automatically mean Harry was guilty. The younger Osborn respected his father, but the two carried a different moral sense. One reason one became The Goblin, and the other pushed a friend out of the way of an oncoming attack at the school's cafeteria. To gain any advantage, Peter asked, "What have your heard?"

"It's full of weirdos impressed with The Goblin. They wanna follow him. Do his bidding no matter how fucked up it is. Kinda like those ass kissers already surrounding him back at Oscorp."

"Do they get reward points or prizes? What kinda lowlifes would wanna join?"

"Vin, for one."

Peter grew astonished from the response. "Vin? Vin Gonzalez? From Biology?"

Harry nodded. "And Lily."

Peter heard the desolated voice. He didn't need to know the surname to conclude who was mentioned. He understood his best friend still harbored feelings for her. Questions also arose within him. "So, did you happen to see—"

"I dunno. I only saw Lily. She didn't mention her at all. I was so shocked with everything that I didn't even think about asking. I'm sorry."

A tiny pain rose in Peter's heart. He placed on a small smile. "You don't hafta apologize. I know you got a lot on your plate. It's all king-sized."

Harry didn't reply. He silently looked at Peter. He thought about their lives prior to tonight. Before transferring schools, Harry struggled academically. His grades improved because of his pal. Meanwhile Midtown High's professional wall-flower had a bright path ahead of him. But association with The Goblin could ruin it all. Especially if he was mingling with The Goblin's son.

"Pete… I'm so sorry. You got dragged into this."

The brunet heard the desolation in the other boy's voice. He sadly watched his friend. He felt himself growing angry for how much Harry was tormenting himself over his uncaring father. "Hey, it's OK, we'll figure out something. What's the worse your dad can do now that he's green?"

Harry once feared he would lose Peter as a friend when word came out about Norman and his new occupation. Yet the other teen was still with him. He understood how intelligent his buddy was when it came to classes. But the school genius was wrong on this account. He could feel his whole body ache. He began to shake. He whispered, "More than you know."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

The young Osborn grew apprehensive. Earlier he endured trouble in finding his words. To express evidence how dangerous the man had become, Harry told the truth. "He… He killed him, Pete! My dad's a fucking murderer!"

Peter turned staggered. Spider-man, however, knew too well. "Kill? Who did he kill?"

"Our school's personal counselor."

"Doctor Hamilton?"

Harry nodded. The horrible action replayed in his mind. The incident was moment by moment yet occurred in an instant. The gruesome sight of a dead man and the pungent smell of perishing flesh returned. His stomach became uneasy. Turning away towards the bars, he vomited.

Peter stepped towards his buddy. He gently placed a hand the other boy's back for support. He knew that his friend had seen the personal counselor once Norman vanished. Despite Harry's wealth and popularity, he had his share of mental problems. He surmised that was the body those followers were dumping. As a hero, he had acclimated to witnessing such gruesome sights. They were never easy to digest. He needed to scope the situation. "You sure? Why would your dad kill Doctor Hamilton?"

"For harassing me."

"Why would he care? Don't get me wrong. He's your dad and everything. But hasn't he let other things slip?"

"He's not the same. Doctor Hamilton probably wanted that Goblin title for himself. He musta had his eyes to steal it." Harry thought about the situation. The beast who was once Norman showed no remorse for his lurid action. He then whispered, "Who knows how many people Dad's killed before him. Even before becoming The Goblin."

He realized how much about his father he didn't know. He always assumed those late nights were for Oscorp projects. He never conceived they carried a far more sinister approach. The man he loved and respected was something else. Norman was a total monster.

Peter had heard enough. He figured Spider-man could return later to beat The Goblin. His first concern was his best friend. "That's a red flag if I ever saw one waving. Forget everything and let's make our escape."

Harry, however, didn't share the same hope. "It's not gonna be easy."

"Yeah, I know. Looks like there's a grubby Goblin around every corner. But if we work at it, I think we can make it out. We'll just need to make it to a first-aid station afterwards. You're caught up on all your shots, right?" He knew he was nervous. The numbers were stacked against them. A powerful enemy had grown more powerful. He had numerous underlings. But Peter had to keep his hope. To give into despair would mean the end for himself and others he cared about, including an entire city.

Harry could hear the certainty in his friend's voice. But he knew better. Dismally, he shook his head. "They'll know that I'm gone."

"Who? Your dad?"

"Everyone. That's gonna cause an uprise. They'll come looking for me."

"Why? How will every member of this cult know to look for you?"

Harry fell quiet. He fell quieter than before. Yet it didn't seem like it was from a lack of a response. He seemed defeated.

Peter spotted that. His Spider-sense didn't go off. But he developed a bad feeling.

"Harr," he gently called. "What's wrong? What's going on?"

The auburn boy turned. He finally exposed his bare shoulder.

Peter's eyes expanded. On his buddy's skin was a tattoo. The image was a geometric green goblin-like monster. But unlike the other cult followers, in place of the purple cap was a crown.

"They're calling me The Goblin Prince," Harry announced.

A chill raced down Peter's back. The title made sense. He was the son of Norman, after all. And a son was destined to follow in his father's footsteps. Even monstrous ones. Peter refused for his buddy to accept that gruesome destiny. "Harr! They hadn't given you that serum yet, have they?!"

The auburn shook his head.

Peter, or perhaps it was really Spider-man, sighed in relief. At least he wouldn't have to duel his best friend.

"Nothing's been done yet," Harry assured. He thought about the stage he saw earlier. "Stormin' Norman's always been a showboat. He must be planning some sort of ceremony."

"When?"

"I dunno." Harry then lightly laughed, "I guess that's one good thing about having a busy dad. He forgets to do things with his son."

Peter didn't reply. They were now on a timed schedule. Spider-man needed to bring down a cult leader. Peter needed to rescue Harry. The situation seemed bleak. Once more he gawked at the eerie image. His best friend was now property of The Goblin.

To be continued…

Vincent "Vin" Gonzalez, see Free Comic Book Day vol. 2007 #Spider-Man, 2007.

Michele Gonzalez, see Amazing Spider-Man: Extra 3, 2009.

Lily Hollister/Menace/Queen Cat, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #545, 2008. For Menace, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #549, 2008. For Queen Cat, see AXIS: Hobgoblin #2, 2015.

William "Bill" Hollister, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #546, 2008.

Randall Crowne, Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #550, 2008.

Doctor Barton "Bart" Hamilton/Green Goblin III, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #167, 1977. For Green Goblin III, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #175, 1977. For "death", see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #180, 19778. For return, see Clone Conspiracy vol. 1 #2, 2017.

Empire State University, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #1, 1963.

Emily Osborn-Lyman, for initial appearance in a photo, see Spectacular Spider-Man #180, 1991 ("The Child Within: Part 3 of 6"). For full appearance, see Spider-Man: Revenge of the Green Goblin #1, 2000. For her possible return as Emma, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #789, 2018.