Downtown Manhattan, Christmas Eve Party, Romita Lounge, 1 AM

The bass from the sound system boomed in his ears. Drunk women danced around, twisting their hips and dancing to the beat. One pressed her ass against his crotch and tried her hand at twerking. Lights flashed around the room like somebody was throwing glow in the dark crayons back in forth. The building smelled of sweat, weed and liquor. The floor was sticky in some places and slippery from the spilled drinks in others. The young man took in a deep breath and smiled as the girl in front of him finished her dance and was snatched away by another drunk man eager for his turn. Harry Osborn was in heaven.

The fall semester had ended after his last final exam earlier during the week and he felt confident that he had passed with flying colors. Now, he no longer had to care about his grades or due dates for essays. He had only one purpose during these next few weeks he had out of school. He was going to drink until he could barely stand...and he was closer to realizing that ambition than he realized.

The next song the DJ played caused the entire club to go absolutely crazy. The hip hop fans in the crowd began to dance and Harry stood back, drunk and smiling. The flashing lights and booming music only added to the euphoria he felt as he slowly felt himself ease onto the couch in the VIP section of the nightclub. Beside him, his designated driver, Eddie Brock enjoyed a lap dance. As the girl rose up, Eddie held her hand and winked at her. The girl giggled and walked away and Eddie looked over to Harry.

"Harry! My dude! This a great end of the semester or what?!" The big blonde yelled. Harry smiled.

"Yeah, the fucking best!" he shouted back. He took another shot of the ciroc in front of him and burped. Eddie stared at him and shook his head. Harry blinked and bobbed his head up and down as he felt himself start to feel the beat. With the courage that could only come from alcohol consumption, Harry stood up and began to dance, dropping and shaking his shoulders and shuffling his feet. Behind him, he could hear Eddie laughing so hard that he started to choke on his own saliva. Harry didn't care. He was enjoying himself.

"Great moves, Harry!" a female voice yelled out. Harry's eyes went over to the direction of the voice and his eyes set on caramel skinned beauty that was Lily Hollister. His gaze traced down her body, drawing an outline and mentally stripping her. He didn't have to imagine too much. In the short, tight dress she wore now, she was basically showing everything Harry wanted.

"Thanks!" Harry said as he wandered towards her, grabbing another cup of liquor. Lily smiled and took the cup, gulping it down quickly and exhaling as it hit her chest. Harry smiled at her and she returned. He glanced over his shoulder at Eddie and the young man gave him a thumbs up. Harry grinned and turned around to face the goddess in front of him.

"What?" Lily asked. Red and blue lights flashed over her body and for a second, Harry thought that the police had shown up. Damn, he was drunk.

"I was just wondering if you'd like to come to my car. For some privacy." Harry said. Lily Hollister smiled coyly and seductively.

"Privacy, Mr. Osborn?" she asked. Harry nodded quickly and smirked.

"We'll need it."

The next few minutes were a literal drunken blur. One minute, Harry and Lily were slipping past the bouncers. In the next, Lily straddled Harry's lap on the back seat of his Camaro, kissing down his neck feverishly while Harry enjoyed every minute. His hands slid down Lily's side, pulling her dress up over her waist. Lily stopped working on Harry's neck and her lips found his. The windows of the car were starting fog, Harry noticed. The kiss between Lily and Harry lasted only moments before Lily paused and looked down at the drunk Osborn.

"You have a condom?" she asked. Harry stared at her blankly before his brain registered her words. He then nodded quickly, causing him to become slightly nauseous and lightheaded.

"Y-yeah...my pocket." He said as he reached into his wallet and fumbled around inside for a condom. Trying to find the golden wrapper was proving hard in the darkness. Finally, Harry found the elusive condom and smiled stupidly as he pulled it out. Lily Hollister smirked back at them and the two started to kiss again. However, once they did, the strangest thing seemed to happen.

Despite the two of them moving around in the back seat of the car, Harry hadn't ever noticed that they were shaking it. Not until now at least. Even Lily seemed to be a bit startled by was happening. Her eyes widened like she saw a monster and she covered her mouth in terror as she screamed. The sound was dead to Harry. The entire world seemed to slow down as broken shards of glass fell into Harry's lap as Lily Hollister fell off of him. The back end of the car lifted in the air and Harry flew forward until his face smacked against the dashboard. Groaning, he turned his head and stared. Something had lifted his car off the ground. Whatever it was growled and snarled. Harry thought he heard it speaking. Gibberish, he thought. Until he actually listened.

"Attack the heart. Attack the heart. Attack the heart." the voice chanted its mantra in a guttural tone. Harry froze as he remembered he had heard this voice before. It sounded just like...

"HARRY!" Lily screamed as the Camaro flew forward. Harry stared back through his rear windshield, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever had thrown his car. All he saw were two glowing golden eyes and a large shadowy figure that turned and leapt away as the Camaro crashed into the side of the club and Harry's head bounced against the passenger window...

Empire State Hospital, Waiting Area, 10 AM

Peter didn't know how the hell he was supposed to feel. On one hand, he had completely aced his last three finals a few days ago, finishing even the extra credit that was offered. On the other hand, Harry Osborn had just landed himself in the hospital after having crashed his car in the side of a nightclub. Even based on Harry's standards, that sounded absolutely reckless and crazy. Peter wondered how many drinks it had taken Harry to figure that driving his car with a passenger on the inside into a building was a perfectly sane idea that anyone would do.

Next to Peter, Mary Jane shook her head and sighed. "I hope Harry's okay..." she said softly. "I know he'd hate to be in the hospital on Christmas." she said.

Peter nodded. Harry's mother had died a long time ago. The only person Harry had left in his family was his father and from what Peter remembered from the last time he and Harry had had a heart to heart talk, the two of them really didn't see eye to eye. Peter honestly didn't think Harry cared about being around his father for Christmas.

"It's probably the best place for him. He had to be ridiculously drunk to think that going full speed into a building was smart." Peter said. Mary Jane rubbed Peter's arm and Peter sighed. "I'm just anxious to see him. I was supposed to go before we got out for break, but I forgot." Peter said. Mary Jane kissed his cheek and hugged him.

"Peter, don't be worried. I'm sure Harry's okay." she cooed softly into Peter's ear. Peter listened and supposed that he should've agreed to Mary Jane's consolation, but he was still worried. Harry was the closest thing he had to a best friend and even though the two hadn't seen each other in months, he still felt that bond. Peter wouldn't be settled until he saw Harry for himself.

A man in a light blue lab coat entered the waiting room and Peter rose up quickly to meet him with MJ following. Peter tried desperately to reel in his emotions as he felt words spill out of his mouth.

"Doctor? How's Harry? Is he alright? Is he alive?" Peter asked. Mary Jane came to Peter's side, rubbing his arm. Peter glanced down at her and then sighed. "I'm sorry." Peter said. The doctor smiled lightly and nodded his understanding.

"It's alright. Fortunately, I have good news. Mr. Osborn is alive." the doctor said. "However, he didn't make it out unscathed. Due to blunt trauma suffered during the accident, Mr. Osborn has a concussion, broken nose, fractured sternum, broken ribs and minor internal hemorrhaging."

"What the hell is minor internal hemorrhaging?" Peter asked. To the doctor's credit, he weathered Peter's irritated question.

"The bleeding in Mr. Osborn's stomach stopped on its own, making it minor. Otherwise, I'd likely be giving you a very different report." the doctor said. Peter opened his mouth to ask another question about Harry but MJ spoke ahead of him.

"What about the girl in the car, the passenger? Is she okay?" Mary Jane asked. Peter wanted to smack his forehead. He hadn't even given a thought about the passenger's well-being. The doctor maintained his polite smile.

"She's sitting in the room with Mr. Osborn and is actually doing fine. A few bruises and a broken wrist but she's very alive. Miraculous, considering." the doctor said. MJ nodded and Peter sighed.

"Can we see h...them?" Peter asked.

"Follow me, he's back through ER." he called over his shoulder. The young couple followed the doctor through Intensive Care. Peter heard the cries of pain coming from behind the curtains and closed doors. The very thought of their suffering made Peter feel slightly downcast. He wished he could help these people, heal them. But that was outside of his power set.

Peter and Mary Jane waited while the doctor opened the door and peeked inside. He then stepped back and allowed Peter and MJ to enter the room. When the couple entered, they were met by a pretty caramel skinned girl with blonde and dark brown hair. She had a bandage on her forehead that barely subtracted from her beauty. Peter's eyes went from the girl to Harry's unconscious body laying in the hospital bed. His head was wrapped with bloody cloth and he laid stiffly in his bed.

"Who are you?" the girl asked. Mary Jane stepped forward to speak.

"Hey, I'm Mary and this is Peter." she said, pointing to Peter. "We're friends of Harry's." Mary Jane said. The girl folded her arms and looked the couple up and down.

"You look a little young to be friends of Harry's..." she said.

"Well..." Mary Jane said, looking over to Peter. Her gaze was a clear call for help and Peter couldn't help but answer it.

"Actually, Harry's like an older brother to me. I helped him some when he was in high school." Peter said. The girl nodded and Peter proceeded with the conversation while Mary Jane went to Harry's bedside. "So," Peter said. "What's your name?"

"Lily." the girl answered.

"Ok." Peter forgot how hard it was to talk to pretty females he was just meeting. "Uh, how do you know Harry?" Lily sighed.

"Jesus, are we playing 21 Questions or something?" she asked in an irked tone. Mary Jane's head turned sharply to eye Lily and Peter felt like he was caught in the middle of a nuclear explosion. Lily caught MJ's glare and it seemed to be enough to snap her rude behavior. Peter wondered why no one feared Spider-Man as much as they seemed to fear his girlfriend...

"I wasn't trying to interrogate you. Just making conversation..." Peter said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Lily said, shaking her head. "Shit's just a little crazy for me right now." She then looked outside the room and then back at Peter. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "This wasn't a car accident." she said. Peter frowned and Mary Jane looked over towards them.

"What do you mean...?" Peter asked. Mary Jane narrowed her eyes.

"How is somebody driving their car into the side of a building not an accident? Did Harry do it on purpose?" Lily shook her head and bit her lip.

"No, Harry wasn't even in the driver's seat when it happened. Neither was I. We were..." Lily said, trailing off. The rest immediately clicked in Peter's head. She was Harry's girlfriend...or fuck buddy by the way she shied away from answering any questions about how she knew Harry. Peter and Mary Jane exchanged glances. MJ twisted her lips and raised an eyebrow as if she were asking Peter if he had any extra girls in his life. Smartly, Peter continued the conversation with Lily.

"Ok, I can fill in the blanks." Peter said. He folded his arms. "But what I need to know is how Harry's car ended up in the side of the club." Peter asked. Lily frowned.

"Why do you do you care so much? What are you going to do?" she asked.

Find out what the hell exactly is going on in this city. "I'm just concerned. Harry's basically my best friend. If this wasn't an accident, I need to know." Peter said. He looked into Lily's eyes and the girl looked away.

"This is going to sound crazy and you probably won't believe me...but something picked up the car and threw it." Lily said.

"What?" Peter replied. Lily raised a hand.

"I know, I know. It sounds like I'm tripping but I'm not lying. Something big picked up the car and threw it." she said. Peter rubbed his chin.

"Can you describe it in any more depth? Anything else notable about this thing that threw the car?" Peter asked. Lily looked up as if she was trying to recall, only to rub her head a little later.

"Shit, I don't know. It was big, had claws and..." Lily looked up like something clicked in her brain. "Bright golden eyes. I couldn't tell what color the thing was but I know it had bright golden eyes. It scared the fuck out of me." she said. Peter looked over at Mary Jane and she looked equally skeptical and frightened. Peter looked back at Lily and nodded.

"Thank you." he said as he walked over to Harry's bed. "When he wakes up...can you tell him we came to see about him?" Peter asked. Lily nodded.

"Of course. It'll probably make him happy." she said. Peter smirked.

"That and whatever drugs they give him." he said. Peter and Mary Jane left Lily alone with Harry and headed towards the hospital entrance. Mary Jane leaned on Peter's shoulder and held his arm tightly. Her touch and body were a welcome feeling as the frigid morning weather hit them.

"So what do you think about her story?" Mary Jane asked as they walked down the street. "Have any ideas as to what could've done that to Harry?" Peter thought on Lily's description of what she saw. She had placed a clear emphasis on this thing being big. She also mentioned it having claws and golden eyes. Peter had only encountered one thing that could match that description...

"Connors." Peter said. When MJ looked up at him, he continued. "When I beat him, I kind of...revealed who I was to him. With his military background, he could've tracked down who I knew and started aiming for them." Peter explained. "But..."

"But?" MJ echoed.

"He got locked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. I seriously doubt he'd come straight for me if he managed to escape nor could he survive in these conditions in his reptile form." Peter said. A gust of wind caused MJ to grab her head and hold her hat on.

"That doesn't necessarily rule him out, does it? Maybe his body adapted somehow?" she asked as she situated her hat again. Peter shook his head.

"Maybe...but like I said, I don't think he'd actively seek me out and try to hurt my loved ones. Connors was basically a mad dog pointed...at me." Peter froze in his tracks as his brain began to work. Mary Jane looked at him.

"Peter..." she said softly.

"I have an idea about who did this...and it's probably the same person that sent Connors after me. There's no way it isn't. Connors failed so either this another thing being sent after me or this a hands on operation. Whoever this is, they know who my loved ones are. They're attacking my heart first." Peter said. Mary Jane looked at Peter and covered her mouth.

"W-what do we do?" she asked. Peter shook his head.

"I don't know...but I have to go out in costume tonight. Just to sweep through and investigate things. I just need you to stay home with Aunt Mae and make sure you two stay safe." Peter said. Mary Jane scoffed.

"And what do I do against a giant monster?" she asked. Peter smiled and kissed her soft lips.

"Just shoot him one of your death glares. I'm pretty sure he'll leave you alone."

FiskTech Headquarters, Head Office

As he looked down at the bag filled with the rancid smell of decaying flesh before him, Richard Fisk realized that needed to start taking crazed people seriously when they promise to "bring him heads". He hadn't yet decided what he wanted to do with the heads of the Hand members so they just sat in the middle of the floor while Richard stared at them. There was open bottle of brandy sitting on the right corner of Richard's desk and he swirled a glass in his hand, the ice jingling against the inside of the vessel.

Richard Fisk had read about vicious rulers and how they handled any attempts to take away their power. He had studied their methods and their works and adapted them to modern conventions. But what he had agreed to had greatly vexed him. Fisk had had no qualms about killing the Enforcers for leaving his father to be captured by the authorities or killing Frederick Foswell and his people for snitching and setting his father up. He didn't even care about the brutal manner in which he had dispatched of the Hand, via Nogg. But threatening innocents...

Granted, Fisk recognized that his opponent was a potential problem. Spider-Man had refused to work for or with him while Nogg had wholeheartedly agreed to do his bidding in exchange for the favor that Fisk had agreed to. But Nogg's plan troubled Fisk. He had initially hoped that by doing this, he'd be able to persuade Spider-Man to join his side, but Nogg's intentions were clear. He wanted to break Spider-Man's spirit and then kill him when he was finished.

Richard took a sip of his brandy and sighed softly. This was going to be one bloody Christmas.

Brooklyn, New York City, 8 PM

Street thugs never ceased to amaze Peter. Here he was, standing in yet another snow-filled alley with a large group of goons in front of him. As gelid as the winter weather was and the fact that it was fricking Christmas Eve, gang bangers still wanted to have squabbles over territory and fight. Peter actually had half a mind to just let them go ahead and beat each other up for him, but he couldn't really claim the title of "superhero" if he took that plan of action. Besides, he hadn't dropped off any pictures to the Bugle in days and he and his aunt were definitely hurting for cash. So instead of stand by and enjoy the violent show, Peter webbed his camera to the wall and jumped into the middle of the arguing gang members. When they saw him, there were two general exclamations.

"Shit, it's the Spider-Man!"

"Who the hell called this clown?"

Peter raised his hands and sighed as he looked between the two large groups. "Look, guys. Seriously...it's Christmas Eve. Can't this fight you're having wait until like the 26th?" he then rubbed his chin. "Well, wait...that's a Sunday. But still!" The gang members all scoffed and one loud and brave individual from the back spoke up.

"Would somebody shoot this pajama onesie wearing piece of shit! It's fucking cold." The remark incited some laughter so Peter turned into the direction that the voice came from and sighed.

"Alright, alright...will the brave jackass that wants to see me shot please step forward!" he shouted. Within a few moments, one side of the gang parted and a large man in a burgundy and gold coat stepped forward. Peter whistled as he saw him. "So, what's your name, Tiny?" The large man cracked his neck.

"Herman." he said. The confidence in his voice as he uttered the name "Herman" almost made Peter laugh. He stifled his giggle.

"Wow. Herman...that's a shocker. I was expecting you to use some kind of street name but you use your real name...which is 'Herman'?" The huge man seethed as he approached Peter, towering over him.

"Yeah, and I'm the toughest sumbitch around here." Schultz growled. Peter nodded.

"Is that right?" he said. He then looked around at the gang members. "Is it the common consensus that Mr. Herman here is the toughest out of you all?" When the bangers stared at him confused, Peter sighed. "Does everyone here agree that Herman is the toughest out of all of you?" he said. The gang members begrudgingly nodded as a grin showed on Herman's face.

"See, little man? They all agree." Herman said. Peter waved his hand.

"Yeah, yeah." he said. "Alright, look." Peter addressed the two opposing gangs. "I'll make this very simple. If I knock this guy out with one finger, I want all of you to please just go home. It's supposed to be a peaceful weekend and I'd rather not spend my Christmas chasing street thugs." he then glanced over at Schultz and back to the gangs. "Do we have a deal?" he asked. The gang members all snickered.

"Yeah, sure, freak." they said. As soon as those words left their mouths, Peter's head vibrated. His hand flew up and he caught Herman's fist in midair. The big man looked at him, shocked.

"Dude...I'm Spider-Man. Reflexes of a spider. Spider sense. And..." Peter jabbed his finger into Herman's forehead, snapping his head back and causing his entire body to give out. Peter dusted off his hands and looked at the gang members. "Spider strength."

He paused as the bangers looked at Herman's fallen body. "Does anyone else object to this arrangement? No crime until after Christmas, please. If you can manage it. Otherwise, you'll end up like Mr. Herman and possibly sharing a jail cell with a rapist. Are we clear?"

The gang members looked around at each other and a couple of them nodded. They must've been the leaders. Their word would have to suffice for now. Peter didn't have much time before the Bugle would be closing. Peter left the center of the gang cluster, webbed his camera into his hand and headed straight for Manhattan. He landed on a rooftop and looked over the numerous pictures he had gathered over the past few hours.

Some featured him pulling a man out of a car that lost control on the icy streets, helping to save an older woman from an exploding heater that resulted in a gas fire in her home, and a shot of him waving at a group of children. All of these images would get some twisted backstory from Jameson that would paint Peter in a negative light. It annoyed him at best and genuinely pissed him off at the worst but he was desperate. He needed the money just as much as he needed answers to his major questions.

Peter swung from the rooftop and through the streets below as he propelled himself upward. Earlier with Mary Jane, he had basically ruled out Curt Connors as the man behind the attack on Harry. His lizard form wouldn't be able to manage any kind of strenuous activity in this weather. Plus, attacking Harry in what seemed to be a very calculated move wouldn't make sense for a creature that ran on base primeval instinct.

But who could've done it?

Peter had a general idea of who may have hurt Harry. It had to be whoever made Connors into the monster he was. But Peter didn't know who that was. Whoever that person or group was, Peter had the sinking suspicion that everything that was happening went far beyond Connors and the attack on Harry. Whoever did this had been gunning for Peter ever since he turned sixteen, perhaps even longer. This person had killed Uncle Ben and it was probably the person that had attempted to kill his father when Peter was still in his mother's womb.

The very thought that someone had and probably was stalking him and his loved ones made Peter almost want to vomit. It was more than he could bear to let run through his brain. His life, watched. His family, watched. Everything about him analyzed and processed for one purpose...to destroy him. Peter couldn't shake it from his head, even as he landed a block away from the Flatiron Building and changed into street clothes. As he leapt down into an alley before running into the building, he caught his facial expression in the glass. He looked mortified. Peter shook his head and attempted to calm himself before seeing Jameson. He didn't want any of his fear or frustration to appear to be aimed at the man that basically allowed him to support his aunt.

As the doors to the elevator slid open, Peter saw that most of the Daily Bugle staff had headed home. Peter saw Betty sitting outside of Jameson's office, furiously typing away as if she were rushing to get home. Inside of Jameson's office, Peter saw Jameson and Robertson talking. Peter let out a sigh of relief. From what he had gathered, Robertson was a reasonable man that had taken a liking to Spider-Man. Hopefully, he'd help him smooth things over with Jameson quickly.

Peter walked down towards Betty's desk and she looked up and smiled when she saw him.

"Hey, kiddo. Haven't seen you here all week." she said. Peter returned her smile.

"Yeah, well, you know...midterms and what not. My aunt wouldn't let me leave the house until I could quote my textbooks from front to back." Peter said. Betty laughed.

"Feeling a little hyperbolic?" she asked. Peter shook his head.

"No, seriously. She made me quote my textbooks. Do you know how hard it is to quote a McGraw-Hill textbook you have no interest in?" Peter said, shuddering. Betty laughed and shook her head.

"I do not. With all that studying, I'm sure you aced everything." Betty said, looking down at Peter's camera. "New pictures of the 'Masked Menace'?" she asked.

"'New York's Masked Menace'." Peter corrected her with a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah. Let's see what crazy crap Mr. Jameson makes up this time. Can I go in?" Peter asked. Betty buzzed for Jameson and the man looked out, frowned and waved for Peter to enter. Peter opened an closed the glass door and nodded his greetings to Robertson. Jameson sat back in his chair.

"Ok, Parker...what've you got this time?" Peter gave Jameson his camera and the man sat back and scrolled through all of the Spider-Man pictures he had taken while Peter waited in anticipation. Jameson set the camera down and shrugged.

"Those are good. Can't use them though." Jameson said. Peter frowned. Fucking serious...

"Why Because you see that Spider-Man's actually saving people?" Peter said with a dash of snark. Jameson laughed and rubbed his face.

"Hell no. Christ, I can't tell who's crazier out of you and Urich. That guy goes from linking Wilson Fisk to the drug trade to claiming there's a ninja cult in New York being combatted by a red ninja." Jameson said. Peter glanced at Robertson and then Jameson.

"There is?" he asked. Jameson's faced soured.

"Fu...seriously? Kid, no. There are no ninjas in New York." Jameson said. Peter nodded absently.

Right, like I didn't just fight some mutant ninjas last week. I guess they're another guy's problem now...he thought.

"Anyway," Jameson said as he glanced back through Peter's pictures. "I can't use these because they're still on the camera." Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Just take them off the camera and upload them on your office computer. There's nothing else on it. It's strictly for work." Peter said. Jameson shook his head.

"As a photographer, you should come in with photos, kid. Readily available for use." Jameson said. Peter wanted badly to object but he held his tongue. Jameson actually had a point. In his rush to get here, he hadn't been able to print his pictures.

"Is there another way? Can I e-mail them to you or Ms. Brant?" Peter said. Jameson rocked back and forth in his chair and shrugged.

"Ah, what the hell...it's Christmas Eve. Have those pictures sent by tomorrow. You can get half of your normal rate from Ms. Brant as an advance. You'll get the rest when they're in my inbox." Peter's jaw almost detached itself from his face. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Jameson wasn't being a dick? "Just don't do anything to doctor those photos. I want everyone in New York to see that menace for who he truly is." Peter sighed.

Nope...definitely still a dick. he thought. Peter smiled and waved at Jameson and Robertson. "Thank you, Mr. Jameson. Merry Christmas to you." he said. Jameson waved his hand and Peter left the office. He walked over to Betty and chuckled. "Jameson was...nice to me." he said. Betty laughed.

"Yeah, he loves the holidays for some reason." she said.

"It's weird. Like seeing Hitler being tender with a child." Peter remarked. "He said I could get half of my normal and the rest once I've sent the pictures in. I was really rushing." Peter said.

"No problem. Everyone's rushing. It's Christmas Eve. It might as well be renamed 'Rush Day'." Betty said as she handed Peter his check. She smiled at him. "Have a good Christmas, Peter." she said.

"Merry Christmas to you, too." Peter said as he turned and made his way into the elevator. This time, he headed to the top floor of the building and climbed up through the elevator shaft and the air vents until he got to the roof. He glanced at his watch. It was late and Aunt Mae was probably worried. He was surprised she hadn't called, although with the way she and Mary Jane got along and talked, she had probably almost forgotten that Peter was out. Nevertheless, Peter had to call.

The phone rang once. Then twice. Then it continued to ring as Peter put his Spider-Man costume back on. The phone went straight to voicemail. Peter leapt from the roof and called again. Once again, the phone went straight to voicemail. Peter flipped and landed on another roof and scratched his head. Aunt Mae not answering the house phone wasn't exactly weird. She might've been asleep. He had asked MJ to stay over until he got back so Peter called her cell, jumping from the roof and heading to his neighborhood in Queens.

Peter heard horns blaring and looked down to see two cars speeding along the avenue. He didn't think much of it. They were probably just trying to get home to his family like he was. Peter began to worry, however, when Mary Jane's phone went straight to voicemail. She never missed a call from him and it was highly unlikely that she was sleep this early. Peter felt his heart begin to pound in his chest so he attempted to calm himself. His gut told him something different. Something bad.

Peter quickly changed into his street clothes as he approached Forest Hills and ran forward to his house. As soon as he went to open the door, he felt like his heart was about to climb out through his mouth. The living room and kitchen had been savaged. Peter saw a bloodied knife lying on the floor in front of the cracked television. The water was still running in the sink and broken plates laid on the kitchen floor. Peter couldn't even call out for his aunt and girlfriend. His head started to pound as thoughts rushed through. Where were they? What happened? He needed answers.

And he got some.

On the kitchen table, Peter found a piece of paper with writing on it. As he read what it said, he was speechless.

"Dear Mr. Parker...

Come to the Tower on 54th Street. I have your family. Merry Christmas.

Sincerely, N.O.G.G."

Next, He Who Fights Monsters: Beyond Good