Kay, so I'm trying to get these chapters up as quickly as I can because I've been horrible about that previously.. I'm sorry! But please please read and review! I need some confirmation that you like what I put down! Hahahaha, well anyway, here's chapter six!
And I do not own The Amazing Spiderman. Boo.
Peter Parker, or Spiderman, ducks quickly as the man pulls the trigger, previously aiming for the masked heroe's head. He rolls and then jumps up, his hands finding the brick wall and sticking. His feet follow and soon he is a good thirty feet above the jerk with the handgun. He looks down and connects his fingertips with his web-shooter, directing the sticky strings at the gun in the blonde man's hand. The web wraps around it and within seconds Spidey has it and smashes it against the cruel wall.
"Aw, come on," the guy yells loudly from below, and Peter twists his head back around.
"Oh, uh-sorry, did you need that? I guess the polite thing would've been to let you keep trying to shoot me," Peter says back. "But I never was too big on manners." Peter jumps back down and encases the guy with web, attaching him to the massive trashcan. He then takes the phone out of the man's pocket and dials 911, telling the woman on the phone the street to find blondie. "See ya later, man," He says sarcastically, leaping on top of the rancid-smelling trashcan.
It had been a fairly quiet night in comparison to most, leaving Peter leaning up against a low fire-escape rail, smoke and darkness lurking about him. Pipes steamed loudly and the flashing lights of the city distracted him from his mind.
"Listen to me Peter. I'm sorry if I put too many things on your shoulders, son, and I know being a teenager in your sort of situation must be something that one can't simply describe." Peter's head buzzed with voices of concern and guilt and dissapointment. "What do you do Peter? Where do you go?" He shakes his head, trying to make Aunt May's sad questions fade away. "I'm sorry Peter, but I can't take it anymore. Those things you fight-those mosters, one day they'll kill me. And I just can't take it anymore." His head hangs low, the crying and sorrow clouding his mind.
A black flash moves in the corner of the alley, and the mist around Peter still seems heavy and thick, like its slowly wrapping around his body and squeezing. "You have been given a great amount of responsibility Peter, and you must know that it will not be easy." Peter's muscles jerk as the fog comes closer. A sharp clang sounds to his far right, and the steam floats around him. Another flash of black appears closer to him, and he shifts. "Where do you go?" A body flips off the rail high above him and lands gracefully on its feet, its face inches from Peter's. His hand shoots out, trying to get a grip on the sudden figure lurking so near to him. The body quickly moves, and Peter somehow finds himself with his wrists pressed up against the wall and his back completely pushed back.
He wrenches his arms away and swings, still trying to get a grasp on reality. But the alley is totally dark except a few flashes of light from the street. Something wraps around his neck and pulls him to the ground, his back flat on the grainy asphalt. He feels a pair of legs push his own down hard and gloved hands pin his arms above his head. His head feels blurry from the movement and the potential danger to him begins to register in his foggy mind. He feels a light breath on his face and mouth, and a jolt of something courses through his body.
He feels his eyes adjust slightly to the strange darkness and he looks up. The body hovering above him is clothed in all black, and the lights from the road shine onto it, making it reflect some of the pale light. Peter can automatically tell the body is feminine because of its slim, curved build. The woman's face is masked and Peter can't make out her eyes. Her head looks covered with some sort of bandana or black hood or something, and Peter tries to throw it off of him.
He suddenly feels a little pain meet his chest, and his teeth clench together. He feels two fingers run down his suit and meet, forming some sort of symbol below his collar bone. The burning stops and he hears the body shift a little until it is by his ear. "Better watch your back Spider," It whispers into his ear and he feels the hair on his arms stand up slightly. The woman moves until its lips are only a few milimeters from Peter's, and he can feel her breath meet his neck. Peter's blood begins to pump quickly as the lips move even closer, but the woman starts to chuckle lowly, as if she were only trying to tease him, and suddenly, she is gone.
...
Peter shudders as the cold shower water pounds on his back. He rubs his eyes tiredly, his body sore and worn from the last night's occurances. He had stumbled almost blindly back to Aunt May's apartment, and climbed through his tiny window. After ripping off his damaged suit, he had ran for the mirror, looking for the burn the black-clothed woman had left him with. He wasn't even sure if she had been real, surely it could've been some creation of his imagination.
But when he looked, a pale V was dug into his skin. He had touched the mark over and over, and by the time he had woken up again, it had vanished.
I just dreamt it up. I probably fell asleep and dreamt it all up. But he really only half-convinces himself. He smirks a little as he grabs the orange juice out of the fridge, the little kitchen tele ision playing softly. Was a pretty good dream though.
He turns and sets his glass down, about to pour some juice in the cup. But something on the TV captures his attention.
"Several eye-witnesses have reported seeing a masked figure in black doing acts of heroism around the city," the news castor reads off the papers placed in front of him. "The figure has been described as female, moderately tall, and leaves behind some sort of signature at the scenes of her alleged rescues and servises. It has been said to resemble the letter 'V'. More information on the this masked heroin will come as the story progresses." The reporter smiles at his partner, "Looks like Spiderman might have a run for his money," the man laughs, and Peter spills the orange juice.
Review! Pllleeease! They made it so easy, so simple. Just scroll a little and type a little message! That's all ya have to do! Just do it. Hehehe-Kiki