The Savage Scarlet Spider.
Chapter 1: The Boy in the Battle Vest.
Life is good. At least that's what I think when I wake up every day. Just getting up from my bed to the sun shining in from outside on this beautiful Queens Monday. Arms go up, stretching for the sky, a rush of a yawn sounds from my throat. Shifting aside my haphazard sheets and going over to my dresser, ambling along trying not to be so stiff. I ditch my sleeping shirt off my chest, throwing it towards a growing pile near my hamper. I open one of my drawers, digging for just the right shirt to wear.
Long sleeved because I don't like looking at my right arm. The splotchy burns still scarring it and making me wince every time I look at it. I slide on a nice thrash metal shirt from my Mom's collection. I shimmy it straight and get off my pajama pants, also whipping them towards the hamper, it flutters through the air and misses by a mile. I never was good at that. I get on my pants and belt, my socks on already from last night.
Getting on my white plastic braces, binding the straps and making sure it was all good to go. It's routine at this point. Putting on something like this. Something I'm born with. A knock sounds at my door.
"Come in!" I exclaim, the door moves aside and it's my Dad. Tall, a little bulked up from years out in the sun doing hard labor, rough handed and graying brown hair. A normal contractor for the city, Skyscrapers mostly.
He's wearing his usual t-shirt and jeans, hardhat already in the truck I bet. Everything he needs on his waist in a toolbelt laden with what else but tools.
"Ready to go, kid?" he asks, grinning at me with his dark eyes twinkling. I grab my already packed backpack from the floor by my bed.
"Yep!" I exclaim.
He ruffles my hair and we both head out to the kitchen, grabbing toast and tapping it together. Hugging me with one arm and heading to the truck as I walk to the bus stop. My earphones thunder in some metal.
Metal is one of my favorite genres of music. From Nu to Grunge to Heavy to Ballad. All of them are my favorites and I can't just choose one. It's all amazing! I jam and jive to the stop and end up thrashing to System of a Down. Just going ham.
But soon the honeymoon period of it dies and I'm left going for some weird alternative or folksy stuff, not that it's bad it's just… not as exhilarating. That's something normal guys get to do, go on the football teams and punch each other. I'm lucky enough to stay stable enough to stand. Waiting for the bus is kinda boring. Of course sometimes we don't get to live close to the school or anything like that so of course it'd be boring. I check my phone with a big pair of arms wrapping around my shoulders. Turned to face whoever's got me in a near-headlock. Or whoever's leaning down to look me in the eyes.
Blue eyes meet my dark brown and my best friend laughs and lifts me, "Oogh! That's my best friend!" he yells, "How ya doing, Jack?" He's got buzzed strawberry blond hair and he's built like a brick house.
"Uh, I'm fine, yeah, I'm fine." I say, a smile on my face and earbuds low. He puts me back down gently enough and grins down at me. We've been friends for years so I don't mind him picking me up. He's a big guy on the football team, quarterback.
Eddie Brock and I, two guys fighting for a cause only we know. Two rebels without one as far as we know! The bus comes up the street, the engine rumbling and the door opening right in front of us. He helps me up the steps and I amble up, grabbing the bar and letting Eddie go ahead of me so he can sit on the inside in the first seat with me on the outside.
Just so I can get out easier, he's on his phone.
"So, what's your interest today Eddie?" I peek over at him and he shows me his screen.
"See, look at this." he shows me some pseudoscience article about sciency stuff that my cousin would probably be going gaga over, "Oscorp's been doin' some really cool genetic experiments. Maybe they can figure out how to… ya know, fix people."
Eddie smiles shyly and all I want to do is smack him, "By 'fix' they mean erase guys like me. Unless they can lower chances of preemies and complications to zero, I don't think I'll be outta style."
He laughs, "You're sounding like a fashion trend!"
"Them's the breaks." I shrug and he still nudges me for a little bit just to get my attention. Something he usually does. I peek over at him and he still is scrolling through that article about altered spiders they're using for balance issues and all that. I just stare, knowing that he's just trying to help but if I had the choice I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't change my physical ability for anyone or anything. If I was given the choice, mind you. The bus trundles along and comes to a stop in front of the school with me getting off first.
The hallways are a natural enemy of guys with physical disabilities, well I think it's number five behind Bikes, Bus Steps, Trolley Boarding, and anything having to do with declines and Gravity. It's like a god-ordained rule that you have to eat linoleum at least once a semester. Bad for health and for bones. Eddie however acts as my shield, a big muscly shield. The tide of students jostle him but he still has a smile on his face and a huge warding stance.
I cling to him like a life preserver. Of course I don't have much of a choice in the matter, one breakaway and I'm beaten and battered around. The tide calms and he lets me come out to stand beside him.
I wish he didn't have to do that but ever since we were little he's been that way. I think back to it. Our first meeting as kids. We walk side by side, his big arm engulfing my shoulders and hanging over my chest. Assuring. He looks down at me with a smirk.
"I gotcha, Jack." he pats my chest.
"I know you do." I pat his back and he chuckles. I drift back to the memories.
I hit the ground, lunch skittering out of my hands like a rocket. My Captain America shirt splattered with the school spaghetti. My hands and legs sting with scrapes. I blink back tears as I try to pick up what I could.
"Oh no! What happened, Parker? I thought you could balance!" one of the kids jeers.
"I can! I can, you just pushed me!" I yell, getting surrounded by them and after they're done jostling and throwing things on me it's just a mess. But then just as they were about to beat me up, someone comes to my rescue.
Shielding me from the hits was a bigger kid with blond curly hair and dark blue eyes, staring daggers into all of them, "Get away from him!" he snaps. There's a symbol on his shirt, a spider. It looks homemade and once he chases them off he kneels.
"Hey! Nice shirt!" the boy who'd become my best friend said, "Name's Eddie."
"Jack." I sniffle, "Nice shirt."
"Yep! It's Spider Man!" Eddie exclaims, "You like Cap?"
"Mmhm. He's like me." I state, "Small, skinny… but he's a hero anyway."
"No he isn't, he's big n' muscly on your shirt!" Eddie laughs a little and noogies me.
That first interaction made us lifelong friends. As we both get into Homeroom for the day I stick by his side. Always his shadow and nothing else. Wearing my button festooned vest with the Mothman on the back, red and yellow with pine trees surrounding it.
Eddie and I are inseparable. But sometimes… especially during class rotations and schedules, we're separate. That's when they strike. Who? You may ask. Well, I'll tell you. I can normally smell the muscle, the prissy mean girl looks almost doll-like with all the makeup, and the rich good boy in the middle of them is Harrison Osborn, the pain in the neck.
I dig in my locker for what they're after. Essays, book reports, narratives. I do them all to earn some kinda cash. Is it right? No. Is it a good way to get revenge? Yep. I pull them out and Jaysen, his redheaded highness himself, looms over me.
"You got the essay?" he gets in my face and I hand it over. He paws me a twenty instead of thirty but I take it.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Jay." I bow my head and he moves off for his next class. My petty form of revenge is in motion. The sweet, sweet vengeance drips into my mouth and tastes so good.
Class goes by in an almost blur, just normal things happening, a normal schedule until Lunch. Lunch is when shit really hit the fan.
One of the best things about high school is the fact that you get your lifelong friends. At least that's what Mom says. But I guess Eddie was late today for lunch because I'm being tailed by Harry Osborn, Jaysen Lawrence, and Jaysen's girlfriend. All I know is that Harry's…
"Hey, Parker!" he barks, his snobbish drone screeches through Oildale and I don't bother turning around to face him. Dad's constant line about ignoring them is gonna be put to the test. I rake a hand through my messy brown hair, standing taller and skipping Oildale for Thoughtless.
The cafeteria is nice enough, maybe there's something good to-
That's when it hits me, an old slice of pizza, an apple core, and I think some milk nobody bothered to drink crash into me. Harry walks up behind me and snatches one of my earbuds out of my ear.
"I said hey, Parker. Are you deaf too?" he snarls.
"What's the problem this time, Harry?" he thrusts Jaysen's test into my face and I glare at him. The bad grade smolders on the page almost looking branded in there in red ink. An F. Too bad.
"Look man, you can't keep using me." I sigh, "Upcharges."
Jaysen almost looks like he'd pop my spine with one hit, he's big and muscular and on the football team like Eddie is. His hair is bright red and greased with gel. But before he can bull rush me Harry gets in his way.
"But you're the best at literary analysis! Couldn't you help Jaysen just out of the goodness of your-"
I take a deep breath, trying to keep down the red hot ball of sheer hatred burning in my gut, the fire spreading from there to my hands and feet, my arms tingling as well. Anger at this. In this entire situation.
There are times in life when a fight changes everything. When you get the feeling of someone's face against your fist and you wanna cave them in. You wanna destroy them. The insults I can take, the constant mocking I can take. But the second Harry Osborn threw trash on my head from the big can?
And the little comment about how I was deaf too? Egged on by the vocals of Korn, but this time it wasn't fantasy. This time…
My size 10 Black Vans shoes go right for the family jewels. Hard and fast, almost like a pro Soccer player. He stumbles and I try to tackle him down. But I guess I was overconfident, because his fist goes crashing towards my face. Everything goes dark and screams in pain from my left eye. In seconds, I'm on him, everyone in the cafeteria staring in shock and I keep pummeling him, my bony arms going a mile a minute, all I do is yell.
"You fucker! I'm sick of you! Sick of this! Leave me alone!" My hand digs into his smarmy brown E-Boy haircut and pulls hard, my fist rocketing into his nose, once and twice, a third time! I let go of his hair to use both my hands.
I almost feel like digging my nails into him but he throws me off, with me being smaller and lighter I go flying. Crashing to the linoleum and my buttons on my Battle Vest scatter. I let out a wheezing cry, tasting steel in my mouth. He busted my lip too. Laying there as Jaysen and his girlfriend both help Harry up. Nobody helps me up. Not a single one of them, I push myself back up and pick up my buttons. Ignoring the pain and the shock, the tears came out of my eyes.
I'm going to the nurse. And then the Principal's office. I gather my buttons and adjust my vest. Despite the stinging tears and the throbbing. My smile is shit eating. Fuckin' deserved, bastard.
The ticking of the clock in the Principal's office drives me insane, my eye staring out towards Harry Osborn, who looks pretty banged up himself, all bruised with purple and yellowing skin. Makes him look miles better in my opinion. His hair sticks up in all directions, I kinda pulled on him a little too hard so some of it got torn out. He's holding his nose as still as he can.
I got a black eye myself, and my battle vest lost a few buttons, I smirk at the satisfaction of kicking Harry in the balls. I press the ice to my eye, the shifting of it breaking the silence. He glares at me.
"You don't know the hell you've unleashed, Parker!" he snarls.
"Oh yeah? I just think you're mad 'cause a Special Needs kid like me kicked your ass." I clack my braces together and lean back in the stiff chair, why couldn't the school just keep me away from this guy?
Dude practically KNOWS how to piss me off and does it because he wants to. I bet that's why he does it. He's always so smug and so superior just like his smarmy jackass dad. The office is quiet, the secretary going about her business as we hear the verbal carnage coming from inside the principal's office.
Lord knows my Dad's doing all he can to stave off the father of the guy who beat him up. Harry and I look at each other again as the clock keeps ticking away. The noise of our dads talking is getting louder, apparently because of something my dad said. I look down at myself knowing that I'm in for a five hour long lecture from Dad and a worried Mom once she comes home. I suck in a breath through my teeth when my eye throbs, the pain is dull and I press the ice back to my eye.
The door surges aside and storming out is Harry's Dad in a very orderly suit and almost looking at his son like he stabbed me rather than just punch my eye closed. Norman Osborn is reedy, like he never really ate much in his life and his hair is short and combed back away from his face. His blue eyes burn into Harry as he gets to his feet. But his stance is relaxed, almost assured and like he knows he has all the power in the world at his fingertips. All he has to do is snap them and bam, he gets anything he wants. Not like Dad who stands like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Norman's dangerous lips part and there's almost perfect white teeth with a gap in the middle, not too bad but still. Why is he smiling? Didn't he want to yell at me too? Or did he just not care about me going after his son's jewels?
"Harrison, don't you have something to say?" his voice is like a sharpening knife and Harry turns to me, almost a terrified glint in his own blue eyes. I cross my arms and look up at him, almost catching the gulp as he speaks.
"I… I… I'm sorry," he offers with a weak smile, "I won't bother you again." he gives me a pointed glare, not meaning a single word. Of course he doesn't, that's why he fucks around with me. He looks towards his father who is crossing over to me.
He puts his thin hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry for what my son did to you, Jack." he pats it and I almost want to hit him too but I'm gonna swallow this down. I don't wanna say it was okay at all.
"Hey, don't make any bones about it." I answer, knowing that even if I tried, Harry would probably make my life even more of a hell even with my disability. They both leave and Dad comes over to me.
His warm dark eyes are full of disappointment, "Jack. You know what you did was…" he stops at my clenching of fists. Rage is still bubbling from deep inside. More than just deep. It's an old anger from years of guys like Harry and people like Norman holding us down.
"Dad, I've had it up to here with guys like the Osborns." I admit, "I tried keeping quiet, I've tried that. But he crossed a damn line expecting me to keep on helping with his dumbass friend."
"Jack…"
"No, dad. Norman pushes you and the guys around. I'm not gonna stand for being terrorized anymore by Daddy's Little Boy!" I stand still shaking, wobbling with rage. Dad wraps his arm around my shoulders and guides me away from the front desk after signing me out.
Silence except from my footsteps and his, cloptocking and echoing together. Ice on my eye and his arm still secure around me. He and I get into his truck and I shut the door, my bag between my legs.
He glances at me, hands on the wheel, finger tracing the hard surface. The smell of the tools and rust, the smell of diesel. It's all comforting. He starts it and we rumble into the streets. He sighs. In these moments, he slumps. His older face shows his age. Wrinkles and smile lines mar his face. He rubs his eyes and almost taps his wheel in frustration. The inside of the truck close and small. The cab is not very roomy.
"Look." he says, "It's not that I don't appreciate it, but what if he hurt you even more?"
"Then I'd want him to try. I want to see him try." I look out the window at the traffic going by, Dad's sigh shooting bullets into my chest. Almost like it really did hurt him that I got into a fight. Maybe I should've held it in again?
"Buddy, I expect more from you," he turns back towards home, "You… shit, you get good grades and all that, you were going to Oscorp later on this week, you love that kinda tech stuff."
"No I don't, Dad." I slide up my sleeve, "I…"
Dad puts his hand on my shoulder and I don't want to brush it off. He gently traces the scars,
"Son, you loved it so much. I know what happened was shitty and I wish he'd handled it better but…"
"You're just saying that so I can use computers as a reason to go into that field." my hands clench into fists, "Dad, I get that you want me to succeed but the thing is… the thing…" tears sting my eyes.
"I don't know what I want." there's a hitch in my voice, my motions too. Everything kind of fades into a blur. He blinks and tries to find the words to say. His mouth works, his eyes scanning the road, then me, then back to the road.
Sitting in near awkward silence we ride home. The music playing is Don't Give Up by Peter Gabriel. An encouraging but sort of strange song. The idea of the song is that the singer lost a fight and changed everything about him because he lost. Of all the songs that could define my life at this moment it was this one. But the empty noise on the outside, the din of the city and the cold air just kiss me and tell me it's okay. Keep taking your licks and keep marching on. Once we get back home, Dad doesn't bother talking to me.
I guess I ruined more than enough. I go into my room and take out what I got for homework already. Working on it until I hear the door open. Mom's home and she lets out a sigh. I scuttle to the door and peek out.
"Hey, May…" Dad hugs her and kisses her on the forehead, "Jack got into a fight today."
"What?!" Mom gasps, running straight over to the stairs and up towards my room, her coat billowing as she sends my door flying aside, brown hair tied back from her face and eyes wide, hands immediately grabbing me and yanking me close.
"Oh my baby!" she wails, "You got hurt!"
"Yeah, yeah, I know…" I look down at myself, "But he started it."
In moments she pushes me off, the scrubs pulling away and she studies my face. I'm sitting back down on my bed after the rush Mom made to go into full Mama Bear mode.
"Didja get him good, sweetie?" Mom asks, checking my face and arms. The bruises smart a little but other than that I stay strong, Mom's brown eyes full of pride. I get a little bolder in sitting, sitting up and beginning to get snappy.
"Uh, I kicked him in the balls, almost broke his nose, pulled some of his hair out…" I list on my fingers, "I think I'd go for another nutshot."
Mom chuckles and Dad glares at her, "May, don't encourage him!"
"What? You know I got up to the same stuff! Jack was just defending himself, didn't they throw trash at him?"
I didn't answer but Dad still stands his ground, "We raised him to be better than this, May…" he looks at me with an almost apologetic glint in his eyes. Of course the punishment hits but I don't really care. Not going to Oscorp sounds like a dream come true to me.
But then I realize that Eddie's gonna be on his own. Not that I can't leave him alone, it's the fact that he's going to be alone without me there that bugs me because I know Osborn would have Lawrence try something with me there or not.
It's me and him against the world, right? It's not right that I get punished for something that rich asshole started! I get up and storm out, my earphones in. Cranking up Twisted Transistor and raging out. Just wanting it all to disappear. Shoving past my parents and almost running downstairs, I throw aside the door and step out into the hallway, still burning with rage.
"Jack? Jack!" Dad yells after me, "Get back here!"
Walking down the street, frustration making my steps harder and my music making things more and more drowned out by Korn and System and Metallica. My fists flying, my feet stomping in a random alleyway across town. I don't care, I thrash because it gives me some kinda release other than screaming into my pillow. Or beating the shit out of it. All I want is to change this scenario. This sick, twisted scenario being pushed around just because of the braces on my legs. Just because of being me.
I want this all to change! I punch a trash bag, kick a can, I want it all to change! Swinging more and more, hearing banana terracotta pie and remembering why exactly Eddie wanted me to come to Oscorp too. Because he just wanted to help. He wanted me to see the Spiders. He wanted me to change my future and if I continue letting people like Harry push me around then I already lost it. I kick the bag a few more times before…
Something lands on my hand. Crawling there is a red and black spider. Before I could swat it, it bites down hard, pain shooting through my body and rushing through my brain. It's almost like I got shot in the head. Stumbling back home, my hands hurt, my wrists, every inch of me aches and burns. Every step is like knives stabbing into my feet. But I keep walking. I keep going because I gotta get home. I gotta get back before Mom and Dad worry about me too much.
I teeter and totter, trying to keep me from getting home. My hands stick slightly to the wall, making me scrape out some of the plastercuts in the brick. I ignore it, sweating and finally turning back on our street. I'm home! I'm safe! I'm… I'm good! The stoop door crashes in and I amble to the elevator, cracking the button and mooring as it slides down to collect me. I fall into it and break the button for our floor too. Going up and up, and my stomach lurches, turns somersaults. I fucking hate this.
What's happening to me? When I asked for change I didn't mean it literally! God, what's happening?!
My hands push open the door to our apartment, my arms burning and my head almost pulses like the heaviest bass guitar is strumming. Mom left back for work and Dad is probably out looking for me. Dragging myself through the doorway and pawing the door to pull it back closed. It just barely does. Shaking and barely staying on my feet sweating bullets and vertigo making my vision zoom in and whirl.
Up the stairs I go and I hold on to the rail like a lifeline, my legs aching like crazy just trying to move. My muscles pull stiff and I lurch myself through my door, pulling it shut behind me but before I could lie down my limbs go limp.
Blistering pain rockets through my system, the feeling spreads through my entire body. My entire head has that kinda ringing feeling you get after you listen to something really loud but it's through my head. Heat rises from my body and I at least try to drag myself with my arms but they stalled out too. All I can do is lie on my floor and hope that this is all gonna be over soon.
My eyes are so, so heavy. I can barely… barely lift my… head. Making a grab for my blanket, I miss and crash onto the floor in a heap. Everything burning, everything hurting, every breath feeling like I'm breathing needles. Hot, stabbing, my head ringing, my arms and legs hurting and stretching. Every muscle loosening and contracting in a mad repetition.
I pass out.
Norman Osborn wipes his mouth. The sweat running down his forehead as he stares at the security cameras, one of his spiders went missing. One of them. Out of fifteen. Was it let out intentionally? Was there someone who hacked into the locking mechanisms?
He cycles through the cameras once, twice, three times. Still not seeing anything. Was it a loop? A malfunction? How could it have-
One of the kids broke off from the tour group, a kid in a black hoodie, not someone his son knew. He tried to zoom in but either they were really good or they knew they were being watched. There was that Brock boy from earlier that was being smarmy, he'd deal with him later.
But this… this was something that couldn't have been random. It had to have been planned. And one of the kids at his son's school had to be patient zero for this… Spider Bite. Yes, that's what he'd call it. The search for the kid bit by the Spider. It was 0014, the one that was for less intensive patients.
Or just their most volatile one yet.
Whatever is coming it can't be good.