Death Fury: Well, I wouldn't say exactly like a Punisher Spider-Man but this is definitely a different kind of Spider-Man.

Chapter 2-1

The funeral came earlier than expected. It was Sunday, two days since the death of his father. David stood with his mother wearing black.

This is the first time I've ever been to a funeral. I've seen funerals in movies and on TV, I've heard of them through social media but this is the first time that I've been to a funeral. It feels weird and different in real life because I was attending on behalf of the person who's dead. Seeing my father in the coffin made me realize 'Wow, he really is dead and it really is my fault'. Not that I already knew that but it was becoming surreal.

The funeral director said a few words like they were supposed to do.

I'm going to miss some things about my father. I'm going to miss his cooking, his paying the bills for me, the clothes he picked out for me, the father-son advice he usually gives me, and just his presence in general. I've been used to him for so long and now that he is dead, it feels like there's a gaping hole in my life. How can I fill that gaping hole?

His mother sobbed. When he realized this, he bowed his head and put on sunglasses.

I've been commanding myself to cry on command for the last two days and it has been exhausting. At least these shades come in handy.

It was time for the family to pay respects. His mother went first. She put her hand on the coffin and bowed her head. She took her time before she walked back to her son. It was David's time to pay his respects.

David stepped forward and put a hand on the coffin.

Hey, Dad, it's your son. I do apologize for what happened, really. It's not that I feel guilty since I'm a psychopath, but lately, I've been feeling this stabbing pain in my chest. I don't know what it is and it's constantly told me to apologize. I decided that the only way for it to vanish was to do what it said so I'm here to apologize...at least in my head.

He bowed his head.

It's my fault that you're dead, Dad. I remember the night you died when you were shot and holding my hand, you told me that you love me. I didn't know what to do but I always knew that in the final moments of a person's life, you are to tell them the truth no matter what but I could not think of any good reason not to tell you a lie that would make you feel better. After all, who would want to die peacefully after their only son said something like 'I never loved you'?

He took his hand back.

I'll be leaving you now, Dad. I promise that I will love no one else's cooking other than yours.

Monday

It's been about three days since his father died. Life returned to normal as far as David knew. He just got on with his life and just went with the flow. He finished homework on time and put on a sad face, which was a real chore considering that he was emotionless and his sadness was artificial. His face hurt from using the same face for too long... again.

It was the last class of the day, Forensic Science, his favorite subject, and the only class he even gave a shit about. He turned in his forensic pop quiz and when he got the test back, he was shocked to discover he got a perfect 100% on the test.

Forensics is the only class I'll give a damn about getting a good grade in.

When he was minding his business around the classroom for the last five minutes of class, people stopped him and asked him if he was feeling alright. He kept constantly putting on his false face and pausing to imitate sadness whenever he spoke.

His best friend, Eddie, came over and he put a hand on David's shoulder and asked in a calming voice, "Are you okay? I'm sorry about your father."

You're going to be sorry if you don't leave me alone about the same thing over and over again.

"I'm fine," David said, "I promise."

My face isn't fine.

"I promise, Davey," Eddie began reassuring, "As long as I'm here, you'll always have someone to talk to."

That's probably the gayest thing I've ever heard.

"Thanks," David said and patted Eddie on the hand.

"You'll always have a shoulder to lean on."

I didn't think this conversation could get any gayer.

"No offense, but I don't think your skinny body can support my weight."

"That's why I see a future of mine with me in weightlifting class.

Felicia then walked towards David with an emotionless look on her face. David broke his artificial sad look and smirked briefly. "David," she said, "I'm sorry about your father."

I miss my father, I guess, but me getting a one hundred on the forensic pop quiz and having Felicia talk to me in one day? I'm starting to wonder if being smart with a touch of personal tragedy is enough to make one famous. I'm famous at Midtown High and I love it.

"Thanks," David said, putting his sad face back on before Felicia could spot, "It looks like I won't get to meet your father now," he said slowly, "But you would've loved my Dad; he was a good man."

"I'll leave you guys," Eddie said before returning to where he was sitting to talk with Anne.

"I'm glad you didn't meet my Dad," Felicia said, "He is not nice to boys around his only girl." She looked at him hard. "I wanted to wait until you were alone but I know you're putting on a facade."

"What do you mean?"

"The sadness, while it may be real, the facial expressions are fake. The facial expressions you are pulling have to be practiced in front of a mirror. I can tell by your face that you are in pain."

If you only knew….and you seem to know.

"However you may see it," David began as he sat down on his desk with one leg up on his chair, "I can't physically express what I'm feeling. I've never faced a tragedy like this in forever and in real life, it's not like those movies where the character cries his eyes out. I don't care what you think, I miss my father and I don't care what other people say." He changed his mind and stood up to face Felicia. "To insinuate that I am faking my grief is one of the lowest things you can ever say, Felicia. How would you feel if your father died and I said that your emotions or facial expressions are fake? You wouldn't like it and I don't appreciate it so the next time you mention my father, you better have something positive to say or you will regret it."

Felicia flinches. "I'm sorry," she says, sounding genuine with her words.

"Oh, so you are capable of remorse, thank the fucking lord." He narrows his eyes at her. "I'll forgive you this time."

She may have hit the nail on the head and how she figured me out intrigues me greatly... but she can definitely be a bitch.

The bell rang, saving David once again. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "If you'll excuse me, I have a grieving mother to get home to and comfort. And I'm not comforting her to blend in."

David steps out of the classroom and walks with the crowd to get out to the parking lot. He had every intention of walking home like a regular human but when he stepped outside, he saw the car of his psychiatrist, Dr. Barton Hamilton, parked in the front.

He walked to the car and Hamilton stepped out of the driver's seat.

"David," he called as he walked around the car to put a hand on David's shoulder, "I heard about your father. It's a tragedy what happened to him."

David touched Hamilton's hand softly. "Thank you," he said.

"I don't want to sound cruel or anything," he began, "But what was your reaction? Your mother told me that you were with him when you died. Did you feel anything different or did you feel emptiness like you always say that you have."

David clutches his heart area like he's having a heart attack. "To be honest, I felt something in my heart on three occasions. I thought that I ate something bad that caused heartburns but it wasn't that. I felt like there was a knife in my heart and I couldn't pull it out."

Hamilton studied the teenager and silently nodded to his words. "I know that you can't understand emotions but I think this is a sign."

"Of what? From God? I think you should know that I'm an atheist, doc."

Hamilton shook his head. "I think you've felt emotions for the first time."

David's eyes widened. "What? But I've been a psycho -" he healed when he realized that people surrounded him, "I've been 'empty' since I was born. I can't feel sadness or anything for that matter."

"That's what you always tell yourself but deep down, every human has emotions. You don't feel them like we do. You could say that your emotions are buried under five layers of nothingness. No matter how deep you bury the knife in the sand it is still present. You were used to seeing your father every day of your life for the past fifteen years. When anybody has something taken from them that they've been used to for a long time, they will feel like a part of them is missing. I think that the death of your father brought out an emotion that has been dormant within you for a long time: Sadness."

I guess it makes sense but if that is what sadness feels like then I wish I was born without emotions, period. I don't like this stabbing feeling in my chest and I would give anything to make it go away but it is persistent like a motherfucker.

"I want you to know that I'm here for you, Davey," Hamilton said, "Remember, I've been with you since you were a young boy. You are like family to me and I will always be here for you."

Oh good, you'll be here for the next time I ever need you. I've always been trying to come up with ways to get the good doctor in my pocket but this tragedy makes things easier. I got my psychologist owing me a favor or willing to get something for me... nice.

Hamilton dropped David off at his home. He did the polite thing of welcoming Hamilton into his home and he greeted his mother. David didn't want to hear any of the conversations and he went upstairs. He kept a hand on his heart area as he locked himself in his room. There was that girl in the other house who was sitting and listening to music on her bed but David wasn't interested in a peepshow. He closed the curtains and sat on his bed. He stayed quiet for about ten minutes before something came to his head.

He reached under his bed to pull out a shoebox that he had hidden from his parents. He opened it and there were several Playboy magazines but they were placed on the surface so that when someone went snooping, their curiosity would be satisfied with porn magazines.

It's just a front, like the one I put on every day so people won't see that I'm different.

The real thing he was hiding in his suitcase was a camcorder with several tapes with labels relating to emotions like 'Happy Face', 'Sad Face', and 'Crying Face'. He turned on the camcorder and watched the 'Sad Face' tape. He watched a ten-minute tape of a little girl crying at a birthday party. It was from a couple of years ago when he was in the single digits age and accepted an invitation to a girl's party so that he'd blend in. His father gave him the camera and told him to record the reactions of kids around him so he would get an idea of how to blend in. He obeyed and recorded a video of a girl crying over getting a bad toy for her birthday and throwing a fit.

If this girl is sad, then I know only one-sixteenth of what she is feeling. At one point, I wanted to be human, like everyone else, but if this is the first time I'm feeling sad, I don't want to be human anymore. I'd rather be the psychopath I was born to be and was born as.

Because he loved his mother in his own way, he did not detect any bad aura when Misa entered the room and looked at David analyzing the tapes.

"You still have that camera?"

David froze.

"Dr. Hamilton talked to me and he told me that you felt emotions for the first time," she continued, "If your father was alive, he would've been proud of you."

What is this new feeling that is arising within me? Is it another form of feeling guilt or is it something else entirely?

"Dad is dead because of me," David suddenly said, "It's my fault Dad is dead."

Why did I say that? I must be insane, now she'll hate me forever. But then again, when did I care about her hating me? She's not going to hate me, as a parent, she has an obligation to love me unconditionally. But if she hates me, it'll be much harder to make her make my life easier.

Misa hugged her son tightly in her arms.

"No matter what happens, I'll always forgive you," she whispered in his ear. She kisses him on the cheek.

"How could you forgive me?" David asked, confusing himself in the process, "Not that I'm asking for forgiveness but I had a chance to prevent Dad's death from happening, and had I seized the chance, he would've been alive today."

"It doesn't matter," she insisted.

"The last conversation we had was about him telling me he loved me. I told him that since I didn't love him back then he shouldn't love me. I threw his innocent words right in his face because I was being selfish."

"The fact that you're telling me what happened proved that you're not as bad as you think. If you were a true psychopath then you would've kept everything to yourself and not feel a shred of remorse. You are becoming human, Davey and your father believed in you. No matter what happens, I know you'll make your father proud. I'm proud of you after all, no matter what you say or what you think. I'll always love my little boy." She kisses him again in the temple before she leaves the room.

David rubs his temple in shock, one of the few emotions he can feel.

She kissed me on the temple and forgave me, even though I killed Dad. I don't understand. Why would she still love me even though I admitted to killing my father? Why didn't she call the police to arrest me? Why didn't she scream that she never loved me at all? Why didn't she slap me across the face? Why did she tell me that she loved me, even though I never deserved any love, to begin with? Why did she say the same thing that Dad said? Why does she continue to love me...even though I can't love her back?

David puts the camcorder on his desk and shoves the shoebox and magazines under his bed. He closes his door before heading to his desk and pulling out another suitcase. This time, it was the drawings of his costumes he drew for the fight. He also spotted the outfit he wore when he fought the three fighters in the ring and chased down his father's killer.

He removes the black henley with red tape from the suitcase and holds it up to his face. He studies it hard before he places it down at his feet. He opens his journal to the drawing of his favorite costume.

He looks back at the camcorder and plays the video of someone grieving over a lost relative.

If what I'm feeling is dialed up to eleven when I'm human then I don't want to be human. For the first time in David Dante's history, I don't want people to feel grief. For some reason, I want to kill all the people who took away their loved ones because I feel one-sixteenth of what these people are feeling.

He looks down at the spider symbol he drew on his costume.

I have superpowers, a desire for justice, and personal tragedy. I sound just like a superhero.

His eyes widened and he licked his lips.

That sounds like a good idea indeed.

He removes the carjacker's gun from under his bed. He carefully removed the firing pin and each bullet one by one, rendering the gun incapable of firing. He grabs the gun on both ends and he snaps the gun in half. He picks up a very small piece of the gun the size of an earbud and holds it up. He heads into his closet and removes a small sandwich bag. He drops the small gun part in the bag and seals it up tightly. He holds up the bag and inspects it with a smirk on his face.

You're going to be the first of the many trophies I'm going to collect.

Elsewhere, with Jack Hamilton

Parking Lot, Empire State University

About half an hour after his lunch break was over, a man stood up from his table and quickly went over to his van. After making sure that the van was loaded with equipment he was going to be working on later, he slammed the doors shut and turned around. Barton Hamilton was standing in front of him.

"Barton," the man addressed his brother, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm doing well, Jack, thanks for asking," Hamilton snarked, "I was dropping off a friend of mine from school and I wanted to see my little brother. How's the genetics department at ESU been treating you?"

"Not well," Jack said before slamming the doors shut. "I think I'm missing a spider from the job fair at ESU and to add insult to injury, our funding is threatening to be pulled."

"What do you mean?"

Jack sighed before walking to the front of the van. "The military is funding us - me - for a serum we've been working on called Performance Enhancers. The whole project is about increasing human potential. These spiders in the back of my van are part of the Performance Enhancer Project. I didn't do the spider experiment but my cohorts did. They genetically encoded different spider species into one to test artificial evolution. After genetically engineering the spiders into unique species, they used them as guinea pigs. The serum we've been ordered to make is going to the military, it's supposed to enhance a person's physical strength, speed, and intelligence. Eightfold."

"Enhance one's intelligence?"

"Well, at the very least, help them understand things at a lightning-fast rate. In theory, they could read an entire book on theories by Albert Einstein once and understand the contents on a genius level."

"So... if you teach this genetically enhanced person about how to build certain things..."

"Let them experiment, they can comprehend details fast, and they should be able to become engineer prodigies."

"Nice. Imagine if you gave an already smart person this serum. And how's it going so far?"

"Bullshit," Jack said, "Maybe not the right word but experiments are costing us a fortune. We have only enough money for one human trial and the military keeps pushing us but with the limited budget, we're running out of money and nobody wants to volunteer."

"Why?"

"When we experimented on these spiders in the back of my van, one of them went crazy, actually tried to smash through the glass box but even with its enhancement, it was unable to but did leave a faint crack behind. It's like it was thirsty for human blood because it froze whenever we got near the box, scientist or human in general."

"So a side effect is bloodlust?"

"Not bloodlust, just enhanced behavioral traits. Enhanced emotional behavioral traits. The spider with the bloodlust happened to be genetically engineered from the most aggressive spider species and the other spiders were at worst, indifferent, and at best, passive." Jack sighed. "The military has us on a tight leash. With a limited budget, limited time, and no volunteers, we're up a creek without a paddle." Jack opened the driver's door and climbed in. Hamilton climbed into the passenger's seat and turned to his brother.

"I told you to become a psychological doctor but you had to be a scientist doctor," Hamilton said, "I have a temperament that you don't have."

"Temperament doesn't matter in this day and age. I think I'll resign before I'm fired. I'd rather go out with my dignity than anything else."

"That's not unlike you." Hamilton became agitated. "You always were a quitter and I'm speaking as your brother rather than a shrink. But after coming so far, all those years studying to be a geneticist, you can't give up."

"I'll turn in my resume in the morning and then I'll be on my way; I'll look for another job. I mean, I'm already a part-time lawyer so -"

"How about I help you?" Hamilton offered, "I can help you with your research."

"I don't think there's anything you can do," Jack said before starting the van. "I have to get back to work, for the last time. I'll see you when I see you."

"I volunteer."

Jack looked at him with a curious look. He narrowed his eyes. "What is that supposed to mean? You 'volunteer'?"

"I volunteer for human trials."

Jack's eyes widened and his grip on the wheel tightened. "I don't think you seem to grasp the danger of this experiment. One spider went through the Performance Enhancer trial and suffered a bloodlust desire. That on a human…"

"I'm not a violent person and I'm willing to take that risk," he insisted, "science demands sacrifice. Progress demands sacrifice. If this works, then humans can evolve into something greater."

"That's always been the point but you're my little brother!"

"I'm aware of that fact." Hamilton sighed deeply as if contemplating his decision. "Family takes care of each other, but the work you're doing is bigger than either of us. When's your deadline?"

"Three days."

"In three days, the military will see the results of your Human Performance Enhancers and when they see that they're been no human trials, your funding will be pulled."

"I don't care about the military, you're my little brother." Jack almost cried. "I'm supposed to take care of you, not the other way around."

"Don't be a coward," Hamilton almost hissed, "you said it yourself that what you're doing is for humanity and I will be a guinea pig if it means a better future for humanity."

"You're not a guinea pig, you're my brother."

"And that's why I'm volunteering for free," he said, "Have there been any recorded deaths in the experiments."

"No, but we haven't even experimented on rodents."

"Good, then there's a high chance that I'll survive and if I survive without any symptoms, the Performance Enhancers are a success. If not, then I'll suffer from the side effects and you can study me. Once the military sees that you have made it to human trials, they'll likely give your genetics department a second chance."

"I can't do this for the reason I keep saying: You're my brother. If anything, I should be taking your place in volunteering."

"Absurd," Hamilton scoffed, "You're the genetic researcher, you need to record the data, not me."

"I could never live with myself if something bad happened to you and I allowed it."

"Either way, I'm not changing my mind. I volunteer for the human trials and-"

"When you make a decision," Jack groaned, "You never change your mind. That's what you said when you became a psychologist in the first place. It's the motto you tell your patients to live by."

"You understand, no matter what, I won't change my mind. If I don't experiment with you, I'll march straight down to ESU and volunteer with the staff. I'm sure they'll be more agreeable. If anything, I'd rather experiment with my big brother."

Jack's grip was tightened to the point the wheel would've crushed. His brother had him and he knew it. One of the few times he wished he was never a genetics researcher.

"Fine…"

"Besides, if at worst, it only enhances emotional behavioral traits, then what's the worst that could happen? Haven't you ever wondered what was lurking inside you the entire time, Jack?"

Empire State University, with Barton Hamilton

Only twelve hours had passed since Hamilton had met with his brother at the parking lot. Empire State University closed at midnight and most of the staff had gone home. Some were taking the night shift but the genetics department was shut down until morning came. It was three in the morning and the Hamilton brothers were in one of the labs with a single security guard watching over them. Jack took Barton to the lab and showed him around briefly but he was mainly stalling for time by ranting about possible consequences.

"Dr. Hamilton," Jack began, "I've said it a billion times, I'll say it another, please reconsider. Or, at the very least, let me get a medical staff in here."

"We've come this far already," Hamilton said as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt."If we back out now, then everything you've worked for will be done and over with."

"I guess that you are right," Jack said. "What do I do?"

Hamilton pointed to a cabinet. "Open that up and look for a vial that says 'Prochlorperazine'."

Jack reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle full of a clear liquid. "I'm assuming it's this. What is this?"

"It begins catalyzation when the vapor hits the blood."

Jack shook his head. "I don't have the faintest idea of what that means."

Hamilton looked at his brother suspiciously. "You're suddenly acting out of character."

Jack looked at him with furrowed brows. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing." Hamilton took the bottle and drank the whole thing. "That tasted horrible. Now, let's get the serum ready."

Jack nodded before heading over to the computer to type something in. He reaches over to the same cabinet and pulls out a vial of green liquid labeled 'PERFORMANCE'.

"I've seen this being tested several times," Jack pointed out. "I've even been told to assist in some experiments since I'm always in the room."

Hamilton removed his shirt. He climbed into a chamber for vapor inhalation and stood in the center.

Jack places the vial inside a tube connecting to the chamber before returning to the computer.

He pulled the activation command on the computer. He looked at Hamilton and sighed. He pulls up Hamilton's body readings so he can keep track of his body's enhancement during the process. He presses a button to turn on a speaker in the chamber.

"This is your last chance for real this time. What happens afterward is permanent."

"Do it," Hamilton said without hesitation.

Jack pressed a green button on the side of his computer. This allowed the ventilation system within the chamber to open up and allow green smoke to fill the chamber.

Hamilton inhaled deeply before relaxing his muscles. He looked at Jack one last time. The vapor was already at his feet. His brother's face was the last thing he saw before the vapor enclosed him.

Jack turned towards the chamber, staring with intensity. He looked at the computer to watch the results play out. His physical strength had increased by eight hundred percent, the muscles growing inside his body

There was an emergency button next to the green button that he kept his hand on just in case. He licked his lips as he kept his eyes on the computer.

Hamilton's body was still undergoing a physical transformation but it was taking quite a long time. The green smoke had covered up everything in the chamber so he could only watch the progress from the computer.

It's been two minutes and nothing has happened so far. Jack kept switching between looking at the computer. The more time that passed, the denser the color of the vapor seemed but after a few seconds, the vapor lost its color and turned back into a natural white color but even Jack still could not see inside the chamber.

He turns back to the computer and presses the off button.

He waited two minutes for the vapor to dissipate completely before he opened the chamber and went in. Jack saw his Hamilton standing in the middle of the chamber, looking physically normal except for a bulkier body. His eyes gazed towards his face and he could tell that the patient was staring into...nothingness. His eyes were blank. Whiteout blank.

"Barton," Jack called out. He got no response so he turned to the microphone to speak. Once all the vapor drains out of the chamber, he opens the door and climbs inside to see for himself.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked.

Hamilton stayed frozen in the center.

Jack called his name again, his voice trembling as he put a shaky hand to his bare chest. Jack's lips quivered as he feared the worst but he mellowed somewhere after feeling a calm heartbeat. A split second later, the calm heartbeat spiked with adrenaline.

Hamilton grabs Jack by the throat with both hands and yanks him close so that their faces are almost touching.

"A critical success," Hamilton said in a low voice with a devious smile.

A/N: David will become Spider-Man in the next chapter.