*I DO NOT own any rights or properties of MARVEL!
All Spider-Man, or mentioned Marvel Characters are owned by respected creators (Stan Lee and Steve Ditiko) and companies (Marvel, Disney & Sony Respectfully)!
This IS A FANFIC! I ONLY OWN A FEW OC's and Plot!
THIS WILL BE A MATURE SPIDER-MAN STORY! A SPIDER-MAN (Peter Parker) x OC STORY!
RATED M:
Blood, Violence, Strong Use Of Language, Use to Mention Of Drugs & Alcohol, Heavy Suggestive Themes/Topics, *LEMONS*, I repeat, *LEMONS* are involved…a LOT'EM
IF THIS CONTENT MAKES YOU UNEASY, PLEASE LEAVE!
OR IF YOU'RE BRAVE ENOUGH…
- *READ AT YOUR RISK!* -
PLEASE READ, REVIEW AND ENJOY, true Believers!
…
Issue 2: If Not? Why Not?
…
…
"...Dude…That is so fucked up. I mean, like, God. Of all people out of your rogues? HE was the one to control your body?! Dr. Octopussy, that lame-ass villain of the century, the first that did it! Holy shit!" Johnny Storm loudly yelled at Peter. Who nodded at his friend's thoughts. The two heroes spent several hours talking on top of a rooftop in the midday of New York, Johnny's family taking another trip to the Negative Zone, ensuring its stability as Reed Richards puts it, traveling all in space on patrol for threats, meteorites to destroy, the usual for the Fantastic Four. Peter, despite what happened after Otto's Superior Spider-Man reign, glad they were not in New York after the fall of Otto's reign and invasion of Goblin Nation, however, Peter explained all of what happened to Johnny personally.
By, personally, Johnny heard rumors of Spider-Man, Peter, going rouge. Breaking major laws, such as people's privacy, arranged a private-army along an island to train new recruits, then dawn a Red/Black Spider-suit that gave a more alien-yet-aggressive look for the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man of that time. Even done such acts as, slashing up Screwball & Jester to a bloody pulp, snapping off Scorpion's jaw off, brutalized Alexstar Smythe, also known as Spider-Slayer, held-iron grip on Crime, which yes it lowed crime to even 60% of that time, Otto's approach to crime was more use of excessive force, intimidation, even spying people with the Spider-Bots.
Johnny, understandable, denied such dire accusations of hearing about his best friend along with Ben Grimm, first response, being in character for Johnny and Ben Grimm to say, "BULLSHIT!" They both shouted. Which, yes, by all accounts Peter may have done those actions, yet, he didn't. Peter in his "nerd-mode" explained to Johnny Otto took "full" control, however Peter still remained, just more of a ghost of Peter's conscience that had halted Otto from doing…vile actions he knew the late-villain would have done. Of course for Johnny, left dumbstruck by how Peter, despite not having his body anymore at that time, only got to watch Otto's actions greatly change how Peter Parker, Spider-Man do. From friendly-jokily-mannered crime fighter, looking out for the little-guy to a cold-callous-menacing way of handling crime in New York. Even small crimes were left ignored by Otto everytime.
The two heroes sigh at how much Peter told Johnny, in his Fantastic Four jumpsuit with a black-leather jacket, while Peter had his mask on top of his head. Peter shook his head in agreement. "I know. I may have beaten Doc Ock physically. Most of the time. Although, I won't lie…He was clever. Meticulous on everything he did or planned to do for results. Perfect results. And…I got careless."
"That's bullshit, Pete. And you know it. It doesn't matter. You did what us heroes do best. Saving everyone. Even the villains like Octopussy bitch ass. Just…God, man…No one? And I mean…no one didn't even notice or even believed you? Not even…her?" Johnny asked, placing both hands on his hips. Peter shook his head, 'No'. Then Johnny threw his hands up in the air, while huffing, "SERIOUSLY, MAN?! Oh my GOD! Look, I know you're a dork, and yes I won't stop calling you that cuz it's true, but like…what?! You've been dating that red-headed broad for like, what? Four or Six years? And she didn't take notice?! How in the hell does you, go from dorky-yet-heroic Wallcrawler to being an edge-lord crime hating Punisher-wannabe, that the actual Punisher wanna know your location, then kill your ass for stealing his looks or target his turf."
"Five years with MJ, Johnny and…I…No, man. You're right, Johnny-Bravo. You're absolutely right. For the first time, we both agreed on something." Johnny crossed his arms with a proud smirk, "But I'm still the smartest one here." Johnny drops the smile for a deadpan face, while shooting the bird with flame coming on top of the tip at Peter who chuckles. "Hahahe, relax Match-Sticks. I'm joking, Johnny-Bravo. Or am I?" Peter questioned then pointing a finger at Johnny, who remained a deadpan expression.
"Yeah, yeah, dork. Laugh it up. Still got the fame of Johnny and being the HUMAN TORCH. Not Match-Sticks. Get it right, Human-Spider." Johnny retorted back at Peter, who held an amused expression.
"Ya know, Human-Spider or Arachnid isn't as bad. Just not as catchy as Spider-Man. Good try, though." Both chuckled for a bit before both sat at the edge of the building, looking all of New York in the bright sunny-yet-clouded look of Manhattan, NYC. "But…ehh, thanks for listening, Johnny. I mean it, man."
Johnny nodded without looking at Peter, "Of course, man. We may talk-shit to each other and to common thugs, but I ain't that of a shitty person. Sometimes…"
"Until I came into the picture and helped you to be more humble now." Johnny playful smacks Peter's arm, yet again nods once more with a smile.
"Hell yeah. But I'm still cocky though. Just more willing to show more…humility every now and then."
"Yep. But again…Thanks. I know, it got into Reed's mind and being careful as ever. With his kids he and Sue have now. Yet…you're here hearing me out. Again, Johnny, I appreciate that." Peter credits Johnny, to who waved his hand, finally showing his "humility" of the praise he was given.
"Hey, man. We're brothers, including Ben. Well, more like a Father-Figure. Sure, we're not by blood-related but fuck that shit of a quote. Ben and I got you. If Stuck-Up-Ass Reed ain't got no more Space travel-Negative Zone mission BS, come to the tower. Ben and I have the new latest big room we could do like some wild-shit in there. Either like training, sports, chill, hell even break stuff to hell and back if one of us is pissed. Good for blowing steam off. Anytime, no free of charge of course by your good host." Johnny finished and then stood up with a bow before Peter grins at Johnny's antics, keeping the mood up the best they could.
Despite their opposites of who they are, they have a lot in common with each other than most of Peter's civilian friends, or "friends". One being of course, Harry Osborn. Sure, for all of his High school life of Harry, both were the closest of friends in Midtown to ESU, that before…Norman Osborn began his reign of terror on the lives of New Yorkers to of course, Peter Parker, trying to be the Underground Crime Boss to targeting Peter's personal life and alter ego. The saddest thing of Harry and Peter's friendship deteriorated from how Harry kept more distance to being hostile with Peter, even at Norman's first funeral way back when. To this day, and now, Harry still doesn't know Norman was the Green Goblin.
With Johnny, he could be more open, him and with the Fantastic Four, open up with open arms, allowing Peter to stay if he needed. Talk on his personal or mental needs with either Sue, Ben or even Reeds, most of the time if Reed was available, just come and ask. Too bad they couldn't give him a place nor job for the Fantastic Four, but help with personal needs? No problem. So hearing Johnny, calling the both of them "Brothers", were true as light.
"I know. Brothers. It's just…(*Sigh*) I did everything I could. For them. For…her. Sometimes trying can't always be enough. Mostly."
Johnny took notice of low-tone Peter's voice and said, "Hey, brother. Don't do that. I know, and it's okay to vent, but don't or never doubt yourself. You did your best, protected them as you could and some things are just out of your control. Life is…unpredictable. Just like you."
'Holy shit…The lowest of my life right now. And for the FIRST time ever, now hearing Johnny giving me wisdom. HA! I gotta say…I didn't expect this.' "Is that, wisdom, I'm hearing correctly, Johnny Storm?"
"Fuck yeah you did, dork. Look at me now! I'm a wiseguy! Filled with wisdom of the horrors of the real world!"
"But still an idiot, though."
"Oh yeah? You're still a dork-dorky!"
"Yet, somehow I get the girls. The hottest ones. And some lasted longer than others or…yours."
Johnny held up a hand, before taking a moment to think before looking down as he shook his head while Peter laughed, no way to counter or make a comeback of the brag. Johnny turned to Peter with dark-glare with eyes being bright-orange, "You're lucky you're my brother or I would've Supernova fried your ass, Spidey!"
Peter held up his hands with a smug-grin, "Hey man…I guess my dork-game could be a bit better than your fame-celebrity game. Pretty sure, it's getting outdated now. Hate the game, not the player, bro."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah. Yap, yap, yap, yap. You got me, bro. You got game. For a dork."
Peter sighs yet remains with a grin, "Never gonna let that go, huh?"
"Nope." Johnny immediately answered. Again, nothing has not happen yet. No crimes being committed yet. No one is in danger nor in need of help, other than directions from time to time. Both of the heroes talked more as they moved to another rooftop, to do some parkour or movement, "So, have you heard from…her? Yet?"
Peter, in now of his mask, deeply sighs of now that question was brought up. They stopped, sat down on the edge of the building. Well, Peter did while Johnny was hovering above Peter, "I really don't know, Johnny. I tried to call her last year. Letting her know I'm safe or have full control of my body again. No Otto or other villain to take over. Thank God for that, I suppose. Yet…Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So…I'm giving MJ time and space. I'm…sure she'll come around. Maybe. I hope…"
Johnny could tell, no, sense something was going on than what his brother was letting on. Despite wearing the mask, Johnny could tell Peter's voice met with doubt to even suspicion, yet, Johnny only just nodded. Feeling not to pry in his brother's relationship, "I see. Sorry, Pete."
Peter waved his hand at Johnny, "Nah, man. Don't be. Not your fault. Just…she's just scared. Knowing how the life of a Superhero can be...Dangerous. Thoughts of me dying in the field. The concerns. And…enemies knowing where she or May is. I can see why she needs…time."
'Nah. I fucking call bullshit, man. That Red-Headed bitch called MJ left him. I know, I know, they both knew each other for a LONG time, but something was off about that woman. As a villain? Hell no. Bad partner to be with? Hell yeah. Like, for real though, doesn't MJ know Peter is Spider-Man and does this hero work for now his whole life and NOW…wants to leave? Nah, I'm calling bullshit, Pete. But…I can only keep this to myself.' Johnny again nodded at his brother, to whom Peter stared down at the city.
"I get it, man. I do. I'll keep it to myself." Johnny checks his watch before his phone, and a message appears on his screen. He groaned at it with mild-annoyance while Peter turned to him. "(*Sighs*) Sorry, man. Got something with Reed. Gotta head to the Baxter-Building. I'll catch you next time, man." Peter nodded as both fist-bump-snap as now Johnny flew away fast.
Now left alone, again, Peter began to swing through Manhattan. Performing air-tricks, swinging deeper to the streets, wallrunning from building to building, thoughts ran through his head as he traversed quickly…
'I won't lie to myself, Johnny had me worried there. Maybe he knew I was lying a bit. Honestly…I was. I knew MJ left me. I mean, I understand it. I leave, come back with bruises. Cuts. Gun-shots wounds. Hell, even bird poop landed on me, and of course...JJ had to put it on his front-paper when I worked for Bugle. Not anymore and never will again. Anyway…I understand MJ was scared. Frightened. Yet those words she said to me still…hurt. Even if some were truths…it's just-! (*Sigh*) Forget it. If she…moved on. I should too. I'll be fine. I'll live. Still breathing. Yet…hurt. But, honestly, when was the last time I wasn't hurt as much then and now?'
Peter landed on a pole before launching himself off fast as always, swinging most days like these to help ease Peter's stress, worries or need fresh air. Front-flipping mid-air as he swings again after shooting another webbing. 'Well, can't be helped now. MJ's her own person and so am I. Better at least we talked it out then not.'
Peter's Spider-Sense tingles in sensation. Danger. Close. Turning his head he could see NYPD Police Cruisers in pursuit of high-speeding pick-up truck, 4x4, with a gun-man holding a machine gun, spraying bullets on the Police Cruisers, leaping off the web he held then free-falling towards vehicles, webbing the gun-man to the pick-up truck in the back. Rip the machine gun in half before seeing 4 more inside. Of course they all fire…
*BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! BANG! BANG! BANG!*
Reflexes. Speed. Senses. Gymnastics. Dodging. We're all of Peter's best friends for life. Each bullet, no matter the type of weapon being fired from, dodges them all with ease, using his super-speed, Peter jumps on the top of the pick-up. Webbing the front window, then slamming his fist on the engine. Forcing the pick-up stop. Making it useless to run, as then now the pick-up felt it was going to flip, Peter then back-flipped off it before using his strength to stop it from crashing into incoming traffic. Placing the truck down with ease before now the remaining 4 thugs came out, yet once more Peter, with his speed and fighting capability put each one down with quick-one-tap, making sure none got killed. Webbing all 4 in a giant web to a lamppost. Classic way to end a crime.
NYPD Officers made it to the scene before Peter jumped out of the way, web-swinging away. After a while, a would-be thug held a robbery to a convenience store, however the thug was webbed up to the ceiling after failing to notice Peter being behind him. Peter held up the money to the store owner, only been told to "Fuck Off, Meance!" Peter sighs and leaves after returning the money.
Another small crime occurred when someone was about to crash their car into a school bus, the car driver being sleep-deprived didn't help as soon the car almost hit the bus, Peter stopped the car with his webbing and super strength, the children who watched it all, yelled in excitement and thank you's to their Spider-themed hero, until other folks yelled at the hero either with appreciation or hostility. A lot of mixed bags of the day. Taking his leave after seeing the driver was safe and making the car not run without a key. Peter after leaving the scene saw workers on the street almost became victims of one of a sign almost falling on them if not for Peter grabbing the sign in midair, placing it on the ground safely. One of the workers thanked him, but one didn't and only shouted at Peter…
"Fuck you! I bet you made that sign fall, jackass! We're working here!"
Peter only sighs as he swings through to make his way in Upper West of Manhattan, the usual of stopping two-time crimes, helping someone with finding their car which he did. Saved a couple from being kidnapped in an alley, after being up ten thugs, webbing up the driver, both gave their thanks as Peter nodded then swung away to the buildings. Wallrunning up the building before landing on one of the rooftops. Peter blows some breath away, busy day on patrol then wipe sweat off his forehead. "Man! Busy day! Some good action for today. Could get a refresher." Pulling his mask down again, he crawls to find a small store stand. Peter lightly tapped on the hood, the stand-owner looked up with wide-eyes.
"Holy shit! S-Spider-Man?!"
"The One and only, of course! Anyway, could I get a bottle of water? Gotta stay hydrated on days like these." Peter said. The stand owner nodded quickly with a huge grin. Peter took out two dollars out of his suit pocket, 'Finally…I made pockets to this suit. Although my phone does jump out every now and then.' The stand-owner handed a bottle of water to Peter, then Peter handed the owner the two dollars, but the owner refused it.
"Nah, Spidey. This one's on the house! You don't remember me, but you did save me from that time NYC got hit by a flood. Won't forget that." The Owner of the Stand proudly spoke.
Peter was left stuck with emotions. Mostly the idea of someone giving him something free. Although Peter felt guilty for taking it from the owner, despite being given it for free. "Well…I appreciate the kind gesture, sir. But I'm still paying for this bottle of water. Though…ironic we're the smartest creatures in the Universe that pays to drink water. Kinda bull am I right?"
"Heh, ain't it the truth? See ya, Spidey!" Peter nodded as he swung away while drinking the bottle of water. Making his way in Midtown of Manhattan, getting towards his apartment by an open window. Tuning on his personal-made police scanner while taking each handful sip with his mask off fully. As he listened in for the radio, of course deep thought came through his head. Mostly after entering his apartment he saw a letter, one on the apartment being remodeled in the lobby to of course his bill coming up next month. Of course, one being Spider-Man and the hero of responsibility then living as Peter with his own responsibility. Life of a double life. Is this what spies have to deal with?
'Well…life as a hero and as Peter don't stop. Sucks, but hey, life sucks. Anyway, enough of that. Got my bill for rent. Thank God for left-over funds I took from Otto's time as "Peter". Only good thing he barely spent it. Only getting recognized with people was more of a priority for Otto than money or wealth. Still a bastard though. Well…broken bastard. One had a goal for everyone. Then turned to a monster with cruel ambitions to plunder Osborn or Oscorp back then. How one could change like that quickly is something that needs a study.' The Police Scanner had no major crimes being reported, either lack of criminals coming out of fear or most were already caught by NYPD Officers or very small crimes.
Feeling satisfied with no crime taking place in Midtown or Manhattan, Peter turned to his room after straightening up the living room a bit. Sat on his chair with gloves to web shooters off both of his wrists, placing them on the desk. Tinking, inspecting while moving on his mask. Giving it a clean up check, touching up the lens with a built-in scanner and A.I. to help with either crime scenes, aiming, Night-Vision to Thermal reading, medical detection. Even built in profiler. To profile someone's behavior, name, occupation to criminal history. All in his mask-lens. And…a recorder. One thing always about Peter, is being gifted-intelligent & Engineer. One that matches or sometimes rivals the likes of Tony Stark, Reed Richards, Hank Pym and many more. As he works, he begins to think. Deeply…
'Good. All internals? Check. Good condition? All good. Lens clear? Perfect. Then…there! All good now. The lenses are…a bitch to repair or recreate if knocked out or crushed. Better to find a tougher material while keeping the utilities the same.' As Peter checks all systems in his laptop. All screenings are shown to be green. Checking for things he recorded on his mask, crimes, saving lives or helping the people of New York to even…her. Peter clicks on the video of last night. The night he saw her. Displaying on the billboard back in Times Square. Making seductive gestures, blowing a kiss, keeping the same sly-smirk. Sure, it didn't air her voice, as they spoke all in his head. Peter couldn't lie…it felt…amazing.
The kind it felt through Peter's mind was swimming through water while the rain was pouring on a cloudy day. Either fast or slow, the sensation of swimming in the rain was the general feeling Peter felt as she spoke through his mind. Of course her voice was mature yet youthful while giving the chills through Peter's spine as they spoke telepathically. However, with the lens capability to record and profile people, it didn't profile the woman. Breaking his trance, Peter made his way to check on the recording to then profile.
As he did so, Peter side-eyed on another screen showing records of people. One by one, then it loaded. For 10 minutes, it finished while posting the results. As it came in now…
None.
Nothing.
Peter froze for a bit. The only time he felt those results was fighting and trying to locate the Chameleon once. This same effort happens, yet finding her stuck in something Peter felt. Feeling…heartbroken. Despite not…knowing who she was. Not even meeting her "personally", only her just teasing him. Peter rubbed his face with both hands.
'R-Relax, Parker. This does confirm she's not human. So maybe either a runaway mutant. Mutante or another Superpowered human. And…she did look like the type who fights for the thrills or even glory battles. As in her scars. On her face to…uhhm, her ta-tas. Hehe, "Ta-Tas"! I swear I'm still a kid on the inside with Spider-Powers. But still…what did she want with me? Only to flirt with me? Or give me a peak? Hell, even seduced me…a little bit. I mean…thanks? But why? Why do that to yourself for a stranger and a loser like me? Guess Johnny was right. I do have a "game" for a dork like me. That is if my relationships last long. Which some did and…some not. However, again…who was she? I don't know. Even if she's beautiful, I have to make sure she isn't a threat. New York always comes first before anyone else.'
Closing his laptop. Keeping his mask and gloves by his web-shooters on the table, while he prints a picture of her…blowing the kiss at him to hang her on the wall of a map of New York, mostly from Manhattan, Queens and Brooklyn. Mostly away from Peter's rouge galleries on most of the left to her on the top of the map. Placed a sticky-note on her photo with then written questions at the bottom reading…
Who Are You?
What Are You?
Where Are You?
Turning off the lights, heading towards his bed for a nap, checking in on his phone. From news, his online fan-club still kicking and alive with active posts of support, cheers to even kind-hearted words for Peter to who smiles, knowing still everyone loves the hero, despite what Otto had done with body. Of course the thought quickly made Peter stop smiling to now had enraged look, '(*Groans*) Fuck you, Otto! Can't believe you…done so much vile and heinous stunts with my fucking body! Bastard!' Leaving it behind, of course more yapping from JJ. Jameson being right along with Peter, aka Spider-Man being the threat he was.
Despite this, Jameson had supported Spider-Man being more…aggressive on criminals. Why? Either to appeal with the voters or…been the hypocrite he always was. Rolling his eyes once more as he swipe to now see Johnny with his fans, mostly being with bombshells models with a thumbs up and cocky smile. 'Haha! Never change Johnny. Never change.' As Peter then swiped he saw an ad that caught his attention. Mostly the ad begins with a covered-yet-visible feminine figure on a building in a sunset environment with bold-colorful letters on the bottom-right corner with the saying of…
…
Looking for experienced photographers with a minimum of 1 to 10 years of experience with also good photo editing skills! Full-Time work and paid benefits along with a paid-leave for any circumstances! Work with us as a 9 to 5, with a minimum pay of $14 dollars an hour! Call us or visit our website! Can't wait to meet you!
…
'Photographers, huh? Been…been awhile I haven't taken any photos. I mean…Being Spider-Man to sell myself to JJ. Jameson for money back in High to then some years in college before I quit and he ran for Mayor. Then of course…Dexter Benedict took over the Bugle, firing me on the spot of not being "perfect" enough or going out of my way to take photos of making people look "bad." Seriously at the bottom of heart, go to hell Benedict. So maybe…Maybe I could give this one a shot. (*Scoffing*) I doubt I could hold it with being a hero. But…I do need another job. Sure, I could go back to doing Parkers Industries but…not sure when Harry gets back. Or if he comes back. So perhaps…I could give this a shot.' Feeling sleepy now, Peter plugs his phone on a charger, while still wearing his suit, minus the gloves to his shoes, on the bed. Drifting off to sleep…
…
…
…
…
…
…
Somewhere In New York, Upper Washington at: Union Lee's Docks
Time: 8:33 PM
…
…
"Hey, Sullivan! Get over here! We got one!" A NYPD Detective shouted. Another detective came by, Sullivan, or Garry Roddy Sullivan as he was called. With a tan-rosy skin color with slick brown-haired and green eyes with an average build in a gray suit with his NYPD badge in his thirties with a five-o'clock shadow displayed on his lower end of face. His partner, being darker-skin colored, African American with a beard and short-tied dreads in a blue-suit came to a crime scene with Sullivan. Looking over a dead-body of a man, who was way older, late-sixties, gray hair with a longer beard. Laying on the ground, a pierced through wound on his back to the neck area. "Same M.O., slash marks a bit. Mostly on the neck from where I could tell."
"You're right. Smooth slash mark on the neck. Same brutal-stab wound on the chest area. Primarily the same penetration to the heart as the previous victim from yesterday, yet the crime took place at his home rather than at his workplace. Could they be connected? From a business-standpoint? Perhaps. Personally? Definitely not. The victim from yesterday was younger, late-thirties. This one, Victor Merlenn Lee, in his sixties. Both business owners. One for cleaning. This one for ships or boats or even shipping." Sullivan summarized quickly, his partner, Blakely Quinn, nodded while writing down on his notepad while an CSI investigator came by while taking photo shoots the scene.
"Maybe a connection? As in, being specifically targeted by someone or perhaps a group of those who have a hatred towards the upper-class? Business owners? Big to low?" Quinn pondered.
"Could be possible. Yet, it's something more. Both are known for controversies. Kayn Wyatt, got a domestic charge for assaulting his wife back in 2019. Served only half of time. Only be in jail for 5 weeks rather than serving 18 months. Charges dropped from the system. For Mr. Lee here…he has been accused of…*ahem*...speaking with minors online. Largely over on the internet on social media, however, most of that was disapproved of when one of the managers from the shipping docks got hold of his accounts to shit-on-his whole name. So he got fired and blacklisted. Now…the owner of the docks now here, dead on the ground." Sullivan finished while Quinn finished writing. Placing the notepad in one of his pockets.
"So both known business owners are killed. Both faced with controversies from the public or private. Same wounds on the neck to heart, yet, with Kayn Wyatt's death at the scene. His eyes were gouged out brutally to then his…manhood sliced to hell. With this one, it was only pierced quickly from neck to chest. Must say…for Wyatt had worse. This one? Quick and simple. Possibly Victor M. Lee was not the target but still killed? Why?" Quinn questioned. Sullivan stopped for a second, then nodded back at Quinn with a tired-smirk.
"It's possible. It's a push, yet, I could see it. We just need to know who was the intended target. Him? Or someone else."
"Maybe the manger who made those fake posts to get back at Victor Lee? Perhaps something happened between the two? Blackmail? Ruin Lee's reputation? Both private life and company? I mean…it could be a lead." Quinn and Sullivan walked away from the crime scene to get their vehicle while the rest held up the scene. While Quinn got on the radio, calling in technical services, Sullivan wrote down a recap to theories on his own personal notepad.
'Both businessmen were found dead. Wyatt being savagely murdered in his home, while Lee was quickly killed, like more trash in a way. Both had…issues. One assaulted his wife, then Lee was accused of talking with children online. Only then to be proven it wasn't him but his previous manager. Gotta say, whoever this is has a grudge. Perhaps a victim of domestic abuse? Someone who despises child-predators online or in real life?' Possible, as he wrote it down.
'However, how would they know of their personal lives? Sure, all or most were online or over the internet or news for Wyatt. Or perhaps someone in Law Enforcement? Frustrated by our flawed justice system keeping these types of people back on the streets? Maybe…'
Sullivan finished his thoughts on his pad before placing it in his pocket, while Quinn kept on driving, 'So…who are you, friend? Playing vigilante? Taking laws in your own hands? Despite the fact that we have…several costumed "heroes" all in New York or over the world. Why now?'
"Think of…The Punisher's doing?" Quinn guessed as they rode in the car. Sullivan shook his head, dismissing the theory, but good guess.
"No. That's something the Punisher doesn't do. If he would have done it, it wouldn't be in the open or by someone's workplace. From the last 20 years, the Punisher took out criminals or large gangs in a more brutal fashion with actual use of firearms than melee weapons. No bullets or wounds indicating each victim was shot. Both were killed with sharp instruments. Could've been a knife. Sword. Or a dagger to possibly even a bayonet. Yet, they way each was slashed on their necks, mostly have to be a long-sword, I'm guessing. Easier to manage with range. Presion of cutting. Stabbing on the other hand? Maybe a dagger?" Sullivan explained.
"I could see that. Swords are known, despite being outdated-weapon use in warfare, as a good instrument for murder. Just have to figure out what type it was. (*Sighs*) We'll see how our guys at forensics or what the Coroner thinks was the cause of death. Think we could, hypothetically speaking, be dealing with a hitman or assassin? Something like…corporate espionage?" Quinn asked. The thought of dealing a bigger threat than they realize made both their skin crawl, mostly how the deaths came out so suddenly with quick and precision cuts. Mostly Lee, while Kaya Wyatt was killed more ruthlessly, made their skin crawl with a chill.
"Shit…If that's the fucking case. Then the Bureau would get involved. One thing dealing with superhero shit we can't control, but the feds all over the place now? Fuck…" Sullivan gasped, while Quinn only nodded. Understanding the sakes, while something more was happening out in the open of New York.
"Could it be like…a message? Message of how problems on the streets are just more problems like the end of the world?" Quinn asked once more.
"If that was the case…we would have seen a manifesto. Or several more of their manifesto or even a reason. We don't or we haven't seen one yet. Because if we're going to go that area, it's a lot of people in New York or the whole country with that mentality. Yet…could one do such acts of murder or stalking is the question. Unless it could be a mutant who has a fanatically cause most Americans or the world shares on business owners, mostly the rich. Yet these two…we're just as known for simple businesses than a major company conglomerate. If we're talking about a hitman…that's a different story. Whoever it was or the case may be. It's something more." Sullivan finished.
For Detective as Sullivan, there's more to the story than simple answers or points. Mostly points of problems like these, despite their shared controversies, both were still murdered, yet one being brutally murdered, the other quickly killed. Of course, this could be the same as anyway story, those whose hatred toward those who strive or been born to greatness or in wealthy family would cause those in the public to be apathetic to having destructive political views or goals of harming the wealthy rather it be justifiable or taking the free-will to be greater or find their wealth in the world.
Or perhaps someone who's dangerously envious for both to have accomplished making their own small-business for simple needs for the public? Or a worker who knew both victims' questionable actions, taking their anger out on them? Maybe a woman? Someone who had suffered from domestic abuse from their husband or boyfriend? Or a man himself who also suffered from abuse from their wives? Finding to take the life of Kayn Wyatt in such a savagley manner?
Sullivan placed a hand on his chin as Quinn got closer to their police precinct, still in thought. 'I won't lie to myself. While it would seem easy…my guts telling me something different. Better to investigate privately on my own. No disrespect to Quinn. He's good too. I could consult with Quinn about this. No…next time.' Both detectives leave their vehicle as they enter their precinct with several Officers coming in or out of the building. 'Looks like a case of the century is now on my radar.'
…
…
…
…
…
…
Somewhere In New York: UNKNOWN
Time: UNKNOWN
…
"...AGH!" Someone yelped in agony. On-lookers in a dimmy-room watched as someone was being tortured, with use of drills drilled into their hands, more shouts of agony. Of course the person's face was covered, but it was masculine as the second person, whose face was also covered yet had a feminine figure shredded in fear of hearing the man's voice, sounds of misery, being tortured right next to her. The screams continued before the torturer stopped, lifting up the drill off one of the man's hands.
Then one of the hidden on-lookers came into the scene with a hammer, in a split-second, the On-Looker slammed the hammer on the woman's foot, the tied-up woman screeched the hardest and loudest in the room. Then was once hit on the leg, mostly on the knee. The woman yelled even harder. The On-Looker to the Torturer turned away in the shadows as someone, a woman dressed in an all-gray suit with a short skirt with black-thigh-highs and high heels. Long shag style black hair, yet a very youthful face with black eyes, a cameral-tan skin color, Latina, with a…busty hourglass body, huge DD-Cup breasts, big-yet-shaped bubble butt hidden in her skirt. She then eyed the two people with disgust. She tapped her heels hard on the ground, gaining their attention...
"Hush up with the whining and carrying on. It won't work and no one is here to save you both. You're two are good as dead and gone from the world…Unless…one of you gives me information."
"W-What…What infor-information?! W-Who are you…?" The masked man caused, voice trembling after being tortured, same for the masked woman. Their wounds are out, open, bloody.
"P-Please…I…I have children…A loving husband…I can't…I can't die…" The masked woman cried, even though being masked, she had tears coming out. The Mysterious Woman rolled her eyes with a groan, before slapping the masked woman with such harsh force.
"Shut the fuck up you cheating whore. You're saying that now because you're now caught, tortured and out of the public eye and now wanna be with your children that are obviously not your husband's. Am I wrong?" The Masked Woman went silent, the Mysterious woman smirk, "Thought so. I bet I got your full attention now, skank? I know it's all an act. Being a mercenary to cat-like-thief for 16 years? Been around ten men behind your "loving-husband" back who you never really loved other than him being with a wealthy family. I do feel bad for him. No criminal records. No shady business. Hell, even a stand-up citizen. Just unfortunately his wife had a double life of thrills and kills with a lot sex with dead-beat "bad-boys" who are just cowardly-insecure men, while your husband takes care of another "man's" kids. God, you're pissing me off." She turns to the masked men, still whimpering in fear, again not falling for it, "Hey, don't cry now, boy. I beat every girl you shipped off to overseas did the very same while you probably laughed your ass off by getting paid 10s to 100 thousands dollars of shipping them poor souls to never been seen again. Or even fucked one of them against their will many times. Oh, even took hold of little-girls too? Jesus, what goes on in your heads?"
The Masked Man, exposed of his secret, went from whimpering in fear to ballistic, "WHAT?! How the fuck you know that?! What the fuck! Do you…do you know who you're talking to you bitch-?!" The Mysterious Woman in one swift move, slammed her heels, (mostly her heel-top piece) on the man's…manhood. The Masked man howled as hard as he could, the Masked Woman cringed by hearing how loud the man screamed at his manhood and got stomped on by the Mysterious woman, who then twisted her heel, the man screamed even louder, face red. Sweat pouring down rapidly. The Mysterious Woman leans over the man with a sadistic smile on her face, as she keeps twisting her heel on his manhood fully.
She comes to the man's ear, "Listen here, little-man…Only a special, and ONLY, special man can call me a bitch in bed. Call me a bitch one more time. Please, be brave. Brave enough to call me a bitch. Go on." She spoked. Voice filled with venom he Masked Man again yelled as she twisted her heel even harder on his manhood.
"I-I-I-I…I…I…p-please…please…I-I'm s-sorry…sorry…" Satisfied, she lifted her heel off his manhood, he was relieved. Yet she front kicked his face, mostly at his nose despite him wearing the mask, she precisely striked his nose in one hit. Once again he cries in pain before one of the hidden-On-Looker comes from the shadows to grab his mouth. Shutting him up. The Mysterious woman straightens up her posture, being professional and calm.
"So…now we are clear. My demands are simple. Either you two tell me what I want to know. Boom. You both can go home free. Sure, traumatized. Brutalized. Battered. But alive, am I right?" No vocal replies but nods from two captors. She clapped her hands together, "Excelente! Let's get started!" She turns to the Masked Woman, grabbing her head with her hands, grabbing the woman's head tightly, her fingernails digging her scalp.
"Now, slut…We've been monitoring your movements for a long time. Mostly after the Goblin Nation nonsense that has been happening in New York. After the fallout you and some lackeys of yours raided a shipment container with old S.H.E.I.L.D to even the cocksuckers of H.A.M.M.E.R containing…a lost project. A project based on capturing from unsuspecting mutants to illegal superpowered individuals to hunt, capture, adopt to overcome or kill on command. Something of the Sentinels, yet a project that is said to be more stronger and versatile than the fucking Sentinels ever will be. So…it's missing. And by missing. It's stolen. By the both of you, and it's a problem with my employer. And when my employer is pissed. I'm pissed." She finished, as both the masked people moved slightly, despite their face covered, they both felt terrified by the Mysterious Woman's presence of authority.
The Masked woman began to speak…"I…Well…I don't know-" She was grabbed by the nose of the Mysterious woman hard, grabbing her very forcefully.
"No. I don't want a "I Don't Know!", "I Don't Remember!" answers! None of those. I want cystal-clear answers. Clear and simple. There's nothing to hide nor lie to me. And then them behind me. Either speak truthfully or get shot. Only two options." The Mysterious Woman let go of the other woman's head harshly. Before long after ten minutes, the Masked Woman spoke, while turning to the Mysterious woman.
"F-Fine…just…! Fine. Yes…I assembled a team of thieves with different sets of skills. One for location to track the shipment, one for breaching through the heavy steel-iron doors with powerful tools. Taking the "project" with us. Then one for transport without being detected, which the…man next to me was responsible for doing."
"You…you fucking snitch! You…you selling me out?!" The Masked man yelled. The Masked Woman only shook her head, yet the Mysterious woman smirked.
"And what else, girl?"
"That's…something the man next to m-me has to tell you…I got on my bike and left…" The Mysterious Woman turned to the Masked man, gripping his head tightly as she did with the Masked woman, digging her sharp nails as much.
"AGHH-Aghh…! O-Okay! Okay! I'll talk! Just…F-Fine…I…I drove all of that shit into the harbor. T-The Western 81 H-Highway!" She digs deeper on his head, the feeling of blood spilling out, he panics… "H-Hey, hey, hey, HEY! Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! F-Fuck…okay…it's in…fuckin' Riverdale! It's in RIVERDALE! In the outskirts of Sycamore Ave. In a wooden warehouse. U-Underground…" The Masked Man gave in the answers. Feeling pleased with the answer, she let go of his head. She inspects her fingernails being stained with blood. One of the hidden figures gives her a napkin, she gives her thanks before turning towards the two masked people, with a grin.
"See? Was it that hard for the both of you? Hm?" The response was grunts of pain with a nod, "Splendid!" Then she turns to one of them hidden in the shadows, speaking in spanish, "(Send a team into Riverdale. Into Sycamore Ave. Give out the order. See how true the location of the missing "project" is. Take everything with you, weapons, cars or vans. Anything. Get me that "package." Dismissed.)" The hidden figures nodded while in the shadows began to leave. She comes back to the trapped people, "Good news you two! I'll have one of my men cut your bindings off. And you'll be scout-free!" She nodded one of them to cut their captors' bindings off. One by one they were cut off. After 30 seconds, both stood up from their chairs, still with their masks on. The Masked Woman speaks first…
"S-So…is that it? A-Are we done?" The woman asked, her trembling to keep balance after being hit with a hammer on her foot to knee.
"P-Please…please let us go…We…answered your questions! C'mon…" The man asked, holding his hand being drilled. The Mysterious Woman sighs yet retains a smile on her face.
"Of course. Of course! Of course, my friends! You're free to leave! Just…" Taking out a Five-Seven pistol with built-in suppressor, firing at their heads. Killing them instantly, "...not that way, I'm afraid. Loose ends." She turns to the remaining people, she shoots an ordering gesture to come, "Come on. All of you. Clean this mess up. Burn their bodies. Or bury them. Doesn't matter. Keep tabs on their personal lives. Eliminate anyone that gets too nosey. Make up a story for the families and friends. Call in our members on their way to Riverdale. Find it, no excuses until it's found." She ordered.
All nodded, leaving the room whereas the rest got to work on the bodies. Dragging the bodies, wiping the blood, DNA even spit off the floors. Taking the chairs somewhere else. Making it all spotless clean. The Mysterious Woman made her leave to the stairs, swaying her hips left and right as she smoked a cigarette while dialing a number on her phone.
She waited as the caller on the other end answered, "Sir? We have the location now. It's in upper, upper New York. Riverdale, in Sycamore Ave. In the outskirts. Possibly in the woods somewhere in a warehouse that is wooden for some reason the suspect said. We're going in with extreme caution."
"I see. Go ahead, Zero. We're on a ticking clock. We need to make sure the "project" isn't in the wrong hands. Bad enough S.H.I.E.L.D. lost their hands on it. H.A.M.M.E.R. As cocky Norman was, even he didn't remember having the "project" with them during their times as "Avengers." I have faith in you, Zero. Eagle, out." Both hang their phones, as she blows another steam of smoke off in the distance.
"(*Chuckling*) Old bastard still kicking… Better to have the devil you know than one you don't know. Hope that damned package is there. Lord knows how much of a paranoid-kitty cat he can be." Dropping the cigarette on the ground, stomping it as she leaves for her vehicle. Being a silver-Mustang GT500 with red-cherry stripes on her front to the back with darken tint windows. As she, Zero, climbs on into the driver. Taking off her heels, displaying her amazingly- good looking feet as she rubs them off after a long hours of standing. The pain of being a woman is wearing heels 24/7, not a joke. "Fuck…(*Groans*) Tarados! Making me stand on my feet for so long! God."
Zero took out her holster with her pistol. Placing on her passenger seat, nearby a bag. Inspecting her bag with her necessities. However something…intrigued her attention as she gave a naughty-sly smile with a few giggles for a moment before snapping herself away from those thoughts. "Ughhhh…can't do it. Not on my work. Duty calls. But damn…I need to get laid. I'll hit it off when I get home with some help." She took off in her sports car. Leaving a mark on the streets, driving swiftly in the nightly-yet-bright lit city of New York.
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
TO BE CONTINUED!
IN: One Sensational SPIDER-MAN!
