Chapter 4 [Fifteen Minutes Later]
[A/N: All references to Osborn point to Norman.]
Osborn wandered down a busy street. The brisk wind bit at his cheeks. His ears turned as red as his hair. His skin dimpled even through the thick overcoat. Still his mind registered none of those things. It swam through memories. With each step, his mental haze thinned just a bit more. More images flooded his brain.
Spider-Man swinging over buildings. He built up momentum and swung feet first into another costumed figure…
…Wait…the figure…he wore a purple top, boots and an elf hat? What the Hell? He was like a goblin from fairy tales and….
Goblin….
He shuddered. He rubbed his forehead to alleviate the pounding therein.
A metallic clink against the sidewalk jarred him even in mid-haze.
His eyes recognized the keychain. His gloved fingers picked it back up. Consideration picked over each key. His mind seized onto the last pieces of his current puzzle.
"I remember." Realization seized onto a square key in the chain's center. "This key goes to a door." He hustled down two blocks. A sharp right later, he rushed down Ralston St. and crossed into the heart of the theater district.
Yes, you Cretin! IT GOES TO OUR DOOR! HEHEHEHEHE! WE'VE LET PARKER ABUSE US FOR TOO LONG! a low guttural voice chastised from within his mind.
He looked around. Nobody was within ten feet of him. "I know. Who are you?"
UNLOCK THE DOOR! I'LL LEAD YOU! the voice challenged.
He swayed in the wind. His knees felt like butter. Still he pressed on. Instinct (or perhaps the Voice) led him two more blocks and then down an alley. His gait picked up as he drew closer to whatever goal lay at the end.
At the alley's end, a rather nondescript door with a weather-beaten handle awaited him.
He stuck the key in the lock and turned it. Much to his surprise, he opened it. He walked inside and shut the door behind him. Without looking, his hand found the light switch.
The lights snapped on revealing many stacked crates and stored things. The dust on them spoke to the length of their stay in that place. Still nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "This doesn't seem any different than the others."
LOOK TOWARD THE BACK! YOU'LL SEE! the Voice told him.
Familiarity for some reason egged him onward. He crept through the warehouse. Nerves ate at him. His eyes scurried over each crate and detail. His feet seemed to know where they were going. Along the back wall, his hand reached for a part of the wall.
A secret door slid open.
GO ON! WHAT WE NEED TO GET JUSTICE FOR HARRY IS IN THERE! the Voice admonished.
He stepped over the threshold. As he did so, the panel slid shut behind him. His eyes adjusted to the lights coming on overhead. He looked about the expanse.
On the far wall, several bat-shaped metallic devices hung on their hooks. Green and purple costumes rested beside them. Two purple bags on straps resembling a lady's handbag sat on a worn and faded worktable.
"I see now." His eyes narrowed. He clenched his teeth. "Parker has done enough!"
YES!
"He hurt Harry. He and his friends! They interfere in what I'd do for him! But Parker! Parker is Spider-Man!" He curled his mouth in a dark frown. He rushed over to the costumes. He ran the material through his fingers. He saw the green grotesque mask looking down at him….
…almost like an old friend greeting him once again…
EMBRACE ME! THEN WE WILL DEAL WITH PARKER! HE'LL NEVER HURT HARRY OR US AGAIN! WOO HOO! HAHAHAHAAHA!
He tossed his coat onto a chair. Then he stripped off his clothes. In their place, he slipped into the green outfit. He pulled the purple top and shorts on over it. The boots fit his feet perfectly. The gloves fit snugly over his hands. And the mask…well that met every contour of his face and head like a lover's embrace.
Power surged through every limb. A weight lifted from his shoulders. He flexed his arms. "YES! AT LAST!" He wasn't Norman Osborn at that moment. The businessman lay buried once again.
The Green Goblin grinned. Exhilaration exploded akin to a fireworks display on the Fourth of July. He made sparks dance over the fingertips. "Parker, you will burn!" He inspected one of the bags. In there, he found various devices and incendiaries. "Enough of your meddling!" He lifted one of the bat devices off of its hooks and set it on the floor. He slid the bag's strap over his left shoulder. "Now we shall see who escapes, Insect!" He touched another button on the wall.
Overhead, the skylight's hinges groaned from lack of use. Slowly it creaked open.
The bat device smoked and shot flame from its rear tail pipe. It lifted off of the ground. Then it propelled him into Winter's overcast.
Vengeance now rode the brisk winds on a streaking bat glider. Woe on New York once more….