Chapter 1
Okay, this was an idea I had. My idea was to write my idea of Spider-man. If I'd just known the basics of the story, what would I write. The basics were:
A teenager is bitten by a radioactive spider which gives him spider based abilities and becomes a superhero after not using his abilities responsibly leads to a tragedy. He learns that With Great Power Must Also Come Great Responsibility.
Okay, one thing about that I'm changing is the radioactive spider thing. I'm changing it to a genetic engineered spider because a radioactive bite would probably give him cancer. Or, he wouldn't have gotten powers at all, and he would've just gone home and jerked it.
So, yeah. This is my story. Kinda. Y'know what I mean.
By the way, this story has nothing to do with Spider-man: New World. If you guys are looking forward to Spider-man: New World 2, it's still coming. This is what you would call a side project of mine. Or, I could somehow add this to my New World universe. Nah, two Spider-men? No. But, still, I hope you enjoy.
-Brad.
...
Kendrick Durham woke up to the sound of his alarm clock blaring. He really needed to turn down the volume on that damn thing. He pushed the button on the top, seriously trying to smash it.
Didn't work.
Shit, he thought. Better luck next time.
He got up and went to his closet. Inside, were the most expensive casual clothes money could buy. But, they were inside a crappy closet. Any money Kendrick's parents get, they blow it on buying stuff for him. He took out a shirt that had an image of Deadpool dancing with Death, and out it on. He got out his Nikes, and put those on, along with his watch.
Kendrick walked into the bathroom in his brother's dorm room of his school for "gifted" kids. And to this day, Kendrick still didn't know what that meant.
Not what the world gifted actually meant, he wasn't stupid. Far from it. He had straight A's in every class he'd ever taken (although he almost got a B+ in calculus) and was pretty well manured. But he didn't know why he was there. He was sure there were plenty of kids who deserved to be there even more than he did.
I guess the difference with them is, he thought. They didn't have the money to come here.
Kendrick walked into the bathroom and took out his toothbrush. He looked in the mirror as he brushed. He was a sixteen year old guy with a faded haircut that was low to his head. He was what would be called african-american, although he didn't care what he was called. Unless you called him the n-word, obviously. He actual preferred to be called black, since he wasn't born in Africa and doesn't understand why that's what he was labeled. (Wouldn't the correct term be brown anyway, considering nobody short of Precious is actually black.)
He wasn't necessarily skinny, but he wasn't just muscular. People said he should play basketball, but he figured that was just because he was tall and black. He was actually pretty uncoordinated, and his shot was awful, but they kept bugging him about it.
He spit out his Listorine, and walked out the bathroom. His brother, Drake, was standing there in his underwear looking like he was ready to piss his pants.
"Dude," he said. "Are you done? You been in there for five minutes! What've you been doing in there? Describing how you looked to yourself?"
"My bad," Kendrick said. "Just getting ready."
"You'll have plenty of time for that when you get back to your fancy dorm," Drake said with obvious annoyance.
And, with that, Drake walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Kendrick sighed. He'd been staying in his brother's dorm room for the past two weeks because his roommate had let his cousin stay in their dorm for whatever freakin' reason, so, instead of getting in a heated argument with his roommate, he decided to bring his black ass (or brown ass) to his brothers place along with the things he absolutely needed. Pants, some shirts, his Eminem CDs (the first three) and his lucky hat. But, today, he was moving back into his dorm room. As for the "fancy dorm," as said before, his parents spent all their money on him. They were paying their way for his education. The reason Drake seemed so annoyed by that, was because their parents didn't spend a cent to Drake's education. That's the reason Drake had what some would consider a crappy dorm. The only reason he was here is because he worked day in and day out at his job, scourging for every cent he could find. Drake was the hardest worker Kendrick knew, that was for sure. All Kendrick had to do was ask his parents for something, and they'd provide it, no question. Hell, if he asked for cocaine, he'd probably get it.
Kendrick wasn't too happy about that.
...
Tyler Farroway sat at his desk, admiring his handiwork.
He was looking at his Windows 8 laptop with a specialized program that let him test serums and medicines on the subject he choose, without having to waste money on a test animal. How it worked was, he typed in the formula for the serum and chose the subject species. Then, the machine estimated the effects of the serum on the subject with a 99.96% accuracy. And he was more than a little proud to say he designed it.
As be typed in the new formula for his super soldier serum, using neogenics, and picked out his subject, a brown jumping spider, he was listening to Michael Jackson's Thriller album. He just started listening to the late singer after his intern Kendrick Durham kept playing it over and over again. That, and Eminem and Ariana Grande.
But hey, Tyler thought. At least he doesn't play Justin Bieber.
Tyler leaned forward in his chair. The results to the test had come back.
The spider survived.
Tyler started laughing. And crying. And smiling. And yelling. All in joy.
"It...it worked," he yelled to nobody in particular. "It worked!"
He quickly pushed the button that would send the results to the genetics department, so they can create the spider. He then noticed something. On the screen, he had put in a brown spider, but now that the serum has taken effect on it, it was red and gold. Also, the spider had grown in size, by about 5%. It's legs had become more angular, and were longer. This brought one thing to Tyler's mind.
I might have just created a new species.
This was amazing. This was spectacular. This was the ultimate.
This is what scientists have been striving for, ever since man first discovered fire is some cage somewhere. To become more than a mere man.
To become God.
No, he thought. No, that's how people lost their place. That's how mistakes are made. I mean, look at Kanye West. No, don't get ahead of yourself. Just see how the test goes.
But if the test does go well, Tyler Farroway would be a very rich man. Well, richer.
...
"I just think you should be more like Kendrick," Clarissa Durham said.
"Mom," Kendrick started.
"No Kendrick," she said. "It's simply the truth."
They were at what his mommom called "family dinner." But all it really was, was just their parents telling Drake how much better Kendrick was than him. Even though, at least in Kendrick's mind, Drake was a better man than him, in every way. He was a harder worker than him, he was nicer to people, and he was smarter. The only difference was, Kendrick was younger, so they decided he was automatically better, because he was their "baby."
Whatever that meant.
"You're too nice Kendrick," his father, John Durham, said like Kendrick was a saint. "Your brother should follow your example, be more like you!"
Drake just picked at his food, not meeting anyone's eye.
"Drake is a hard worker," Kendrick said. "He does everything he does, without help. He's his own man, I'm just your baby."
"Nonsense," Clarissa said with obvious disgust at what he just said. "Why, you wouldn't have that job at Farroway Enterprises if..."
"If Dad wasn't the mayor, and he didn't just short of force Mr. Farroway to take me as his intern!"
"Enough!" Drake yelled, standing up. "I'm sick of this! I'm just so damn tired of this!"
"Don't you dare use that language in your mother's house," his Dad yelled angrily.
"Then I'll just leave then," Drake said.
Drake marched right of the house, never looking back. Without thinking, Kendrick started to follow him, ignoring the suggestions of his parents to sit down.
Kendrick followed Drake to the old park where they used to hang out as kids. Back when things were fun. Drake leaned back against a tree as some little girl ran by, being chased by her dog.
"Remember when we had a dog, Ken," Drake asked.
"Yeah," Kendrick replied. "He gave dad fleas."
Drake and Kendrick both laugh at their father's expense. Laughing like they used to. Like the good 'ol days. Then, Drake's face turned serious instantly.
"I hate them," he said with venom.
"No. No, you don't hate them," Kendrick said. "You just..."
"No, Ken, I hate them," he said. "I really truly, with every finer of my body hate them. Seriously, you're the only one I actually give two squirts a piss about."
Kendrick was silent. Then Drake pulled him in to a hug, and Kendrick hugged him back.
"I love you, man," Drake said like he was ready to burst into tears.
"I love you too," Kendrick replied wholeheartedly.
...
Kendrick was exhausted.
He was working at his job as Tyler Farroway's intern, and they'd been there for five hours straight.
Five. Freakin'. Hours.
Right now, Kendrick was cleaning out dishes and test tubes that had been previously used. On what, Kendrick had no idea. But, it wasn't his job to know, so he continued on. He then heard Dr. Farroway arguing with a man.
"What do you mean, it's escaped?!" Tyler asked, furious.
"It broke right through the glass, Tyler. There was nothing we could do," the man said frightened.
"You could've got it a stronger cage! Have you ever tried metal?! It's a beautiful thing," Tyler replied.
Kendrick zoned them out. Whatever they were talking about, it didn't concern. That is, until he looked down and saw a spider on his hand. It was freakin' huge, it was red and gold (not yellow, gold) and had long, arched legs that made the spider appear even bigger. Kendrick was so surprised by it, that he didn't really react until it bit him on his hand, making him scream.
"Kendrick? What happened to you?" Tyler asked, running in the room with a bald man with glasses.
Kendrick held up his hand, to show the spider. Both Tyler and the man looked surprised.
"It...it bit me," Kendrick said. "What is this thing?"
Before anyone can reply, Kendrick fell to the ground, flinging the spider across the room, it's destination unknown.
"Kendrick," Tyler said to the bald man. "Call an ambulance, Dr. Lance! Hurry!"
"Mr. Farroway," the man apparently named Dr. Lance said. "We have to find that spider. We know it's in this room. The child can wait, that spider is worth billi..."
"I said now!" Tyler yelled at him.
Dr. Lance stared at him tor a few seconds then went to a different room.
"It'll be okay, Kendrick," Tyler said reasuringly. "The doctor is on his way."
Tyler tried to speak, but it comes out something like: Mirna lieu many flupe.
And then everything faded to black.
...
This chapter was kinda rushed. Crap.
Hope you liked it and everything. I was thinking about changing my pen name. I wanna keep Brad in there some way, but I just wanna change it. Any ideas?
-Brad.