NOTE: Sorry about the long paragraphs. Action is so dull when you put it into quick sentences….
SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS
LIFE AS IT IS:
4:38 PM
The Daily Bugle. The cities leading source of news. I hated nearly everything about this place. I hated its putrid smell, its lack of creative design and most of all; it's boss. Before heading into his office, I looked through the pictures I had taken before school today. They were simple pictures cursed with crappy quality from my cheap Kodak camera. I knew Jameson wouldn't like them, but I needed money.
"Crap…utter crap…shit…oh?" A good one? "No, wait. More shit." Dammit.
"Am I still getting paid?" I questioned, a small shred of hope that I was getting any money from these shots.
He glared at me from across his desk, furrowing his brow. "You're a kid. Why do you need money?"
What an asshole. "It's nice to save."
"Save?" He spat at the thought. "Boy, when I was your age, I invested every dollar I had into this place."
The paint on the wall was nearly gone from chipping, ceiling had received major water damage and the floor was hollowed out from termites. "Didn't have much money, did you?"
Jonah's face tightened, a blood vessel popping out of his left temple. The wrinkles in-between his eyebrows became more prominent. I looked upon his reddening face, indecisive on how to react to his upcoming outburst. I noticed the muscles in his throat begin to contract and swell, the words gathering in his throat. He leapt up from his chair and onto his feet. His fists pounded the desk.
"DO YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY TO SHIT ALL OVER MY LIFE? DO YOU? GET OUT!" His mouth extended far behind normal length with each ear-deafening word. His right arm swung to the side sending pencils and paper across the office. He looked down at my pictures. "And take your fucking pictures with you!" He tossed the lamented sheets of paper in my direction, each one swaying side-to-side as they scattered around my feet. He dropped back into his chair, taking a deep breath and burying his face into hands. "I need some snort."
Took it better than expected.
The door behind me swung open, the broken hinge snapping upon usage. Robbie entered through the room, confusing gracing his face. "I heard yelling."
Jonah remained quiet, so I spoke up. "I sort of criticized the Bugle."
"And…?"
"He didn't like it." I bent down to pick up the photos, the pictures warm and slick between my fingers.
Robbie's eyes locked onto them as I tucked them under my armpit. "Whoa! What they hell are these?" He rushed over, gently sliding a picture out from between my ribcage and bicep.
His eyes traced the picture very carefully, no emotion escaping his face. "Uh, those are-" I began, slowly straightening myself out.
He ignored me. "Jonah!"
He picked his head up from his hands. "Yes?" He moaned, lowering his eyes.
"You told me this kid was getting you pictures of ducks."
"He was." He leaned back in the chair, throwing his arms behind his head.
"These ducks look a helluva lot like Spider-Man…"
"I don't see it…"
Robbie rolled his eyes, exhausted with Jonah's idiocy. Instead, he faced me, the picture still in his hands. "How long have you been getting Jonah pictures?"
"Few months."
"Has he paid you?"
"'Paid' being a relative term."
He snorted, holding my picture out in front of me. I grabbed it with my free hand as he placed his right arm on my shoulder, and smiled reassuringly. "Look, whenever you have some picture of this Spider-Man guy, bring them to me first. I'll tell you which ones to send to Jonah. If I'm wrong, just get Betty to call me up and I'll talk with him."
Wow. I had a friend at The Bugle. Other than Ben. "Thanks, Robbie. I will."
The door opened again, Betty bursting through and running over to Robbie. Her face was frozen in fear, all color drained from it.
"Betty? What's wrong?" Robbie questioned, left eyebrow slightly raised. She stood on her tip-toes to reach Robbie's ear. Robbie nodded once before taking on the same expression as Betty. She dropped to her heels, biting her lower lip, arms pulled into her chest. Robbie sighed, turning toward me. My heart began to drum faster. Unlike Stacy's death, I didn't have a clue what had happened. "Peter…I think we need to talk…"
xXx
6:13 PM.
The old abandoned carnival. A dilapidated place of old memories and twisted scenery. It stands as a lone island off the coast of Manhattan. Its gothic architecture and broken frame a staple of the old sixties amusement park. It was closed in the mid-seventies after a young boy was molested and killed there by the owner. Since then it's fallen under the law of the pushers and junkies, Coney Island becoming the leading source of amusement. Typically it's the cities leading meth lab and squatter home. A safe haven from the tortures of society on those with nowhere to go, either mentally or physically.
Now? Now it's The Goblin's new personal hell. He's outfitted these low-lifes with military grade weapons and ammunition. Each one wearing a pumpkin-shaped helmet to signify their allegiance to the bastard himself. They're on look out. For me. They know I'm coming.
They know I'm here for Ben.
xXx
The cop car lit up in a passion of fire and heat. The bright blue and red sirens screaming across the night sky. The officers took cover behind their respective cars, pistols in hand. They had dispatched for SWAT mere minutes ago and were sitting tight until their arrival.
The crack of gunpowder broke the waning silence as a sniper bullet drove its way into the windshield of the middle of the three cruisers. The cops dove for cover, hiding behind the cars. I had been able to watch over the scene from a nearby buoy halfway between the main-land and 'Family Land.' I rested atop its point, observing the island. The restaurants were along the docks, their flat roofs perfect for a man to set-up cover and stakeout. That's just what The Goblin's men did. They used abandoned wood from the rides to make cover up on the restaurant tops. The two lead buildings hosted men with machine guns. One of these men had traded his rifle for a grenade launcher which he used to destroy the car. Nice shot, too. It was easily three hundred feet of water between him and the car. Five men with shotguns and pistols patrolled the ground. Two sat at a table having a smoke. Thirty feet behind them stood a guard tower. Originally used for the security to watch over the eating area, a sniper now lay, scoping out the area. If I was to get anywhere, I would need to take him out.
Three more buoys led me to the docks of the island. Only one of them was standing still, the waves rippling up and crashing into the posts. Using the majority of my strength, I dove towards the pier. The force from my jump sinking the buoy under the river before it popped back up. My jump didn't get me to the pier, but it didn't have to. I sent a web-line to the wooden runway and used it as a zip-line, my body soaring across the water and into the dock. I rolled into the dock in order to lessen both the damage on my body and the sound. None of the men had night-vision which meant their worthless flashlights couldn't see me from this distance. I was still hidden underneath the cloak of night.
Making my way down the pier, I could hear the man on the closest restaurant cough a few times and drop his gun. Curious, I jumped onto the side of the building and crawled along the edge to the left side of the guard. Splinters broke away from my hands and feet as I shuffled quietly up to the roof. I peeked my eyes above the edge and examined the coughing man. The cough was wet and moist, like someone blowing through a used straw. Most likely smoker's lung. He rested his gun against the cover in order to pull out a water bottle from the ammo crate beside him. He had dropped to one knee in order to stay hidden behind the cover which came up to about the middle of his chest. I figured he would benefit from losing his fire-arm.
I wrapped the AK-47 in webbing and pulled it towards me, making sure it didn't slide across the ground. I caught it with my right hand, my left still gripping the building to help me stay upright. Turning around to face my chest to the water, I hit the ammo-lock switch, the metal casing falling from the rifle and into my left hand. I threw both into the river; watching the water surround them, destroy them. Within seconds, they had sunk out of sight. I dropped back to the ground and continued to make my way over to the sniper's nest. Not knowing the current positions of the ground patrol, I pressed my back up against the same restaurant, peeking around the corner just in case. I snapped my head back into place as I noticed that a man with a shotgun was strolling over toward me, flashlight taped to the bottom of the gun. It was a normal walk, just a patrol. He wasn't alerted yet. I decided to wait for him to come to me, leaping out and attacking him would only end in disaster. I used the sound of his footsteps as a way to judge his distance. Every once in a while, I lost track because of the coughing dog above.
Soon, he was within feet of me, his body swaying as he whistled a song to himself. When he was two feet from the corner of the building, I swung my arms around, latching onto his chest. He inhaled suddenly at the sight of my arms. Before he could yell, I brought my arms back, swinging his head into the wall on my right. The impact knocked him unconscious instantly, shotgun cascading to the dirt-covered planks. I kicked the shotgun up off the ground and into the air above the water. Same as the AK-47, it was engulfed by the waves and swallowed up. Just to be safe, I peered around the corner one more time, the two men at the rickety wood table were still enjoying their cigarettes and the only other man in sight seemed perfectly fine.
I dashed towards the next building, the sniper tower only twenty feet from the opposite side. Behind the watch-tower was the entrance to the park, a huge mansion covering up the rides and fun that were associated with 'Family Land.' Camping out on the roof above me was another guard. Unlike the first one, he didn't fall into a fit of coughing, so I couldn't attack him without having a bullet in my brain from the sniper nearby. I did the same as the last corner and peered around carefully. No one was in sight, just a clear path to the thirty-five foot tower. Problem was it was in plain-sight, two lamp-posts on either side to illuminate its base and the area around it. I couldn't run over and scale the ladder without being seen. I had to be creative. I raised my eyes to the top of the tower, half-walls surrounded the sniper, his gun propped up on the one in front to adjust the recoil. The back of the tower was open to allow people going up the ladder to actually get in. An idea exploded into my mind, a slight grin forming from underneath my mask. I used my webbing to zip-line myself up onto the top of the tower. There were no lights that high up, so I was still in the dark. Taking a few deep breaths, I planned out the idea in my head one last time. It seemed like it would work as long as I didn't screw it up. With one last breath, I began.
I leapt backward, flipping in the same direction to slightly slow down my fall. My chest was only facing the ground as I neared the opening in the sniper's box. Using both hands, I attached my webbing to the posts on either side of the sniper. I pulled myself in with them, completing my flip, legs extended. Both feet drove into the sniper's back, his chest slammed up against the cover in front of him. His sniper was snapped backwards as his chest hit the butt of the rifle. I snatched it out of the air with my right arm, making sure it didn't land and attract unwanted attention. Feeling good about my execution, I scanned the area to make sure I was OK. No one had noticed.
I wasn't on the hunt for criminal scum tonight, I was looking for Ben. He was somewhere in this corpse of an island, and I was going to find him.
xXx
I kicked down the door, hinges snapping in half. The door bent inwards from the impact of my kick.
"Ben? Ben!" No answer.
It was the abandoned employee lounge. Dusty lounge chairs and rotting, wood tables littered the single room building, only visible from the shed of moonlight emanating from the open doorway. Frustrated I turned around to the last building on the island I had yet to check for Ben.
The Hall of Mirrors.
There it stood, bathing in the night air, cobwebs and all. It seemed to have jumped straight from the pages of an old horror movie. Lack of color and all. I didn't want to go in. Hell, I didn't want to be on the island at all. I could be watching TV, studying, or, dare I say it, patching things up with Gwen best I could. But no, here I was, staring into The Goblin's haunting trap.
The Hall of Mirrors was placed atop two sets of six stairs. I approached the building quickly, wasting no time in finding Ben.
That was my first mistake.
As I took my first step up the stairs, I could feel my foot tug on something. A trip wire. By the time my spider-sense warned me, it was too late. The wire snapped down the middle, the wooden awning over the door to the Hall of Mirrors swung open. Several of The Goblin's pumpkin bombs rolled out of the awning, fuses blazing, faces laughing at my misfortune. I dove backwards, towards the employee lounge, tucking my knees in to avoid my feet being ripped from my body.
The explosion took off, a wave of heat taking over my body as the flames leapt from the stairs. God, it felt like an earthquake. My head went numb, ears buzzing. My body accelerated in speed, my back crashing into the wall of the employee lounge. I winced as I picked myself up off the floor, observing the damage. The stairs had been blown to pieces, a gaping whole left in its place. The flying wood had cut up my costume pretty badly, feet singed to a pitch-black.
"God, Ben better be in this God damn building." I moaned to myself before zip-lining my way up to the door with my web.
xXx
The inside of the building was no better than the outside. Old cobwebs and dust hung from the ceiling, wallpaper torn from the walls. There was no light to speak of as all the windows had been boarded up long ago, so I was relying on my limited vision from my spider-sense. I began down the thin hallway, tapping the floor gently with each step to make sure not to set off another trap.
As I passed by the first mirror, the lights jumped to life, the sudden change in lighting burning my eyes. The loud speaker cackled to life as my eyes were adjusting.
"Welcome, Spider-Man." The Goblin greeted. "Glad to see you made it." The mirrors had become fully visible now, my various 'clones' coming to life. Felt like an awkward family reunion. I walked briskly towards the still darkened section of the hallway, trying my best to ignore both The Goblin and the multiple incarnations of me. "You're a tough little bastard to kill. I hope you realize that."
"Where's Ben?" I called back, making sure he could hear me.
"In due time. Right now, let's focus on your future. Specifically, your funeral plans."
The mirrors behind me began to explode, the walls caving in around them. I bolted down the hallway, broken glass and crumbling drywall surrounding me. My enhanced speed gave me a slight advantage over the danger behind me, but that didn't calm me. My mind screamed to move faster, but I couldn't. My lungs were working overtime, feet slapping the wooden floor as quickly as they could. I ran into the darkened area, praying there were no more mirrors. I ran face-first into a wall. Curled up in a ball, I continued to pray, the explosion rapidly catching up to me.
Boom! Please, God. Boom! Please. Boom! Please! Boom! PLEASE!
And they stopped. I peered over my shoulder; the ceiling had come down, exposing the night sky. I let out a sigh of relief, body loosening at the hinges. Just as the hallway, the lights came back on, the loud speaker reactivated. The new room was a large circle, windows to darkness lined the walls.
"Very lucky, Mr. Parker."
I decided to play my one card. "I know your secret. I know you're Norman Osborn!"
The Goblin slightly shocked. "Very perceptive. For your good work, I will give you your prize." The lights in window behind me lit up, revealing Ben, beaten and battered tied to a chair on the other side. "Only after you complete my test." The other lights went on, the contents of each room revealed to me: Ben.
"What the hell…?" My mouth dropped, brain unable to contemplate what was going on.
"Now…" The Goblin took a deep breath. "I know this is a little overwhelming, but it really is quite simple. One of these rooms has the real Ben. The others are just projections of the real one." I pressed my face against each window, hoping to see any evidence of one of them being fake. They were too far away for me to tell. "Before you go breaking all these windows, let me warn you. If you break the glass with a projector behind it, the room will explode. Have fun." And with that, the speaker shut down.
I placed my hands over my head. Today was not going as planned. I continued to press my face up against each window, just to see if I could eliminate any of them from the running. Ben was tied and bound by the arms, legs and mouth, no way to help me. The Goblin hadn't said if they were prerecorded projections or live, so I spent a large portion of my time trying to notice patterns.
Ben's breathing became very loud. I began to fear for his health. "Ben? Ben! Are you OK? Tell me-" Then it hit me. I started listening to his breathing.
One. Two. Three. Break. One. Two. Three. Break.
Three. That was the magic number. I assumed he meant three spaces from the first mirror that lit up. Now, left or right? I went to the left first, prepping my fist. He took two breaths. Usually that meant 'yes', so I sent my fist hurling through the mirror. The Ben in front of me was three dimensional. I breathed a sigh of relief and ran over to him.
"God, are you OK?" I dropped to my knee, tearing the ropes off.
"Yeah, I think my right leg is broken so you're gonna have to carry me out of here right now!"
"OK, OK. Let's get the hell out of here."
"Now!"
He was in a rush. "Why?"
"These bombs are timed! That's why I didn't just scream when you in front of the wrong mirror. Needed to save time. Let's go!"
I hoisted Ben up, legs bent over my right arm, left arm holding his body up, and raced back to the hole in the ceiling. I used the crumbled wall as a stepping stone and leapt up through the wall. Walking across the roof, my spider-sense raced up my neck and burned the back of my head. The bombs within the 'window room' went off, but the explosion was larger than anticipated, the fire crawling towards us. I jumped away from the fire, landing on the employee lounge.
"Jesus Christ!" I gasped, setting Ben down on the roof.
"Yeah, I sort of forgot to tell you that he drenched the building in gasoline…"
I looked back at the Hall of Mirrors. The roof had been set aflame, the fire showing no sign of dying down. "How could you forget to tell me that?"
"I was in a rush!" I shook my head, breathing in a mouth-full of fresh air. The fire was warm and soothing, the comfort a welcomed feeling compared to the constant fear I had been experiencing that past half hour. "Could you bring me to a hospital?" Ben interrupted my meditation.
I picked Ben back up, heading for the docks opposite the entrance. Walking away I could've sworn I heard The Goblin's laugh resenating from the chilling night sky.
I was gonna find him. And when I did, I was gonna make sure he didn't fuck with me again.