SPIDER-MAN: DARK WOUNDS
BROKEN:
My knees felt as if they were about to give, my stomach eating itself alive. The cold sting of winter's bite on my exposed skin, the trickle of blood from opened wounds. I was a mess. A small, insignificant mess and as I starred at my enemy, the thought became worse and worse. He had healed quickly, not a single trace of our battle. His blood-red eyes staring back at me, his purple rags flapping in the wind. His newly acquired weapon had become a doomsday device to both me and the police.
Gwen.
"Please…" My voice was shaky, broken. "I-I-I don't know…I don't know what you want…please…"
He laughed, mocking me. Her golden hair hanging from around his arms. "What do I want? What I want is for you to suffer."
"No…"
"Yes." He barked back. "I told you would pay for your stubbornness." He looked down at Gwen, his smile growing. "This is your check, Mr. Parker."
"What do you plan on accomplishing? What will killing Gwen do?" Tears began to form in my eyes and my lip began to shake.
"I'm not expecting anything. Not by this point at least. I'm doing this to show you what you could have avoided had you used your gifts correctly."
"What? What gifts?"
"We're brothers, Mr. Parker. Brothers stick together."
"Brot-" I stopped mid-sentence and looked down at my right hand.
The spider-bite.
I looked back up at him, bewildered. He smiled right back.
"You can't be serious…" I whispered. "You think we're brothers because we both have that Oz shit in us?"
He laughed at me, cackling. I began to get even more light-headed. "Of course we are, Peter. Even the worthless citizens of this wretched city know we're one in the same. Two diamonds in a mound of coal."
"You're insane! All I've done is help these people! I pledged that wi-"
"Great power comes great yada yada yada. I've heard it all before." He continued for me, his smile dropping from his face. "You don't think these cops and lawyers will butcher you for not saving little Miss Gwendolyn Stacy? Hell, they're ready to kill us both right now…"
"What are you talking about?"
"Looks, Peter. Slowly." He lightly nodded his head to his left.
Slowly, I turned my head towards the barrage of SWAT and police cars that had blocked off the end of the bridge leading to Manhattan. The sirens blaring, lights blinding, my world slowly began to fall apart. Almost every officer there had a machine gun, grip and scope attached to each one. Half of the men stood their ground, guns pointed directly at the Goblin, their focus standing strong against the wind and the cold.
The other half was on me.
"No…you idiots…" I mumbled, loud enough for the Goblin to hear.
"You can't blame them. It's not every day you see people like us." He paused for a second, his smile reforming. "Well, not them, anyway. You've had your hands quite full with Kraven and Shocker lately."
My world imploded.
"Wha-? How could you…?" My voice was jagged, clogged, my throat hoarse from the cold air.
"Without them, I wouldn't be here right now. You have them to thank for their…contributions to science."
His words hit like a sledgehammer, my brain pulsating within my skull. The Goblin's plan slowly unveiled itself before me. The pieces had been right in front of me all along; all it took was a little light for me to put them together. His words were that light.
The spider that bit me in Oscorp was infused with an experimental version of Oz. I didn't just live through the bite, I was changed by it. Somehow, the Oz formula had worked. It had turned me into something more than just Peter Parker, and Norman despised it. He was enraged with curiosity and jealousy. He spent every waking moment trying to replicate the results. He went through test subject after test subject, grand after grand. Nothing. On top of his recent failures, Norman began to experience a new problem: Harry.
Harry was getting too close to Norman's work and he couldn't afford to have Harry find out about what he was doing. He needed to distract him, draw his attention elsewhere. He told Harry he was a crime-boss, some sort of Kingpin, disguising it as some sort of 'coming of age' knowledge. Harry went insane, torn between doing what was right and handing in his father, and keeping his secret. Thing was, it was all a lie, and even if Harry did decide to hand his father in, there would be no proof and Norman would be off scott-free.
With Harry off his back and now in my care, Norman was free to work as he pleased, spending days at a time working. This lifestyle was becoming too expensive and Norman couldn't afford to pay off witnesses to his experiments and hire test subjects, so he brought his experimental Oz to the streets, disguising it as some sort of new street drug. That's where I first encountered him; selling Oz to that group of kids in the alleyway. With me involved, Norman was getting nervous, especially since I now had a vile of Oz which, if I wanted to, could be traced back to Norman. He needed to get rid of me and so he hired Kraven, a hit-man from Australia with a background in hunting to take me out. To combat my spider-powers, Norman gave Kraven a very mild version of Oz, just enough to make him a formidable opponent. Norman's plan worked and he was able to work, undisturbed, for a little longer.
For his next test subject, Norman looked to a long-time rival of his: Otto Octavius. Knowing that Otto wouldn't go without a fight and that his mother was in town, Norman hired Hammerhead to kill off his mother, to emotional weaken Otto, and bring him in for testing. Unfortunately, Otto retaliated and caused Hammerhead to lose his cool and almost kill him. Norman wasn't finished with Otto, however, and pulled the strings so that Otto would be treated in Dr. Phineas Mason's clinic. Norman had funded most of Dr. Mason's clinic and so he made it for Otto to be put in his own room, in the back of the building, away from the other patients, so that Norman could experiment as he pleased once Otto healed.
Norman wasn't done with his Oz formula, though, and he was running out of money, fast. His intense jealousy and craving for knowledge led him to break known bank robber, Herman Schultz: a burglar with a history for seizures, out of jail. He promised Schultz unlimited power and a cut of the profit if he would become a test subject and perform a heist for him. Herman agreed and became a living weapon with the ability to turn the kinetic energy from his seizures into concentrated blasts of energy which were projected from his gauntlets. To make sure Schultz was stronger than Kraven and still able to function, Norman augmented Herman with both his own technology and the Oz formula. Norman's idea worked and Herman became a walking energy weapon.
Unfortunately, the tech caused Herman's body to rely on Oz; a fact I witnessed first-hand during our fight. Herman gathered his old gang together and stole the desired amount for Norman. Thinking ahead, Herman and his gang took different vans, his gang holding the money, him by himself. Falling for the trick, I followed Schultz and the money made it to Norman safely. Armed with more money, Norman continued his tests, working on the, now healed, Otto in Mason's clinic. Whatever he did to Otto obviously worked better than he could have imagined and Otto escaped the clinic with ease.
With no other options, Osborn created one last batch of the Oz formula and tested it on his last test subject, taking every possible risk he could.
Himself.
The formula worked, better than he could have ever imagined, and Norman changed, his skin mutating to a scale-like green, eyes bleeding over into red, teeth taking the form of fangs. He was, in every form of the word, a goblin, and he loved it. He was stronger, faster and deadlier than ever.
And because of this, he viewed the two of us as brothers, gods among men. He created some ill-conceived prophecy of a link between us, that we were meant to rule over the weak. But in his mind, I had broken fate by becoming Spider-Man, by helping them. He became hell-bent on breaking me, both physically and mentally. He wanted to show me that he was my equal, if not superior, and that by going against him, I was destined to lose. Because of this, I was attacked ruthlessly, Captain Stacy was killed, Ben was kidnapped, and now, Gwen; the final piece to his puzzle.
One thing's for sure. As of right now…
I'm destined to lose.
The Goblin sensed my amazement, my hesitation. "What's wrong, Parker? Surprised that everything leading up to this point was all made possible by me?"
"I-I…what? You're…you're an idiot!" I yelled, pointing my finger at him.
He took a step back, taken aback by my response. "That's not a smart thing to say, Peter. Especially since I have Ms. Stacy here."
"You had money, power, influence, and obviously the smarts considering how developed your plan was, but you threw it all away because of jealousy and greed. What is wrong with you? I can tell you one thing, we sure as hell aren't brothers, you sick freak!"
He looked at me, the smile slowly dropping from his face. I stared back, my heart beat increasing, the thought that those words were what was going to kill Gwen. He looked away from me and at Gwen, staring at her for a few second before turning towards the edge of the bridge and laying her down gently on the ground. I began to shake, confused and nervous, ready to pounce. He smiled.
I realized that with Gwen out of the way, I was safe to beat the living crap out of him. I leapt at him, pinning him to the ground with my hands. Before he could react, I start throwing punches at his face. Each one sending a tremor up my arm. I went to throw another right hook, but the Goblin caught my wrist, stopping my strike. I ignored it and threw a punch with my left; he caught this one just the same. I growled in his face, trying to get my feet in a position where I could land kicks. I needed to put him down quickly.
He laughed at me and I spat in his face. He retaliated by squeezing my wrists. Something snapped and I ignored it, not feeling pain, still trying to get my legs free. My left leg escaped from beneath me, but before I could deliver a swift kick to his neck, he slid his leg out from under me and pressed it against my chest. I froze, looking at his foot, and then back up at him. He smiled, showing a sharp, toothy grin, and kicked me, releasing my wrists so that I tumbled along the roof, stopping by the edge overlooking the water.
I was already hurt from our battle in the street earlier and so I was having a hard time getting up. I cursed at myself for not putting him down already. I had the upper hand.
I looked up at him, on one knee, and received a right hook to the jaw. I fell over, dizzy and out of breath. His hand gripped my neck and slowly brought me up to his level. I struggled for air, kicking and squirming in his grasp. He brought me in quickly, kneeing me in the stomach and threw me into the ground, my head ricocheting off the concrete.
The world went dark for a second.
I forced myself up to my feet, vision swaying, my legs barely able to keep myself up. My head was pounding, my hearing cut off.
The Goblin had Gwen in his grasp again. He smiled and said something that I was unable to hear.
And then he dropped her off the edge.
My world slowed to a snail's pace as I lunged forward, my feet pushing at the concrete. My eyes staring wholeheartedly at Gwen as she slowly disappeared from view. My breathing accelerated to a fever pitch and I was forcing myself to continue forward. Forcing myself to stay awake, not to faint right there and then. The Goblin took a step back, smiling at me. I looked up at him as I continued forward, my eyes showing through my cracked lenses. He gave me a big, toothy grin and I forced myself to stay concentrated on Gwen.
Piece of shit.
Gwen disappeared behind the arch faster than I expected. I dropped to my hip, sliding along the concrete, my costume catching at the stones and bumps in the ground. I stayed concentrated on my goal. I came up to the edge of the arch, my chest lined up the edge, my head and arms dangling high above the ground.
Above Gwen.
She was still in free-fall, her body weightless in the dark, winter air. Her golden hair reaching out from her body.
I still had time.
I threw out my arms and, without hesitation, my fingers pressed the triggers of my web-shooters. The gears shifted within my mechanical creations, the fluid being compressed and pushed to the nozzle. The web-shooters began to fizz and I could feel my breath, somehow, increasing. The fizz heightened for a second before being turned into nothing.
No webbing.
No fluid.
Nothing.
The Goblin had planned this. He never had any plans for Gwen to live and made sure his plans came to fruition. That snap I heard during our fight was my web-shooters. He had broken them…to break me.
The world froze, each individual snow-flake becoming distinguishable against a backdrop of pitch-black sky. My hearing had left me. Shut off like a light switch. My heart wasn't beating. My lungs weren't working. My eyes were forced to forever stare at Gwen. The gentle trace of her body, the gleam of her hair. The look of peace on her face.
I pressed the trigger on my web-shooters again as the world slowly began to work again. As the Earth decided to revolve around the sun once more.
Still nothing.
She fell farther.
One more time. Same results.
Not much time left.
Scared and desperate, Gwen seemed to be falling faster now. The world had almost resumed its normal pace. The city beginning to live once more. With no more options, I tried my web-shooters once more, pressing as hard as I could. This time, a crack was heard.
The crack of Gwen's body hitting the ground.
The city went silent, as if every light had just shut off. The sound of the wind kicking up snow, the beep of a car horn. My own body mimicked it, not a single part deciding to react. I just laid there, staring helplessly at the broken body on the road. My arms hung lifelessly from my shoulders. My face began to burn up, my eyes tearing. Slowly, I lifted my head; the police were beginning to move in.
I had to beat them.
For Gwen.
I picked myself up and raced over to the edge of the arch where the suspenders met it. My vision was hazy and uneven, the trip down to the ground was torture, but I didn't care. I needed to get to Gwen. As I reached the ground, I looked up to the divider, where the last few seconds had just felt like an eternity.
The Goblin was gone, vanished like a mirage.
Good thing, too. If he had been there, he would have already been dead.
I leapt to the pavement and stumbled as I landed my mind and body not quite ready for what I was going through. The police backed up at the sight of me. I ignored them and I continued over to Gwen where she lay in a puddle of her own blood, her body contorted, twisted. As I headed over to her, I could feel my heart weighing me down, and my knees buckled beneath me. I fell to the concrete, crying, shaking.
No. You have to finish.
I pulled myself to my hands and my knees and crawled the rest of the way to Gwen, my vision clouded by tears. I could have sworn I was going to vomit at any moment. I got to Gwen and slowly, carefully, picked her up in my arms. I sat slouched, tired, weary, Gwen's body cradled in my arms. A trail of blood dripping from her lips, her eyes closed. I could feel the twist and the snap of her spine with my hands. Blood poured from a crack in the back of her head, staining her blonde hair.
I broke down and hugged her, sobbing and biting my bottom lip. I could feel no heartbeat, no breath, no life.
Gwen Stacy had died by the Goblin's hand.
"No…please…don't-don't do this to-to me…" I cried, gripping her tighter. "You can't leave me."
As I hugged her, letting my emotions flow, I could feel the warmth of her body on mine as we hugged, the taste of her lips on mine, the shine of her smile, the dance of her eyes as she laughed. My best memories with her unfolded before me, like a book revealing its secrets. I knew there would be no others and I knew that these memories would fade over time, like a burned photograph. The thoughts hurt and I cried harder, my throat clogged. I could hear footsteps slowly approach from my right. I ignored them, keeping to myself.
They stopped beside me. I slowly twisted my head to the right, my eyes looking up at my visitor.
Jean DeWolfe. Her hand hovering over her pistol.
The visual of her and her lack of trust in me lit of flame of rage in my chest. I slowly lowered Gwen to the pavement, straightening out her body, trying to make her seem as natural as possible. The wind picked up and I used my right hand to gently push the hair out of her eyes. The wind came once more and her hair shifted. That's when I noticed what was wrong; her hairband was missing. I stood up, nervous and shaky, my head twisting from side-to-side. My eyes searched frantically for the little black hairband that she loved so much.
"Spider-Man…" DeWolfe started.
"Shut up! Where's the hairband?" I demanded, not even bothering to look at her.
"Excuse me?" She sounded hurt.
"I'll deal with you later!" I turned towards her, screaming in her face. "Where's that god damn hairband?" The tears came rolling down my face in droves. She looked at me through a fresh set of eyes. I was no longer a mutant or a false idol to this city. I was a person. Just like here.
She raised her hand to the left. "I saw it over there."
I ran over to where she was pointing and found the little piece of black plastic lying silently on the cracked road. I picked it up, my conversation with Gwen the night her father died replaying in my head.
She worried about me so much.
I weighed the hairband in my hand, my fingers tracing the edges.
She actually cared.
I headed back over to her body, DeWolfe standing nearby.
Caring for me got her killed.
I dropped to my knee and fixed her hair with the hairband, making sure no strand was out of place. I could hear DeWolfe breathing beside me, part of my brain working out my conversation with her ahead of time. With the hairband resting comfortably atop her head, I took a step back to admire my work. Aside from the ever growing puddle of blood, she looked as normal as ever. She looked like Gwen.
"Can we talk now?" DeWolfe asked cautiously. I turned my attention towards her, that hatred in my chest rekindling. "Look, I'm sorry this had to happen bu-"
"Shut your mouth, you bitch." I growled, taking a step forward.
"Watch your mo-"
"NO! What were you thinking?" I began to yell again, the dried tears making my skin taught.
"What are you talking about?"
"I saw your men. You were ready to take us both down. You view me just as you view him. You think we're monsters."
"It was a precaution. We knew the difference between you two." She explained, trying to defuse me.
"Really? That right hand of yours says differently." I stared her in the eyes.
She looked back, slightly confused before looking down at her right hand, the one covering the pistol. I saw the surprise in her face as she looked back up at me.
"I-" She started, removing her hand from the gun.
"Don't even start. As I see it, this could have been easily avoided had you decided to use those guns…on the right person, of course. But right now, I'm not so sure you know who's who."
She remained silent, dropping me from her sight.
I bared my teeth and almost dropped her on the spot. It would have been so easy to land one, killing blow to her face. End her life there. But that wasn't me. And it wouldn't be me. Killing someone I simply disliked wouldn't abide by my rules.
I began to walk away, ignoring her completely.
"Don't do anything stupid." She stated.
I didn't look at her, I just pressed on into the night, keeping myself while ignoring the chill of the winter night and the dance of the snowflakes on my skin. The cops ahead of me turned in fear and shame. I furrowed my brow and glared at a few of them. They weren't worth my time. I was going after him and no one was going to stop me.
Me and The Goblin would see eye-to-eye for the last time tonight.
After all, with great power comes great responsibility.
xXx
I pulled myself up to the window and stared longingly, coldly, into the office of the bastard himself: Mister Norman Osborn. The office was dark aside from the small amount of light coming from the moon behind me. In the center of the room was a pine wood desk with a fine, polish finish. The desk was barren, empty, aside from the computer in the center. The power button faintly glowed a dwindling blue color. The wind blew fiercely from my right, snow coating me from head to toe, some of the snow entering the office and melting on the hard wood floor.
The computer had been left on. He wanted me to find it. I stepped down from the window and walked towards the desk, the snow falling from my suit to the ground. Rage pushed me forward and into the desk chair. I swivelled the mouse with my right hand and watched as the computer screen flashed to life, the light leaping across my face. The screen had silver box in the center of a sea of neon blue. The silver box welcomed Osborn through electronic happiness, the black text strong against the silver backing. An empty spot for a password beneath it.
"Dammit…" I snarled, clenching my fists.
I lifted my hand to the screen and tapped each dash that indicated a missing letter. There were nine of them.
"Nine…nine…" I mumbled, leaning back in the seat, taking a second to think. "What would you use for a password, Norman?"
OSCORP INC. Nine letters. I gingerly typed in each letter, making sure my frozen fingers didn't misstep. The screen flashed, red lettering appearing beneath the entry box, telling me to keep trying. Laughing at me. My mind recalled Osborn's fiendish plan. The jealousy and hatred he developed because of me. Because of Spider-Man.
Spider-Man. Nine letters, not including the hyphen. Same as my first guess, my fingers went slowly, taking their time. I received the same results. More laughing from the computer.
I growled and turned my attention from the screen, hoping maybe the office had a hint to what I needed. I rifled through the drawers of the desk, throwing aside papers, pill bottles, photos and office supplies. Nothing. I looked behind the desk and noticed the walls on my left and my right were bookcases. The code could be anywhere over there. I picked myself up from the desk and headed towards the bookcases.
Suddenly, my brain wrestled itself from the sadness and grief I was going through, a possibility flashing across my mind. I froze halfway towards the bookcase on the right, weighting the possibility in my head. It was nine letters, it was relevant, and it was sickening. I rushed back towards the computer and hit each letter with a definite tap, the keys clicking and falling. With a shaky wrist, I hit the 'Enter' button.
The screen flashed again, the desktop appearing before me. The OSCORP logo set as his background, very few files littered its face. In the center of the screen was a file named 'HERE.' I half expected the computer to explode and bring down the whole building as I double-clicked the shortcut. It opened up to a file with just a few pictures. The pattern between them was symmetrical and I knew there was a story behind them.
A bullet. The letter 'B.' A pistol. The letter 'M.' Another bullet.
Either Norman sucked at riddles, or he wanted me to figure it out, because it took me less than a second to piece it together.
It was a reference to the beginning of the end. To the day all sense left my life.
The death of Uncle Ben and Aunt May. He was at the warehouse where I chased down their killer. The killer I prevented from escaping all because I was mad at myself.
As I left the office, back out the window I entered from, and headed towards that dreaded heap of rotted wood and rusted metal, I couldn't help but wonder why Osborn had chosen THAT as his password. Had it been his password all along or had he managed to beat me here and change it just for me.
Of all the things he could have chosen…
Why Gwen Stacy?