Chapter Twelve – Identity Crisis

My phone vibrated. I took a look at my biophysics professor, who was busy explaining how proline isomerization led to a slowdown of protein folding, and slipped the cell from my jean pocket. I unlocked it and felt a strange sense of disappointment as I read Flash's name rather than Cat's. I pushed the momentary dismay aside and swiped to view the message. A group of them were meeting for lunch during the break between lectures in the canteen. I replied a quick thumbs up and refocused my attention on the riveting topic of amino acids. The clock ticked by until eventually the room was full of the noise of chairs moving and things being packed into bags.

As I walked into the canteen I joined the line for food and scanned the large room. I spotted Flash sat on the far side of the hall, and saw the backs of Liz and Harry on the same table. After paying for my plate of fries and drink I made a beeline towards them, clapping Flash on the back as I took the empty seat next to him.

"How was learning about dead white men?" I asked him before pushing a handful of fries in my mouth. I was starving.

"Amazing." Flash replied dryly. "Do you know how complicated the French Revolution is?"

"Not a clue, please tell us." Harry responded sarcastically, a black coffee in his hand.

"It's got barely any singing in it." Flash stole a fry from my plate. "Les Mis lied to me."

"What?" Liz said in faux shock, her mouth agape. "Next you'll be telling us Hugh Jackman and the girl from Mamma Mia wasn't actually there." Flash stuck his middle finger up at her, which elicited a smirk from Liz.

"Both Betty and Ned at the Bugle today?" Harry asked.

I nodded. I wasn't in until later in the week, but since the pair of them were majoring in journalism they had the misfortune of being in the office three days a week, with the last two being in lectures. They both really wanted that job JJ was offering. It could be decent, I suppose, but definitely wasn't something for me.

"So you meeting this new girl of yours tonight?" Liz asked. I looked up quickly, but then realised she was speaking to Harry.

"Maybe. Not heard from her since she cancelled on me yesterday."

"You messaged her?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Harry said bluntly.

"You're unbelievable." Liz sighed.

Flash had a small mischievous smile on his face. "How about bringing her to Brian's party this weekend?"

Harry responded with a small smile of his own. "She'll probably be there. We can't make anything official yet though, she has some shit of her own to sort out first."

"You into her then?" I asked. I'd expected Liz to push the topic further, but she seemed engrossed in her phone.

"I was in her a few nights ago." Harry winked, then flinched away from Liz, expected a punch to his arm to be on its way. The punch never came. "You okay Elizabeth?"

She was absorbed in her phone, then looked up at Flash and I. "The Bugle has just released a story about Spider-Man."

I prepared myself for this new stream of abuse that JJ had come up with. "What's he done now? Kill a puppy? Hosted a torrent-sharing website?" I joked.

"They know who he is." Liz said. "Why didn't you tell us Pete?"

My blood ran cold. There was no way the Bugle could know I was Spider-Man. It was impossible. I racked my brain for an answer, but none came.

"What do you mean?" Flash said, and she offered her phone to the blond basketballer. He took it and scrolled through it. "Bullshit. I knew him all through high school and there's no way he's Spider-Man."

I took the phone from and read the headline:

BUGLE EXCLUSIVE – SPIDER-MAN'S IDENTITY REVEALED.

In an exclusive scoop obtained from our very own Edward Brock the Daily Bugle can reveal that the identity of the wallcrawling menace who had been terrorising the city with false heroisms for the last six years is Seymour O'Riley. O'Riley, former student at Midtown High School, is now currently employed by the Delmar Insurance Company. We have reached out to Delmar for comment but have had no response. We can only assume that O'Riley and the Delmar Insurance Company are working together in a money laundering scheme, explaining exactly why Spider-Man causes so much damage in his pretend crusade for justice.

I passed the phone back to Liz as I felt my heart relax and my breathing come back under control. "What do you mean why didn't I tell you?" I couldn't help snapping at Liz.

"You're mentioned in the article?" Liz replied. She showed me the mention, but it was merely crediting me for a picture which they had used.

"For a photo." I explained. "Just because they used my phot doesn't mean they had to tell me what they were using it for. The Bugle owns the pictures."

"I see it." Harry said, stealing now cold fries from my plate. I pushed them towards the middle of the table: I had lost my appetite. "Seymour did always make a lot of jokes."

"Yeah, remember how when we were sophomores Spider-Man seemed to be in Queens a lot more than the rest of New York? Checks out since Seymour was in school with us."

"Nah, I don't believe it." Flash said dismissively.

"Don't get upset since your friend didn't tell you he was your crush." Harry cooed.

Flash shook his head again. Seymour was in the group Flash hung out with in high school, along with Tiny McKeever and Jason Ionello. The four of them were in the school's boxing team, as well as the basketball squad. "I'm not in denial. I'm outright denying it. O'Riley was an idiot. There's no way he could be Spider-Man."

"Maybe he was good at hiding it?" I asked.

"Definitely not. Besides remember that day when Rhino trashed Washington Square?" We nodded; I certainly remembered that day… "Spider-Man came and beat him but O'Riley was right there next to me watching." He pulled his phone out and scrolled furiously then dropped it on the table for us all to look at. "See." On the screen was an image of a sixteen year old Flash, Seymour, and Jason with Rhino webbed up and unconscious in the background.

"Yeah yeah detective, I guess you're right." Liz mumbled. "I wonder who gave the Bugle the information." Harry said absentmindedly.

"Say's Eddie got the scoop." Flash pointed out referring to the article. "He'll probably be at Brian's this weekend. We can ask him."

Harry looked notably irritated. "Hope he's not there. Guy's a waster." Harry stood to his feet. "I'm heading back to my lecture."

"We still have ten minutes." Liz called after him as he walked towards where his psychology seminar was. He waved his hand dismissively.

"Wonder what's got into him." Flash said aloud.

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I spied the thugs on the streets below. They were Maggia members. It was early evening, the sun only just having set. Harry was out at his not-quite-girlfriend's so I could escape into the night a lot quicker. I stretched my new white-striped arms out and swung down silently to the street. All three men were wrapped up in coats, gloves, and hats; I could see their breath steaming into the air as they breathed. I tapped the closest on the shoulder, who turned to face me.

"Is there a toilet around here?" I asked. Before he could scream I sent my elbow into his forehead, hearing a crack as he dropped to the ground. The other two turned to face me, but I was already on the closest before he could act, kicking him in the stomach winding him. I thwipped a web at the third and dragged him off balance, forcing him to fumble his gun, before focusing my attention back on the winded figure. I jumped and connected my foot to his shoulder, breaking his collarbone and sending him headfirst into the wall with a satisfying bang as he slumped to the floor. Turning back to the last figure I webbed him towards me and held him up against the wall.

"Your boss. Information. Now."

The man looked terrified. "Looks like the information was right." He stammered.

"What do you mean?" I demanded, slamming him once more into the wall.

"The Maggia has a present for you in Central Park."

I knocked him unconscious and jumped into the air, rushing to the park. It was a trap for sure, but Hammerhead was about to realise he was the prey. It took me twenty minutes before I was perched on the side of the San Remo surveying the open woodland of New York's Central Park. I focused my senses and was sure I could see movement near to the Bethesda Fountain. Made sense – open space where I couldn't sneak up well. I leapt off the building and propelled myself to the ground, then used the trees to change my trajectory. Even if I couldn't sneak up there was no reason I had to keep them waiting. I landed on the terrace to the alarm of the group of thugs.

"Hi fellas, is this where I can score some weed?"

Three guns were suddenly trained on me, but already prepared for this I webbed them from their hands, then swung them back round to hit them. Two of the men dropped to the floor as the heavy metal weapons swung above them, but the last wasn't as lucky and took the hit to the side, collapsing to the ground in a heap. Before the men could stand I was already on them, sweeping the one man's legs and following the attack with a burst of webbing to fix him to the ground. I grabbed the final man.

"So where's this surprise for me?" I growled.

The man didn't speak, but his head turned in the direction of the Bethesda Fountain. I focused my eyes, and I saw a figure, seemingly tied to the central structure of the water feature. I dropped the man to the ground, and he scrambled to his feet and began to run as I walked slowly to the monument. My heart was beating faster and faster as I approached the fountain, the water in the basin a pale crimson colour.

"No." I whispered to myself.

Tied with thick rope to the central structure was the body of Seymour O'Riley, his face pale and face construed in a look of terror. There was a large gash along his neck, his chest and clothes under it stained with dark red blood. The breath left my lungs as I approached the red water and stepped into it towards the lifeless body. A piece of paper was pinned to Seymour's chest with a sharp knife – there was writing on it: 'IN MEMORY OF THE SILVERMANE'. I fell to my knees as emotions swelled inside me. First sadness. Then confusion.

Now just anger.

The last thing I remembered was turning, scanning the horizon for the man who was running. I spotted him off in the distance as my rage overwhelmed me.

Song Recommendation: It Was Written In Blood - Bring Me The Horizon