SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS

A NEW LOOK:

Slowly I put the final stitch into the glove. I held it up in front of me, my arms fully outstretched to encompass all aspects of it. I smiled pleasantly as I noticed I had correctly lined up each detail and design. This suit had far more life to it than my previous look, and although it ate away at most of my money to make, it made me look like a respectable hero. It was constructed of a new spandex-like material I found at the local sports store called "Deflexion." It was spandex on the outside with a reflective inside which kept heat in. It would come in use mostly for those cold rainy nights or those chilling snow-covered evenings. The suit had a red "v-shape" on the body, the point starting right above the crotch, coming up to the shoulders and neck, and circling around to cover my upper back. The gloves and boots came halfway up my arms and legs respectively sporting the same blood red color as my body-piece. The parts that weren't red were pure black, and the red parts of my suit featured a black web design with the web emanating from the center of my chest and spreading out. On top of the center of the webbing was a pitch-black spider, about half the size of my head. Another spider covered most of my back with its "tick-like" appearance. My mask had its own web design which started at the bridge of my nose and spread outwards. The eye pieces were the same shape as my past ones, but they were black as opposed to white. I had also hand-created a small plastic belt which would hold most notes and web-cartridges. It was far less "bulgy" than any belts I could find and, like my web-shooters, was barely noticeable under my costume.

My phone began to vibrate on the nightstand beside my bed. Feeling lazy, I stretched my whole body out to reach it and just barely grabbed it. It was a calendar alert.

"Daily Bugle 12:00" the digital text read.

xXx

Daily Bugle, 12:03 PM.

As opposed to going to the top floor of the Bugle to have a 'pleasant' conversation with Jonah, I stopped by the fifth. This was the editor and journalists floor. The boss of this level was Robbie Robertson, Editor-in-Chief of the Bugle; the position below Jonah. Ben barely introduced me a few weeks ago. He seemed too calm to be on Jonah's good side, but whatever works, works. His son Randy is a football player at Midtown High. Despite the obvious joke with his name, he's one of Flash's closer friends, but not quite an asshole. Almost like another Kong. I never really talked to him though. I suppose his father would have been a good topic to start a conversation with, but after the fight with Flash, I'd rather not risk it. My reason at the Bugle had changed along with the floor number. Instead of giving more photographs to Jameson, I was digging through the archives looking for some sort of clue as to who this Shocker guy was and if he had anything to do with the Oz.

As I stepped out of the elevator, the smell hit me. Not one of cigars and coffee like the top floor, but of clean windows and polished wood. The floor plan was identical to the top floor with the exception of new computers and a different wall color. I stepped hesitantly out of the elevator, not sure if I was allowed there. I spotted an empty computer on the far side of the room under a large white sign which read 'Archives.' I made my way over to the computer, keeping my head low, when a firm hand took hold of my shoulder.

"Hang on, young man." the slightly high-pitched voice demanded. I turned around to a pale white man wearing a cheap suit and wavy blonde hair. "Visitors aren't allowed here."

"Oh, I'm not a visitor. I'm-" A familiar figure approached the man and stopped my explanation.

"Kingsley, it's cool. Get back to work." the figure smiled.

Robbie. He had a strong posture with casual work clothes.

"Yes, sir." Kingsley sighed, walking past me and back to his desk.

"You have to excuse him; he gets a little worked up sometimes." Robbie outstretched his arm for a handshake and I acknowledged it. "Peter…right?" he asked mid-handshake.

"Yeah."

"Well, Peter, what can I do for you? Ben's home I hope you realize…"

"No, I know that. I'm doing a paper for Global and I was wondering if I could use the archives?" I lied, making it seem as believable as I could.

"I think Randy's doing that paper…"

No he isn't.

He led me over to the computer and pulled up a web-browser like application.

"All you have to do is type in whatever name you want…" he stopped mid-sentence and typed 'Kingpin' in the search bar. "…and you have unlimited access to all printed articles about the subject."

"Thanks, Mr. Robertson."

"Ah, please. Call me Robbie. If you need any help, just come get me in my office." He patted my back and was off towards his office.

I sat down in the worn, leather chair and lightly placed my hands on the keyboard. One word came to mind instantly. 'S-H-O-C-K-E-R' my fingers tapped out rhythmically. Three results came back.

"Local lottery winner explains how winning the lottery is 'such a shocker'"

No.

"'Shocker' arrested by police after having a seizure mid-fight"

Maybe.

I clicked on the headline and the page switched to a digital newspaper article. The article explained how police arrested wanted gang leader Herman Shultz after breaking into a fit of seizures mid-heist one night. He nicknamed himself Shocker due to his epileptic nature. Not quite what I was looking for but it was a start. I hit the 'Back' button on the top right of the page and the previous page loaded back up.

"'Shocker' bailed out of jail by unidentified family member"

This article described how an unnamed family member bailed out Shocker for one hundred and twelve-thousand dollars. Would explain how he got free.

There were no other search results to examine or key-words to input, so I cleared the screen and headed home. Bank criminal turned super villain isn't a normal occurrence, and considering the unnatural aspects of 'Shocker's' body; it didn't happen overnight.

xXx

Home, 6:30 PM.

"Hey, it's Harry. Leave a message and I'll get back to you whenever I can. K, thanks, bye." Harry's voice mail echoed.

"Hey, it's Pete." I started, unsure of what to say. My entire 'speech' was riding on Harry picking up. "Haven't heard from you in a while. Was kinda hoping we could talk. Call me when you get this, thanks." I hung up, unsatisfied with how that unfolded. I fell back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. My legs extended as I yawned, my foot kicking the chest by my bed. I sat up to see that it had fallen over, my new Spider-man costume spilling out and onto the floor. I studied it for a few seconds and pulled out my phone again.

6:31 PM.

Part didn't start for another two and a half hours. Plenty of time to kick some ass.

xXx

"Oh, shit!" one yelled.

"Get the hell out of here! Go, go, go!" the other shouted.

My feet collided with the back of the one leading the two person line, knocking him onto the sidewalk. I continued my momentum and back-flipped my way into the air. Half-way through my flip I shot out two little spicks off web. Each one connecting with the other man's face as he ran over his partner. He grunted in frustration as he dropped the duffle-bag of money, the crisp bills launching up into the air. I landed swiftly on the pavement, my back turned towards the crooks. The man I kicked in the back was on his feet and racing for the bag of money. I launched into the air and landed cleanly on the lamp-post above the money. With both hands, I wrapped up his feet in webbing and dragged him into the air, tying the other end of webbing to the lamp-post. The man was left suspended twelve feet in the air, swinging and yelling. My head began to itch and I knew it was my spider-sense. I dropped off the light-post as the crack of a gun echoed through the air and a bullet glided above me. The crook pressed the trigger again, the bullet hitting the street and ricocheting into the sky. He fired another shot, this one digging itself into the side of the building. I hadn't moved. The bone-freezing air mixed with the man's fear caused him to fire wildly.

"It's too friggin' cold for this!" he pouted, throwing the .45 to the ground and taking off in the opposite direction. He cornered the building sharp and went behind the grocery store him and his friend had just robbed. I scaled the building and ran across the roof towards the alley on the other side. The crook was going to have to pass it. I hid in the darkness, perched along the wall, my chest grazing the brick finish. I heard panting coming from the entrance to the alleyway as the crook ran past it. I stopped him in his tracks with a web-line to his back and pulled him up to my level. My hand caught him by the shirt collar before gravity took him away and I stared into his eyes.

"You can keep the money on one condition." I explained to my prey.

"Wha-what?" he stuttered, eyes as wide as could be.

I leaned in on him, my nose an inch from his. His sweat was glistening under the night moon and his body trembled from the cold.

"You go to jail."

He stared dumbfounded at me. "But…wouldn't that…NOT give me the money…?"

"Wow. Maybe instead of stealing a few hundred dollars, you should have stolen a common sense." I webbed him to the building with a heavy layer of fluid. "Most people have one, you probably could have pick-pocketed it."

xXx

I came back to the duffle bag immediately after I dealt with the runner. The other guy had passed out from hanging upside down too long. I packed all the money back into the bag and attached it to the wall next to the lamp-post. I pulled out a small post-it from my belt and a sharpie from the grocery store.

With my neatest hand-writing I wrote a note to the police. "Courtesy, Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man" and stuck it to the duffle-bag. It's nice to have some recognition as a hero, even if the correct term is vigilante. I retreated to the fire-escape on the apartment building across the street to grab my cell-phone and camera. The camera had captured eleven shots. About nine of them were usable, the rest either didn't come out right or just weren't suited for the Daily Bugle. I resorted to my phone for the time.

8:46 PM.

Just enough time to get home for MJ's party.

I perched myself along the fencing off the fire escape, smiling like an idiot. I was more than pleased at the way the night had gone. I had stopped seven crimes and taken thirty good pictures. Best night I've had in a while.

I was supposed to meet Gwen at the door to my apartment building. Figured I would sneak into my bedroom through the window and take the stairs down to the street.

I should have been accidentally bitten by a genetically-altered spider long ago.