TRIGGER WARNING: RAPE AND SEXUAL ASSAULT DISCUSSION!
Gwen's body froze as she gazed into the eyes of the person in front of her, her mind scrambling to process it. What she was looking at, the person she was seeing... it was impossible.
"This is a trick," she finally spoke up.
"I wish it was," the woman replied; despite her confusion, the sadness in the girl's tone didn't escape Gwen's notice.
"What are you?" Gwen asked. "Are you a shapeshifter?"
"No," the woman replied.
"Did he force you to have some kind of plastic surgery?" Gwen questioned.
"No," the lady replied. "I am exactly what I said, Gwen: I'm YOU. We share the same face, the same hair, the same skin, the same everything, all the way down to our DNA."
Gwen dared to come a little closer to the woman. As she continued to gaze upon her, an idea entered her mind, a strange, seemingly impossible and terrible idea that somehow appeared to be the only explanation left.
"He... he cloned me."
"And I'm the result," the girl replied with a shrug.
"That's..."
"...impossible?" the girl finished her sentence. "Unfortunately, not anymore."
Gwen glanced down; if her mind was struggling before, now it seemed to be completely overloaded by this revelation. What was she feeling right now? What SHOULD she be feeling right now?
"Please, for both our sakes, just give him whatever he wants," the woman spoke up. "You'll be safe then."
"Safe?" Gwen questioned somewhat incredulously. "What about this is sa..."
Gwen paused, the conclusion to her sentence failing to emerge as she caught a glimpse of what looked like part of a large bruise on the girl's arm, the rest covered by her sleeve. She reached to examine it, but the clone pulled her arm back, sliding the sleeve down a little further to hide it.
"What did he do to you?" Gwen asked. She wasn't sure she was even ready to hear the answer, but her curiosity and concern got the best of her anyway. The clone wiped her nose, still not looking Gwen in the eyes as she finally answered:
"From the moment I was... created, I guess, he made it clear that I belonged to him. He said that I was the pinnacle of his work, the best thing he ever made. However, as I started to think about who I was, what I was, I realized that I wanted more. I had all your memories... but I wasn't you. I wanted to go and figure out who I was and how I fit into this world, but he wouldn't have it. He said I only existed to please him. When I said no, he... he hit me. He would take me to his bedroom and..."
The clone began to tear up, the words catching in her throat, but Gwen's mind put the rest together, her eyes widening as a horrifying, unholy truth came to her mind.
"He raped you."
The woman nodded, barely able to fight the tears anymore.
"He was so rough, almost violent," she said, the words seemingly taking force to come out now. "He told me that he needed to figure out how to do it perfectly for... and that to do that, I needed to give it my all. He threatened to kill me, told me that I was expendable, and he could always make another. So, I tried to do what he asked. I took it and tried to give him what he wanted in return. It seemed to work for a while, but he would still hit me if I ever did anything that would displease him. Eventually, it got to where I was either in his bedroom with him or down here, locked away like some kind of creature!"
Gwen was starting to feel as though she could throw up. Maybe for the first time since laying eyes on her, she was starting to see her clone not just as some scientific fascination, but as a real person. All the heinous things that she'd described just now, the physical and emotional abuse she'd endured since her creation was making Gwen's stomach turn and her blood boil hot with righteous anger. At the same time, she was also still in shock; to think that a man she'd once held so much respect for could be capable of such deep-seeded malevolence...
However, there was something that the woman had started to say before she'd carried on, something that was filling her mind and body with yet another tumultuous emotion: guilt.
"You said he felt he needed to do it perfectly... you were starting to say for ME, weren't you?"
The woman looked down again for a moment before looking back up at Gwen.
"I'm sorry," she said, her words almost a plea now. "I didn't want you think it was your fault, because it's not! Please, Gwen, forgive me, I didn't mean to..."
"It's okay," she spoke up, the words just kind of stumbling out of her mouth. Gwen then got up, wandering over to the front of the enclosure. Her gaze went downward and to the side, the woman not even paying attention to what she was looking at. Instead, her mind swirled as it raced to properly process the series of revelations she'd been hit with: Doctor Warren, her professor, one whom she'd looked up to, had apparently believed himself to be in love with her and had literally created a copy of her just to be able to "practice" having sex with to as to properly "please" her when they were finally together. To that end, he'd tortured and abused his creation, leaving her a scarred and damaged figure without any sense of identity or belonging.
Frankly, this was worse than any nightmare Gwen could have ever imagined, and she had no idea how she was going to escape it. Even if she did have an idea, she couldn't let leave the girl here to suffer further still at the doctor's hands.
"Peter," she muttered. "Find me, please..."
Sneaking in through the back, Peter came up front to find May in the living room, eating her usual cereal breakfast while watching her favorite morning programming.
"Good morning, May!" he said cheerfully, coming up from behind to kiss her on the cheek.
"Good morning!" she replied as she chuckled with glee from the surprise. The sound warmed Peter's heart; at least something seemed to be going well right now.
"I'm heading out for work; I'll see you later, alright?" he said as he was already making his way towards the door.
"Oh, um, okay," May replied, seemingly a little caught off guard. "Have a good day!"
"You too!" Peter called out just as the door shut behind him. From there, he broke into a run as he headed for the nearest abandoned area to change back into Spider-Man. He'd been fortunate that his plan had still worked; he'd been out all night long searching for Gwen but had still lost track of the time to where May would usually get up. He was lucky that their back door didn't make so much as a tiny squeak when it was opened.
Now though, he needed to get back to it; Gwen was still missing, and Peter wouldn't rest until he had found her. He'd spent most of the night searching every area that he could possibly remember Gwen ever going to that her father had not already searched. When that had proved fruitless, he'd shifted gears towards the possibility that one of his enemies had potentially discovered his identity, and thus was using her to get to him. He'd only ever hit up low level spots, but the criminals he'd questioned there (under the guise of simply following a "missing persons case") seemed to know nothing at all. However, there was one place that he could hit up that, if anyone knew anything about Gwen's whereabouts, it would be there: The Bar With No Name.
This wasn't just some random criminal hangout though; the Bar With No Name was a spot where anything from small timers to gang leaders to supervillains gathered for a drink. Basically, it was a watering hole for the worst kinds of people the city had to offer. Peter knew this wasn't exactly the kind of place where Spider-Man would be welcomed with open arms; he'd been in there only once before much earlier in his career and had barely made it out alive after a fight that lasted almost a full day. He saw no other choice though, feeling as though he'd exhausted almost every other option. Tracking Gwen down via a device or by checking landmarks had proven worthless, and he hadn't gotten answers anywhere else either.
Finally coming to an abandoned building, Peter ducked inside and quickly removed his clothes in favor of his Spider-Man costume, hoping desperately for a change in his luck.
The man suddenly squatted down, clutching his head in pain. For a moment, just a moment, he could see someone... a dark-haired woman, and a tall, large man...
"Is it happening again?"
"Y-yes..." the figure moaned, still clutching his head. "It hurts..."
"We better get you to your treatment again," the doctor recommended. "It sounds like we may need to up the dosage."
No sooner had the doctor finished saying those words than the images ceased, the pain beginning to subside as they did.
"I think it's past now," he said, finally removing his hands from his head.
"Still, we better proceed with your latest round of treatment, just to be safe," the doctor insisted, helping him to his feet.
"Why does this keep happening to me, doc?" the man questioned. "And who are these people that I keep seeing?"
"I'm not sure," the doctor said. "Those people experimented on you for a long time; you could be seeing flashes of their faces from your time in their lab."
"I don't think so," the man replied, trying to sort through the foggy images he'd just witnessed. "They seemed... friendly."
"Perhaps they deceived you," the doctor hypothesized. "Come, let's get you in your containment chamber."
The doctor took the man by the arm to lead him towards it, but he jerked away.
"No! I don't need any more treatments; what I need is answers; you promised me answers, doc!"
"And I will deliver on my word," the doctor insisted. "But in the meantime, these headaches your experiencing will only get worse unless we continue your regimen. Please, for your own sake, come. Rest assured, I will help you find the answers you seek once we complete your treatment, but for now, you must trust me."
The man looked down, pondering his options. The treatments that the doctor had been subjecting him to recently had seemingly begun to lose their effectiveness; if anything, these headaches, and the accompanying images he was seeing in his mind when they occurred, were only getting more frequent and more intense, though they still did a good job of staving them off for a time. He was growing frustrated though; part of him was beginning to wonder if these images that he had really were memories, perhaps of his former life before whatever those scientists had done to him. Whatever they were, the man wanted answers, and soon.
Unfortunately, he still couldn't see any other way of getting them, so he decided it was best to comply with the doctor's orders. He rose up and walked towards the containment chamber, stepping inside. It then sealed him in, the doctor manipulating everything from a nearby control panel. He nodded to the man, though he drew less comfort from the gesture than he normally did.
Soon, it mattered little, as a gas entered the chamber, and the man's eyes shut, the world growing dark as he entered a state of rest.
Releasing his web, Peter landed on the side of the building known as the Bar With No Name. Coming around to the front, he observed the entrance area; he knew that the door only opened after a scan was complete of the individual seeking to enter, the person needing to be enlisted in a large database to gain access. Granted, he could just bust the door down, but that would likely set off alarms and start a fight before he could even ask any questions, so that would be no good. He likely could sneak in through the ventilation shaft as he did when he was last here, but again, a sudden emergence would likely produce a similar result to his previous visit. Granted, the chances of that happening once he showed his red and blue self in there were high no matter how he entered, but still, he needed a way in that would catch those inside by as little of surprise as possible.
Peter then watched as two men came up to the entrance. A device in front scanned them in, the door opening automatically. Seeing what he believed to be his best opportunity, he slipped inside, landing right behind the men who'd just entered as the door closed behind them. Naturally, this drew their attention, and they turned around, their eyes widening as he put his hands over their mouths.
"Shhh," he said in a low, soft tone. "Believe it or not, I'm not here to cause any trouble guys. I just need to ask around about something, then I'll go. Think you fellas could help me out?"
"Are you crazy?" one of the men asked. "No one in here is going to tell you anything about, well, anything!"
"Probably, but I'll take my chances," Peter replied. "Just let me walk in with you guys; act natural. I'm trying not to freak anybody out, okay?"
"Yeah, good luck with that," the other man said.
"Listen, you fellas going to make this easy on yourselves or not?" Peter questioned.
The two men then looked at each other then looked back at Peter before reluctantly motioning for him to follow along. He cooperated, walking just behind the men as they went down the hall and came to the main room. Trying his best to ignore the extreme awkwardness of the situation, he entered as well. As soon as he did, what had once been a very chatty room suddenly went completely silent, with everyone's eyes now trained on him. Glancing around, Peter scanned the room as he continued through it, trusting his spider sense to alert him to any trouble as he searched for someone who looked as though they might have answers.
His eyes coming towards the bar, Peter noticed a particularly familiar face: Herman Schultz, the man who was usually beneath the Shocker costume. The guy was someone who'd made connections with almost everyone in the underworld, so, deciding he was his best chance, Peter came up alongside him. The man simply glanced at him before looking back down at his drink, taking it in his hand.
"What are you doing here, bug?"
"I'm looking for information," Peter said.
"Now what makes you think myself or anyone else in here would tip you off to the comings and goings we conduct in this city?" Herman questioned.
"It's nothing like that, at least I hope not," Peter explained. "I'm trying to help a friend track down a missing person."
"Ah, I see," Herman replied before taking a sip of his drink. He then set it down, continuing: "Who might you be looking for?"
"A college student named Gwen Stacy," Peter inquired.
"So, this is over a girl?" Herman questioned. Peter couldn't tell if his tone was intended to be jovial or menacing, but he pressed on, opting to ignore the implications of either for the moment.
"She's the daughter of a police captain," Peter explained.
"Ah," Herman replied. "Maybe it was someone with a beef with the captain."
"If that's true, then you know that something like that wouldn't end well for that person," Peter reasoned, "especially since this guy is rallying the whole department after his daughter. Whoever took her is going to face a lot more than just one man, so it'd be best if they cooperate, don't you think?"
"Maybe," Herman replied, taking another sip of his drink.
"Come on, Herman," Peter said. "I know we've obviously had our differences, but you're one of the few in here with at least something of a sense of decency. From one man to another, why don't you..."
"Hey BUG!"
Peter paused his sentence, turning around to see exactly the last person he wanted to see in the place, standing on the other side of the room...
...Scorpion.
Hope you're still enjoying it!
Continuing to pray for you all; stay safe and healthy!
"A person's own folly leads to their ruin, yet their heart rages against the Lord." Proverbs 19:3