*I DO NOT own any rights or properties of MARVEL,Spike Chunsoft, RIOT! All Characters are owned by respected companies. This IS A FANFIC, I ONLY OWN A FEW OC's!
The Amazingly Spectacular Spider-Man Season 1: (Issue 3: A Suspicion Mischief )
One year later, November 29th Thursday, 2009…
"Ah, christ! That's the alarm! You said it wasn't working!" A man said, taking cash and goods in a bag in all black ski mask and clothes while holding a submachine gun.
"I hacked it! Of course they'll set up a backup!" One replied.
"C'mon! C'mon! 30 seconds in! Cops are coming soon! Get your asses out of here!" A man said.
Mostly a thug in a ski-mask with all black clothing with a pistol on his right hand and a bag on his left, mostly with stolen goods. Which was money. A standard thing for someone to steal all the time. As it was three men leaving a building without of course burning it to destroy all evidence. Before they all could get in, a familiar sound came and they all looked up at the dark-night sky with lights on, making all three stop on their tracks, "Oh no, NOT HIM!" Then a sound was made…
*THWIP!*
The robber was now on the ground with a large web on him. The remaining two saw a young man in dark-red and blue suit with black webs all over the red that was a bit messy, had a symbol on his front of a spider with two black and white eye lenses, behind him had a red-8 legs large spider, (Again, this is the suit from Spider-Man Edge of Time, Classic/Amazing Suit) He jumps onto a car and crouches down. He shakes his head as he looks at the robber, "Dude, really? I mean guys, it's a school night! It's all past your bedtime!" Spider-Man said.
"Kill the bug!" The two fired their weapons at Spider-Man, which backfired as Spider-Man in fast reflexes, dodging all bullets as he did a few flips. They reloaded their guns as quickly as they could but Spider-Man fired two webs at their guns and he pulled them to him. He punched both of them to the ground and back flips, webbing them up. Then Spider-Man turned and saw a big man looking at him, almost looking like The Terminator-rip off.
"Um, dude, this isn't comic-con. Or San Diego. That's WAY too early for cosplay!" Spider-Man quipped, the big thug had a shotgun with one hand, but Spider-Man kicked the gun away and jump-kicked him in the face. The big-thug swung punches left and right, but Spider-Man dodged all with ease, then Spider-Man uppercut the thug and double-kicked him very fast, making the thug dizzy from the fast attacks. Spider-Man webbed all the tugs to their getaway-car and the large thug on a lamp-post as the New York Police cars came and saw the webbed thugs with a calling card on one of them.
"Courtesy of your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!"
"WOOOOOOOOOO!" Then Spider-Man shot a web and swung through the dark-night city. He does it again as he swings, doing a few air-flips and 360's and leap building to building. And shot another web and swung through again. He gets to his house, he sighs in relief and exhaustion. He took off his mask, revealing his young-to-mid teens by, 16 years old, with messy-brown hair as well brown eyes, Peter Parker. He took off his top part of his suit, revealing his toned-athletic body and two brace-lits that were his web shooters.
He places his whole suit in a hidden compartment on his bag and in his room, he puts on his gray-shirt with long sleeves and blue-shorts as since it was a school night he sat down on his desk, checking his webs and web shooters. Inspecting them daily, making sure the trigger and cartagines were intact and working properly while checking his camera for his "part-time" job. Peter then got to his bed, cutting off the light and resting for school.
…
…
…
NYPD Police Station in the basement, lower floors, 10:15 PM…
"NYPD finest versus one guy in a clown costume. Every scene of crime, late or day, this clown-guy comes. Webbing up everything and everyone, yet, we still can't have any other leads?" A Male-Officer said.
"Well, no matter how much or early we get there, he be already left the scene. Guess JJ's right about that mask-freak anyway." One replied, while sitting on a desk playing a card game with two more Officers.
"You think Captain Stacey is gonna order a citywide arrest on the, um, Spider-Guy?" One asked, which made another male Officer scoff at the obvious answer.
"Spider-MAN. Not guy. Spider-Man, tch, fitting name for a vigilante-crook and of course he's gonna issue an arrest on the damn-freak."
"Jeez, you didn't have to sound that rough." A female Officer said, while winning the card game.
"A-Anyway, y'all. Let's just hope and see-" The Officer was cut off by a ring of a phone on his desk, sighing for maybe a call, he placed his book down while taking the call, "Hello?"
"1, 8, 2, 8, 7, 20, 550, 2, 4, 5, 8, 9, 11, 12-" The Officer hangs up, chuckling.
"What's funny? Your wife called?"
"No and fuck you. But some punk prank called me. Gonna get someone to hook up where the caller called from." The rest of the crew laughed a bit. Common prank calls happen all the time, getting up, placing his hat on his head. As he walked, his radio came alive, as soon he touched it to reply…
*BOOM!*
The entire floor in the basement of the Police station blew up, flames coming out, all Officers were killed on the spot, although one was alive but barling holding to life, he crawled to the exit before a figure rose from the flames, the Officer took out his standard-issue Glock 17 pistol, firing the suspect. But the bullets did little-to-nothing as the figure picked up the Officer by the neck, snapping it half and dropping the dead Officer down as more figures came, all had the emotionless expression as well wearing the same gray-jumpsuits.
One went to a door where nearly all Police Uniforms, equipment, even weapons as Pistols with along ammunition as well. One by one they all took nearly all the police equipment, uniforms and weapons. They all quickly hurried up out of there, as the floor continued to burn as sirens of the NYFD came with more of the NYPD.
…
…
…
The Next Day in the Manor of the Osborn Family…
"Dude, see what was on the news? One of the NYPD police station was bombed. I mean it happened in the basement." Harry said, while he was next to Peter. They were both at Harry's place or mansion in the outskirts between Manhattan and Queens, they were in the living room watching TV with a few snacks on the table with a laptop, newspapers. "Think JJ wants to get snaps?"
"Of course and blame it on Spider-Man. Again. And again. Jeez, doesn't he at least see what Spider-Man do." Peter said, while keeping a lie of him being Spider-Man himself. A year after his Uncle was killed, he vowed to use his powers, this gift yet a curse to live on responsibility to protect those in New York. Though as he did, it gained the attention of the Daily Bugle News Editor in Chief, J. Jonah Jameson or JJJ for short. He has been on Peter, to who as Spider-Man, just from last year, calling him reckless even obstruction of justice as getting in the way of letting the police do their work.
"Yeah. Kinda, um, bullcrap to be honest. But, Pete, do you say it's a possibility?" Harry asked, taking a bite of a snack, which was a potato chip.
"Spider-Man doesn't even scream a Mad-Bomber type. There are way more guys who know how to set up bombs better than Spider-Man himself." Peter answered, as it sound he was defending Spider-Man, it was more of defending himself from of course proofless-accusations. Though it seemed to please Harry of the answer.
"Yeah, I guess so. But, still, I know it's a bit early and all but Pete are you still kinda interested in working at Oscorp? My Dad still got an internship for anyone." Harry asked as he was eating a bag of chips, same with Peter.
"Dude, your Dad's is one, if not the known-living genius scientist in the world. Of course I wanna try it out and-"
"Boys! Come here, please." The two teens stopped, got up and went to the back of the mansion where Norman was, sitting on a table with a laptop in front of him, a cup of orange juice with crackers, "I kept overhearing your conversations. Even the bombing of the police station, which by all was terrible. Those men and women who serve in our communities or this great city are killed in one of their stations."
"Um, excuse me, sir but you think Spider-Man did it?" Peter asked Norman, which Harry nodded as well.
It took Norman a minute to think, he took a sip of orange juice, then eyed his son and Peter, "It's rather what we think, but to actually think of his intentions. Sure, by all means he has been saving lives, stopping petty-small crimes all of this, but is it truly his true intentions? Doing out of his own time instead of-" Norman did paused a bit. Placed a hand on his chin, but shook his head and continued to speak, "Never mind that thought. What I called you two for is, you, Peter. You said you have interest in my company?"
"Oh, um, yes sir. For a while, I have did peak an interest in working at Oscorp for a while. Though it's in Manhattan. Plus, my, um Aunt's vehicle needs a bit repair at the moment, so-"
"What if I give you a tour? Have my personal driver come pick where you live. Free of charge, of course. Let you see how I do in my company. Once you see it, you can't unsee it." Norman asked, giving a severe smile at Peter.
"Could Harry come? I remember he told me Oscorp was, um, huge since last year." Peter said, which again Harry nodded and so did Norman as well.
"Well, yes it is. Yes it is. I'll be happy to make you an appointment or we could go today if you wish? Norman then had a notebook, wrote it a few notes then looked at Peter, "So tell Peter, which are you interested in?"
"Well, how's Genetics? I have a thing for genetics as well with biology. Something that my, um, Dad has been doing for his life." Peter said. Norman stopped mid-sentence a bit, then he continued more.
"Well it's settled, Peter. Take this and be there on that date. I will be glad to see you there." Norman said, then got on his laptop, typing, as Peter and Harry got back inside.
"Hey, Harry, I gotta go. My Aunt needs something. Great hanging out with you, again. *Sigh* Junior year, am I right?" Both Peter and Harry fist-pumped each other.
"Yeah, see ya Pete. Though are you sure? I can get my personal car or Dad's driver to-"
"N-No need, buddy. I got my own means to travel. See ya." Peter then left the mansion, Harry just chuckled and shrugged his shoulders though he heard his Dad calling him again, when Harry came back to the backyard of the mansion.
"You know, by all of those friends you had before, Peter, sees the one for you. You know it was okay to tell me during your freshman year, I would've got him a position there." Norman said. Which caused Harry to nervously chuckle, yet nodded at his Father. "Well, it doesn't matter. I like the kid. You did pick the right friend. Now, enjoy your day son."
"Y-Yeah, you too, Dad. I'll be in the living room. Want something to eat?" Harry asked, which made his Father shake his head.
"No, no, son. I am fine." Norman smiled and nodded as Harry left. Though unbeknownst to his son, Norman was looking at videos of Spider-Man's feats, such as him swinging, stopping a car in high-speeds, fighting men twice his size yet still overpowering them, saving people from either car-wrecks or burning buildings, such impressive feats, yet, in Norman's mind, wasted potential of power. Norman took another sip of orange juice.
…
…
…
A Warehouse in the Harbor Docks in New York…
"Alright, put him there." A man said, standing at 5'5 with a cigarette in his mouth as two men standing taller than him threw a man who was tied up with a bag on his head. But one of them, taller and bulker, placed the tied-up man on a chair.
"So, um, this is him, right?" The bulky man said.
"Of course. But hot damn, they didn't call him a Tracker for nothin'." Another man replied with a wip and cowboy hat with a heavy Texan accent, "Took lease than a week and boom, we got the fucker."
"Anyway, remove the bag, the Boss wants to see his face." The short man ordered, the tall-bulky man nodded as he now removed the bag from the tied-man, to who was brushed, beaten-up, sleepless man. The same Japanese man with the dark-purple hair and light purple-eyes, though it seemed his right eye was so bruised to the point where it couldn't be opened. "So, Mr., uh, shit I can't even pronounce his name." He chuckles a bit before taking a pistol that was golden and smacking it to the side-man's head, making him cry in pain.
The Japanese man spat blood on the ground, "F-F-Fuck you! All o-of you! D-Die in hell!"
"Ooh, look at our little-Jappie friend here. Talking big for a small-little shrimp like yourself. Should've stayed in your country with your skank." The Cowboy thug said, laughing a bit before taking out a flask out of his pocket as he walked his way to kick the Japanese man groin, "Thats for Pearl Harbor, you little-fuck."
"Uh, hey, um that was like in the 40's. Damn, you Texans hold grudges, don't y'all?" The tall-bulky man said, crossing his arms.
"They say y'all nice but history says otherwise." He turns to the tall-bulky thug, "And yes, we fuckin' do, okay? Well, for me." Then he took a sip of his flask.
Then after what seemed to be 30 minutes, men came into the warehouse, most in black suits, a few in their casual clothes as again the large-crime boss himself, Wilson Fisk came with his cane, that was black as the top was a shiny-diamond. He stares at the wounded in disappointment as well as disgust. "Well, well, even after a year, we still found you. Predictable." Then he shook his head and paced around the wounded man, then he spoke once more, "Even after the final chance I gave you. You wasted it. As well as your partner, the deal was to have my money back to me. Me. So…what happened that night?"
The Japanese man again spat blood, this time on Fisk shoes, the whole room went silent, for someone to spit or do anything directly would face death. Though in this case, death was already there for the Japanese name. Wilson grabbed his head, making him look directly at himself, "Tell me now. Where did you run off when your partner died?"
"L-Look, I was just…o-on the lookout! All he had to do was to just g-get the money and get out! B-But…I-I had to-!"
"You received a call from someone. Someone overseas." The Japanese man went eyewiden, though Wilson kept an emotionless stare at the Japanese man, "I won't pry your privacy. But nonetheless you have let that get in your way. Your partner on the other hand, died, fell to his death in one of the old warehouses in Queens with the money. Since Officers were there he killed an elderly man, he took off with the man's vehicle then died a few minutes later. And now here you are, alive…for the moment."
"T-Then…g-get it over with. I don't have anything to live on." A Japanese man said. Wilson then just sighs and leaves but before he fully did, with a snap, all men turned to Wilson to who gave all of his thugs a nod. As Wilson Fisk left the warehouse, there were screams until a gunshot rang. Serval gunshots. Then Wilson turned to Welsey who was writing on a miniature notepad.
"As they boys get done, get rid of the body. Everything. Also get a few men to be stationed." Wilson ordered.
Welsey nodded, jolting down some more notes on the notepad though he looked at Wilson on the mention of 'stationed?' "What does it mean to be stationed? Station where?" Wesley asked.
"I have a partner overseas who was able to track him down for us, since he came from the eastern side. Japan." Wilson answered to which pleased Welsey as he jotted down more final notes.
"Alright, sir. Right away. How many do you think we should send? What about with Slico's men? Get them there as well? It will cost a…big fortune to do so." Wesley said, as they both walked to all-black GMC SUV as they sat in the backseat, "But, sir, may I ask why?"
Wilson then took a cigar out, lit it up, "Well since he's dead I might as well tell." He inhaled a few puffs of smoke from the cigar before turning his head to Wesley, "Years before, he was a street-drifter or the type to be going job after job. Even a few that were questionable to many. He was from Japan but he fled from there because he was in debt that was too much since he borrowed money from the Yakuza's as well as various loan places, even then he had a mistress. A woman he had a few nights out. One night of their intimacy moments that led to an intercourse, she got pregnant. Before he left to find more tolerable work, he had seen the child, his child in the year of 1993 in early May, then on he left the two with the hidden amount of money as he left the country and to here, well to Zaun to New York. But now, since he is dead, I would like to keep an eye on his mistress along with his child. I don't or didn't pity them or him, but I would like to make use of them. Is that a problem?"
"No, sir. Not at all." Wesley said. Wilson nodded as most of his men came out of the warehouse with a body that was warped in tape and was now then thrown on to the water with bricks, leaving the body in the deep waters. From there burned down the warehouse to a crisp, leaving not a single trace of evidence.
…
…
…
Pawn Shop, Forest Hills, 6:47 PM…
Going to a shop with a radio, a young teen goes since the shop should be open. As it turns an elderly man in the corner. He saw the teen going to the front desk, giving a welcoming smile, "Hello, my boy. How can I help you, today?"
"Hello, um, my radio kinda sounds too low. As in maybe the, um, speakers blew out? Maybe? My Mom and Dad said you're the cheapest to pay to fix this, right? $10 bucks?"
"Of course, my boy. Here, I'll go take a peak at this. Just only $10 dollars please." The young teen-boy gave a $10 dollar bill. The elderly man takes it to the back, then inspects it, but little did the young-teen boy know that the elderly man was Phineas Mason. The speaker was a bit clogged with dust. As he tore open the radio-speaker, he placed a smallest device, which seemed to be a recorder. Placing a few parts in and there, Mason comes out with the radio in his arm, "Hey you go, young lad. All new! Please enjoy. Don't forget to clean it on a daily basis."
"Oh, I will mister! Thank you!" The young-teen boy said as he happily ran out of the shop. Then Mason darkly chuckles to himself as he goes down to a basement of his hidden workshop. Many humanoid-cyborgs were asleep, a few were up. The amount is unknown but it seemed almost half of Forest Hill's current population.
Mason walks to his desk with 4 monitors, one were to keep vitals of his cyborgs, the second as recordings of people's voices as the purpose is to copy or mimic the tone of voice of the people in these radio's or even cellphones to implant them to his many humanoid-cyborgs, fulling creating a human, the third was to track the ones that are currently out in the city, well, near by Oscorp, the final was surveillance on nearly every part of Oscorp. The location, people, even the area length of the company he had been planning for this year, his crazy intelligence made him able to produce as many cyborgs as possible. The recent bombing as well the raiding done by his creations just even finished up the parts of his plans, "The time and everything has come. Nearly everything I have planned now, it's coming together. I may be old. Aged, yet, I have more of the intellect than anyone else! Even you Osborn and Singed! My legacy!"
Mason goes onto a laugh that echoed throughout the halls, even his shop.
…
…
…
Hell's Kitchen, near Fisk Tower, 11:02 PM…
A van comes in through the back of a large tower, run and owned by Wilson Fisk, though by night in his other persona, The Kingpin. He was, again with Welsey along with their bodyguards armed with weapons, consisting of M16's Assault Rifles, they watched as a van finally parked. A group of Policemen came out of the van, the moles of Police Force under the pay of The Kingpin dragged a man in an orange-prison jumpsuit. They remove a bag off his face, revealing a man in his 30's, with short-buzz cut brown hair and eyes with a goatee. The man took a moment to realize he wasn't in his jail cell but meeting eye to eye with the King of Crime himself, The Kingpin. He went eyewide by this, "H-Holy shit. Hey, I ain't got no quails with any of y'all."
"No need to fear, nor even think we're gonna kill you. That is if you betray us. But knowing you are, Mr. Herman Schulz, then we can be on the same ground." Kingpin said.
The Man or named Herman Schulz nodded as Kingpin gave his hand to Herman, they both shocked hands, "Well, it's, um an honor to say the least. But, can I ask…why am I here?"
"Well despite your…in's and out's of the Police, an anonymous tip from a source had told me that you are good at knowing banks whereabouts, as in schedules, openings and securities. Though your plans are…questionable, yet, you have a knack of knowing bank operations. I trust in your abilities to aid a few bank runs I need, as well as I'm offering you a place. A contract place to kill our running man in a clown costume." The mention of a clown in costume made Herman a bit angry, knowing full well the Kingpin mentioned.
"Yeah! Yeah I know who you are talking about! That goddamn fucking Spider-Kid been on my ass since day one! I had that ONE score I had and he ruined it! Then again and again! I do want to kill that bug!"
"Then it's a deal. I knew you and I had the same goal. He has been a nuance in my operations for sometime. As in, taking my men to jail on every crime they do. A thorn on my side, if you will. I have a Office for you. Equipment or tools you need for your job, Mr. Schulz. If you succeed in taking down Spider-Man, you'll be given $1,000,000 dollars if he's brought dead or if he's alive to talk, I'll make it $20,000,000. This will be no easy task, but having a file, I know you have a way of making a few inventions of your own. Do you think you have something to help kill this Spider-Man?" Kingpin asked, which made Herman smirk, which was a bit cocky yet confident.
"I do. I really do, Mr. Kingpin. I notice that little-freak rely on sticking to walls and shit, shooting webs, I have had this idea to use it against him! Or causing a few shocks to make nigh impossible for him to get closer to me. With the right tools, a few test in's, I can get these shock-gauntlets to help me fight off that Spider-freak. I don't got no degree in engineering and shit but I know what I can work with, I'll make it in due time, sir." Herman said.
Wesley gave a doubtful look, while Wilson or Kingpin gave a nod to his plan. Being pleased Kingpin took Herman to a room filled with tools, equipment, as well as a test room to use for practice, "These are the resources you will need in order for you to do my jobs as well hunting Spider-Man. I have no doubt you can create something to counter this Hero. I'll give you a week or two to finish your invention."
"Oh, don't worry sir, the Shocker will kill the Spider!" The Kingpin nodded again and left, leaving Herman with an endless amount of tools to use. As soon Kingpin and his men left, Herman began to now work on these Shock-Gauntlets, "Hehe, after all these years and times of doing this, I could've been made this but no matter. Once I'll get this shit done, that Spider-punk is done for! Yes! The Shocker will shock the Spider dead!"
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
TO BE CONTINUED!