*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!* -
CHECK AT THE BOTTOM FOR AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END!
PLEASE READ, REVIEW AND ENJOY, true Believers!
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Issue 3: Done Deal
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"How's the test subject?"
"Well, Doctor…" The scientist gives a tablet to the Doctor, displaying X-Rays, organs, along with enchanted implants within the subject's body. Showing all greens, before yellow on the subject's head. Specifically the brain. While the brain wasn't in critical condition nor damaged, just signs of mixed reactions or the mental state being…bothersome for the scientists and the Doctor. "...Aside from the subject's…mental state being a concern. His physical health, with the implants, is in a perfect state. No complications. Limbs broken, aside from his jaw. In which we gave him a stronger jaw-bone replacement. So now he'll be able to speak clearly and properly. All we need to watch over-"
"-his mental wellbeing. He's been in and out. Left on life-support of losing his jaw. I know that. He knows that." The Doctor crosses his arms while seeing the test subject in the locked-up glass room on a bed with IV's, medical tubes, machines. Even one to feed him food with top of the line supplements. To keep his well-defined physique. Also having two people in jumpsuits tinkering with the tail coded in the subject's back. Placing a new material on top of its outdated look. The Doctor only stared blankly while the Scientist figures around the tablet, new information popping left and right. Vitals show all greens. After a while of staring the Doctor turns to the Scientist once more, "How's the neurocontrol chip coming along?"
"Ah, yes…the control chip." Swiping on the tablet, he turns to give it to the Doctor once more, "It's in the finalization process down in our labs. We're having our programmers make sure the chip is encrypted to be impossible to be decrypted or tracked. Making sure no outside forces could get hold on our Product to make him go rogue or…ehehe…crazy. Even adding abilities for his tail, one to control when he wants to or when we want to. Adding more than an acid blast. An EMP. Launch grenades. Hell, along with a laser-cutter! 20 times the plating of our own special-kind of metal material into the tail then suit in the works! Making our Product, nigh impossible to defeat! Pretty fuckin' awesome, right?!" The Scientist said, expressing his high enthusiasm with a devilish grin. Disregarding the ethics or a shed of morals of experimenting on the Product.
The Doctor only …nods at the Scientist words. The Doctor had the similar feelings, not the enthusiasm part, as the Scientist of the information of the capabilities of the Product. "Well…your enthusiasm counts for something, I suppose. We're working hard around every clock of the hour. The Product is about almost finished. Let's hope the Product doesn't disappoint us. His fair shares of losses do make me doubt if he survives to do our jobs for us. Even if the chip can't be decoded, others will try with their might."
"I see no reason to. Despite his…criminal past or shady past, he is a profound-combatant. Toe-to-Toe with Spider-Man. Beaten his ass many times. Just the Product is known for being easily pissed off or get blinded by rage pretty quickly." The Scientist added, yet the Doctor nodded yet raised a finger with a smirk…
"Which is why the chip will also do more than just control him to our will. It will keep him on a behavioral control. Allowing him to be more calm to focus on missions for Desmond and this blasted company." As both the Scientist to the Doctor, the Test Subject or the Product, despite in asleeped state, could hear more clearly. While keeping himself in this state, he thinks to himself as the two people worked on his tail.
'Hmph…these fuckin' chumps. Whatever "chip" they think it'll control me, can kiss my ass while sucking my dick! I mean, I do appreciate my jaw finally being repaired on my face. Didn't expect it to be with metal now. Doesn't matter. Once I'm out. I'm killing these Eggheads. Everyone. Even that punk-ass-Doctor and his bitch in that room.' Despite being in the sleep daze, he smirks. They took notice of this, but was brushed off swiftly as him dreaming something good or…sexual. Regardless, they continue their business and montering him. The Doctor and Scientist kept going in their conversations before everyone else stopped as now…
Herbert Desmond appears in the room. In casual wear, mostly in a polo-shirt with shorts on with sneakers, displaying his tip-top physique, bigger torso and shoulders. Big arms and biceps, bigger hips and legs. He carried on a smile with a smoothie in one hand, having a carefree attitude. Something good happens…The Doctor only rolls his eyes, unamused by the "happy attitude", which can't be said for the others as female to even the male scientist gaze at Herbert, starstruck.
"Hello, everyone! I'm sure everyone is doing an amazing job on this lovely day." He winks at the male scientist and blows kisses at several female coworkers, who madly blushed like crazy. The Doctor could only just sigh with pitching his nose. Finding this so…unnatural.
'Ugh…this is so horrible to see in person. Yet, everyone falls for it. Either out of fear. Him being highly charismatic. Born in a wealthy family to carry on the tradition. Despite it all. He's a psychopath. Showing all the sighs. The traits. The cold-plain stares. Faking emotions left and right with everyone. He did so at the meeting. He's doing it right now. Now showing he's in a "happy" or carefree state. He's incredibly similar to his late-father and mother. Blonde. Blue eyes. His mother's "smiles" for everyone. The Charisma of his father. Cruel-yet-calculating intelligence. And here I am…working for him.' The Doctor pops his own "smile" at Herbert, who did the same with a handshake. "Morning, good sir. I take it from your attire that you went out for a walk?"
"Of course. Gotta be in the best of shape here in NYC. For health or…for the looks." He flexed his biceps, getting gasps to moans from the women to the male scientist. Smirking at the Doctor. Who only just nodded. Keep up this "mood" Desmond is.
"Impressive. Your health comes first before anything. Youngsters like yourselves have much to do or find your potential."
"I couldn't agree more with you, Doctor Richter." Patting Dr. Richter's shoulder "friendly", before coming to the window. Seeing the Test Subject on the bed, who had a smirk a minute ago, now vanished. Taking a sip of his smoothe before turning towards Dr. Richter, "So, how is my Product? Vitals? Is it alive?"
"Yes, sir. Vitals all showing in greens. However, yellows came across on his brain. Detecting on…perhaps, a mental instability. Could be conflicting thoughts or PTSD. However, don't fret, sir. The neurocontrol chip is about to be finished down at our computer labs. We're doing multiple tests. Trails. Even a simulation to make sure no one, NO one is able to crack the whole encryption inside the chip. Making it tightly shut down from outside interference." The Male scientist explained, properting a proud smirk from Desmond.
"I see, I see. Very promising results! Very promising! I'm sure everyone here could agree with these results. We'll be making a lot of money folks! I'm sure I expect everyone and the project here to be completed by next month. I have high hopes for everyone here!" Desmond shouted before making his way into the elevator. As he got in, his mood went from happy going to now stone-cold stare. No smiles. No excitement in the eyes. Just a blank face. Yet he takes a sip from his smoothe. Various delicious flavors of fruits with a tangy sensation, tickling his taste buds, expect no reaction from Desmond. As the elevator kept going to his destination, his phone rang. Taking it out from his right pocket of his shorts as he answers it, "Desmond, speaking."
"Hello, sir! This is Kells. I'm calling on the progress report of the surveillance teams stationed around Manhattan. The city Spider-Man operates in."
"And? What do we have on Spider-Man so far? Home? Family? Friends? Wives or Girlfriends? Boyfriend or Husband? Anything at all? Or did you end up calling me on purpose to waste my time here?" Desmond questioned. His voice had a monotone-coldness to it as he spoke, yet annoyance was clear as day.
Kells clears his throat on the other end, "Well, sir…It's been over a month and a half, closer to October. Our progress on Spider-Man has been met with…mix results. Mostly over how fast and unpredictable he swings over all of Manhattan. When every crime takes place, he's in the vicinity close or far yet fast approaching. Takes off before our crew can catch him or the NYPD, Spider-Man disappears within the buildings. We find webs in crime scenes, but dissolve in 1 to 5 hours. We know he's very proficient when it comes to stopping crimes and saving civilians. Most of which WE'VE been doing crimes to get his attention or draw them out. Even your hired "watchmen" could barely get near Spider-Man. All we do know for a fact, he frequently does swing back and forth to Midtown. A lot of times. Yet, we can't locate where he lives. Where he goes. Fuck…or where he sleeps. We figure-"
"So a dead end, then, huh? Christ…" Desmond pitches his nosebrow. "I have the funds and resources to catch an idiot in tights who spins webs for a living that, right now from the papers, is back in Red and Blue. RED AND BLUE! How in the hell a suit so obviously bright can't be seen by the likes of you?!"
"I…! I'm sorry, s-sir. I understand your frustration. He's just…fast. In a blur. How he swings. Running up the walls and buildings! Sure, we have photos and videos of Spider-Man of his activities. It's just unfortunate we cannot locate his base of operations nor a place he resides. All we do know so far of how Spider-Man operates. Primarily in Midtown a lot. We have records of his time of coming into Midtown either 6:43 AM to late of 10:00 PM or 12:59 AM to 1:03 AM. With this information…we can deduce fully he lives in Midtown. Just the answer of where he lives." Kells revealed. Knowing this, Desmond straightened his posture. Going back to his plain-blank stare. Yet, still pleased at least additional information for Spider-Man whereabouts. Even though not enough, it was acceptable to a degree.
Desmond only could sigh, right now this was only the acceptable answer he waited for. "(*Sighs*) Fine. That is acceptable for now. So Midtown is where he mostly operates or travels a lot, either in a crime in progress or is residing there. I'm sure at least Spider-Man must live in an apartment complex. Town-housing given by the government. Or perhaps a house for all we know if he's renting or paying it off or lives with someone. Anything else?"
"Well…looking over the history of Spider-Man. Mostly from the Daily Bugle years. Jameson, owner of the Bugle for 25 years, spent a decade trying to bring down Spider-Man for years and years through the press. The DB had one skilled photographer who had gone through it all, taking shots and submitting them at the DB for a decade. One being…Peter Parker. Checking through blogs and even history on the web now, we see many prints of the name Peter Parker on the bottom of every single issue as the main photographer. Other than that…it's really all we have. Unless we find this Peter Parker fella, sir." Kells finished.
'Ahhh…Peter Parker. I've seen that name before. Didn't he own a company? It was small, sure, but it gained a lot of attention when I was away. Yet he…left, during the "Goblin Nation" invasion through New York. Never knew nor didn't care about him then, except for now of how he was the only photographer able to take pictures of Spider-Man. Hmmm…' "I see. Then you shall proceed. Find out where this Peter Parker lives. Without force if necessary. We want information. Not hurting this nobody." Desmond ordered.
"Will do, s-sir. You have our wo-" Desmond hangs up the call abruptly as he takes another sip of his smoothie, as the elevator opens up, he places another smile on his face as he walks past his employees with the happy-mood he displayed.
Long somewhere else in a secluded place, Kells in a jumpsuit finished his words on the phone before being hanged up rudely by his boss. Kells only signs before someone behind gave him an irritated glare, mostly of the call the person, being an older male, 42, with silver hair and eyes in the same jumpsuit as Kells. "Did he just…hang up on you?"
"W-Well…Okay, yeah he did. Pissed off, we didn't give him as much information on Spider-Man. Despite we know where he operates mostly in Midtown. Just not where he lives. I guessed he got pissed off." Kells explained. The older man, by his name tag, Jones. Only shook his head, a tired expression laid across his face, however the irritated look remained also.
"Well that's too fucking bad then. If he's so adamant about finding Spider-Man he would've been here with us or in the team. Looking for the Web-Headed Menace instead of prancing around his company like hot-shit! Then maybe we could speed up this process. But we can't. No matter how hard we try, the Menace disappears left and right. Hell, even the buildings he swings seems to cloaks him, despite wearing a bright costume!" Jones vented, while Kells could only nod at his partner's frustration, even agreeing on Desmond being so...impatient. Whining like a manchild. Knowing how fast and agile Spider-Man really is. It was difficult. Not impossible. Mainly finding the location of the wall-crawler.
So, really, even for Desmond, all underestimated the speed of Spider-Man. Kells turned back on the computer once more, surveillance around Midtown, even hidden spies in the mist. "All we can do is just…wait. Mostly on Desmond's personal watchmen. I swear…that dude is unstable."
Jones raised an eyebrow, "Who? The one with the skull and cloak? Or the one…with that attire on?"
"That one. Good…God…Did you not see it in his eyes?! I swear, the dude looks like he's on something. Wasn't he like, ex-CIA operative?"
"Shit." Jones only said, Kells frantically nodded.
"I…hope to God they just…find his location. Not causing too much harm." Kells only muttered under his breath while Jones watched out for the area, a MP5 sub-machine gun rested on his hands. Still secluded. Hidden away from the public eye. No one knows their location. Only those, even the watchmen, under Desmond's command could only know.
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In New York: The Apartment Of Peter Parker
Time: 12:46 PM
"...I'm really going to blow this job interview, am I?" Peter asked particularly no one, other than himself to then put his suit on the bed. Peter clutched his mask while looking at the time of his phone, then back at this piece of mail he received a week ago. Which read the following, that did leave him…astonished by the reply.
…
Hello, Mr. Peter Parker! We took notice of your interest with our company, even saw your photos you have submitted from your years as a high school student to now in the present day. We would like for you to come visit us for your scheduled interview and meet in person! At our location in Midtown Manhattan, South on Broadway at 37th street! The time for your interview is at 1:30 PM! If you have any questions, please call or email us at any given time! We're so excited to meet you in person!
Signed by Loretta "Molly" Andriette!
…
At the bottom was left with a kiss by someone wearing red lipstick. Which got a look from Peter, no one of disgust nor weirded out. Just…confused. Shaking his head, Peter stood up with his two-piece suit on. Minus the gloves and shoes he places in his satchel, yet kept his web-shooters, disguised as bracelets being brown. Putting on a white shirt underneath his torso-piece with blues jeans on. Wore a pair of boots on, cuffing up a bottom piece. Then had an old-style bomber jacket, worn and given by his late Uncle Ben.
Peter turned to his bathroom, looking at himself. Groomed his hair a bit with a brush, looking at his shaved face, giving his still youthful yet weary look on his face with a mature vibe. Teeth white as possible. His breath not…smelling bad. Even cologne. Given by Johnny to win-up his game, despite Peter just wing-it-out while Johnny goes-all-out, 'Never change Johnny and thanks for the cologne. I just hope it won't poison the air for any girls I walk past.'
Feeling…confident now, he exits out of the bathroom. Turns off his TV yet leaves his stove-light, except Peter quickly turns back to his "Base of Operations" room. Placing his equipment to a hidden compartment, placing his web-fluids and notes into a file cabinet in his drawer, as he turned to the wall of the map of New York and Manhattan as he almost touched a button, he saw her. Well, not her, but the photo of her on the left top and away from his rouges over the years, the picture still displayed her blowing a kiss at him. For the first time in a while his heartbeat skiped a beat. The feelings in his stomach felt the same for any woman he had a relationship with…in the past.
Peter shook his head before pressing the bottom, making the map move over and replacing it with the colors of the walls, being a beige-white color.
As he looks the room up, thoughts pour in through his mind, 'I…I just can't get over her. She really charmed me that night, huh? Even on patrol I can't stop thinking of her in these last few weeks. I'm still somewhat shocked that my mask was able to take a photo of her yet not her information, even a history of her background. I mean, it wouldn't be the first. Check out Chameleon. God, that dude was a pain-in-my ass to fight or deal with. Could it have been Mystique? Eh, no or ew no... I'm not a mutant, yet I had fought alongside the X-Men against the Brotherhood at one point. Or was it with the Avengers before…all of this. But even then, what would she have wanted with me? So may either a mutate or mutant runaway for the X-Men or someone who's…interested in me for some reason? (*Sigh*) Stop it, Parker. Remember, if I could find her. I have to make sure she's not a threat to New York or for the people. Because I won't lie…she does look like the type to hurt someone with use of seduction and even…lust. The scars could tell a thousand stories with her stunning beauty.'
Peter walked over his apartment door, exiting out and then locked it with his keys as he descended down from the stairs of his apartment complex.
As Peter walked on down, he noticed a man sitting on the floor of his door. Mostly in a drunken state. Eyes droopy. Mouth looked wet, mostly from saliva coming down, even the smell of alcohol was on him. Peter, cautiously, waved his hand at the man to then begin to snap at him. Calling him out, "Hey! Hey, man! Hey! Wake up!"
The drunken man jolted up. The man quickly turned his head around and around the area, before landing his eyes on Peter, who kept a friendly smile. However, the man gave a seething look towards Peter, mostly pissed off on something or Peter's awaking, "What? Can't you see I'm s-sleeping here, dork!"
Peter, who still remained a smile yet his right eye twitched by the insult, 'Okay. FWI buddy, only ONE to TWO people on God's Green Earth can call me a "DORK" and one of them was a woman!' "Sorry about that, sir. I was making sure you…were awake. To then warn you on, y'know, people stepping on you or kids poking you. Y'know, what the neighbors do. Help each one out."
Despite the sincerity in Peter's voice, the drunken man still gave a annoyed-glare with then waving his hand, "Oh, fuck off with that kumbaya-sack-of-shit rhetoric. Worry about you and I worry about myself. G-Got it? Good." The man struggled to stand up yet got up on his own before walking in his apartment. Slamming the door shut hard. Leaving Peter alone with mix-feelings. Sighing as Peter walked on out of his apartment complex, with the letter in hand. Using the address for the location, which was on Broadway.
Using his phone for the map to the police scanner, using the satellite to antenna stations around Manhattan for crimes that come along as he walks through the bustling life of NYC. Most of which, Peter was listening to with earpieces on, detected no crime at all. Again, either low or Officers handled it quickly. If only Otto would've kept crime at 60% without being so cold and cruel, maybe, maybe Peter would've been at least…approved of it. However, no matter what for Otto. It was ego and recognition was more of a priority than over the safety of New York for Otto as his time of "Superior Spider-Man" sure, it kept most small-time-lesser crimes at bay, but the brutal-invasion privacy was something accustomed to of what Kingpin or Wilson Fisk done to keep crime a minimum. Just with Otto's superior intelligence with the body of Peter, he was, admittedly, more effective at stopping or controlling crime than Fisk ever did. But again, not out of being altruistic. Only for himself.
Peter shook his head away from those thoughts as Peter got closer to the destination. 'Focus, Pete. You're not dead or gone away. It's working. Some New Yorkers still appreciate your help, than some who don't, and I can't change that. I mean, if I were in their place, I would be hostile to Spider-Man myself. Knowing he'll turn rogue on New York. Being brutal or just…not a hero anymore. I know Otto did his best, but, knowing who he was…it was on borrowed time on how much he'll snap. Mostly when Norman of all people knew Otto wasn't "Peter" Otto just…retreated. Not even a fight back. Just retreated and gave my body. (*Scoffing*) So much for Superior Spider-Man, huh, Otto? Bastard…'
Finally after 10 minutes of walking, with a slight use of his super speed, through Midtown to Midtown South of Broadway. On 37th Street, he saw the sign of the Photography job place. The sign reading in bright-neon-pink, Atomic Sapphira Productions. Intrigued by the sign, yet he wondered what was the actual use of this place. Then a ray of blush crept on his face as his mind came to a quick realization of that possibility, while he facepalm his face in embarrassment.
'Oh God…Don't tell me did I sign up to take pinup shots?! (*Peter sighs to then a groan*) Great. Just great. I'm a superhero from full-time to a civilian part time with a job of taking…pinups photos. I can already hear Aunt May's voice in despair while Jay only shook his head in disappointment with a lecture to then Johnny, Fred and even Randy laughing their asses to kingdom come off while crying and maybe even Felicia, popping out of nowhere, wanting to join in. With her tight-black suit.' Again, Peter stops himself as he calms himself down, to then another reason, 'Or maybe it's an exaggeration for a model-photoshoot place. To attach people with a bold name for marketing. Okay. Maybe that's why it's called that. I hope…'
Checking his phone for crimes at the time, being 1:19 PM. Taking a few breaths in, he opens the door. To be greeted how somewhat cold it was. Nothing is freezing, just cold. Probably the AC is full of blasting. It's almost, no wait, it is October now. Fall is coming. Peter half expected the Heater was on, but met with the opposite. Walking in, he noticed how clean-snowy white the inside of the building was. Compared to outside, using dull-gray color of this being an old theater. Hell, the whole scenery screams 1950's vintage theater. Hell, the old sign is being used. Classical times of the filming industry. Even posters of those times were hung. A, what appears to look like, the receptionist desk is by the posters, 5 chairs in the lobby room Peter guessed from his head. The only thing out of place in all of this was…
"Wait a minute…" Peter moved around the area, "Is anyone in here? Hello? Hello?!" Peter called as he turned to the left and right. Even straight ahead. It was quiet. Eerily quiet. No call back to him. Or anyone. Finding too silent he held up his guard. Waiting for his Spider-Sense to tingle for danger. Taking the time to explore the interior of the place, he noticed only about one theater room by his right while at the left he saw multiple doors then a stairway.
Peter's curiosity got the better of him as he moved his way towards the theater when out of nowhere his Spider-Senses was going overdrive, to the point his head was starting to hurt. 'UGH! S-Spider-Sense is going c-crazy! Normally it tells me for d-danger yet…it's telling me to back away or hide…!' Moving away from the door, his senses stopped. Even the aching headache away. 'Well…whatever it was had my senses go overdrive. I'll…come back to this…'
Making his way down the rooms, he spotted one with being numbered 1st, he opened it. Seeing what it looks like a storage room, mostly with cleaning supplies, a generator, some misc props of the old times laying or up on shelves. Closing it, he moved down toward another door, numbered 2nd, this time with tools and equipment for photo shooting. Items including, backdrops, reflectors, tripods, filters Peter grabbed with different colors, amount of color correction cards, lenses, even a good chunk of LED lights. Lights from being red, purple, blue, peach, mint, pink and magenta.
What drove Peter's attention is an old large vintage movie camera, the Twentieth Century-Fox Cine Simplex Camera to be exact. Sure, by the looks and how a camera like these are outdated, the beauty of standing by one was something else. "W-Wow. I guess despite how modern the lobby was. This place still kept its old glory days to a T. Or whoever the one who brought this place maybe kept-" 'Spider-Sense!' Peter quickly looked behind him to find out…
No one was there.
Coming out of the room, he turned left and right of the hallway. Then up in the ceiling. No one. Sighing. One thing about his Spider-Sense he'll admit, it can get annoying. One minute the Spider-Sense helps Peter as Spider-Man or as himself to accurately predict danger or incoming attack from anything. However in recent years technology improves, so come ways of dealing with Peter, mainly Spider-Sense disruptors or ways to make it go overdrive. Pretty sure Tony Stark has that in one of his armors to counter Spider-Man.
The numbered 3rd door held up chairs, tables, desks to large stacks of copy-paper, even house tools for repairs. The final numbered 4th door had…costumes. Some from way-back-when, modern. Although most were…feminine. Even the rest were mostly retro to current lingerie sets. Blushing, he closes the door. 'All right, Parker. We may never speak, think, mention or even fantasize about this room ever again.' Nodding to himself before looking over his phone, the time being now 1:34 PM. Remember the interview was at 1:30 PM. 'Shit! I'm late! I'm sure the interview is upstairs!' He hurriedly moved towards the stairways.
Making his way up on the upper floors. Seeing how modernized it is on the upper floor over the vintage-retro on the bottom floor. The hallway and floor had the same clear-snowy white color in the lobby area. While also having what the bottom floor held the same types of door rooms, except with 6 over 4. Taking his time, he saw only 3 windows, taking in the normal cloudy sunny day outside. Finding one room with computers, cables and even a large TV displayed on a table. The next one of course being a bathroom, though it's a unisex. Being both genders could use the stall, with a sink, toilet paper, etc. Leaving the area, he saw one door open. He peeked through, this being the studio room. Large, full of space to set up equipment, set up a scene, along with an already setup green-screen.
Peter sighs in relief of knowing this is a regular photography job he applied for. The other room across the hallway seemed to be half-open, a part of him didn't want to be overly nosey, yet…'Wait. I think that's the interview room. Maybe the team or people left for a bit. So…maybe I'm here first? Or not. Well…better to be late than never-'
Peter opened the door to see, not an interview room, but a room with a large Alaskan King-Size bed, being covered in a garnet color large blanket, underneath the blanket has a creamy white color too. With several pillows of different sizes, big to small, to human size pillows. Even a heart shaped pillow on the top. Nearby a small drawer with a lamp, with…items. To then a closet that is closed currently. Yet..Peter's main attention was drawn to a set of…pink-mangta bikini-lingerie with stockings and heels on the bed, the size of the bra being…large for someone. Just…out in the open. Full display. On…the bed. All Peter just did was stand and stare at it with wide eyes. Now the thought of what this job will actually be comes back in full force. 'O-Oh…Oh. oh…Ooh…OH! Oh no…Is this room…' Peter then eyes on the name tag on the top drawer…
Loretta "Molly" Andriette
Peter's skin went pale at the realization that this is the women's room that Peter is supposed to be interviewed by. Before taking his leave out of the room full of embarrassment, he was stopped by someone touching his chest, looking down he saw a feminine hand on his chest, standing in front of him was a young, possibly younger woman, 23.
She had brown hair, with brown eyes, her hair tied to a middle-parted short ponytail with a long silver feather shaped-pin on the side of the hair to the left. She wore a business attire, navy blue blazer to a short skirt that reached her thigh level, with a pair white high-heels. Underneath her blazer was only a simple white-shirt with pink stripes. While she did display having a beautiful face, her body type complimented her outfit. Showing her slender-hourglass, her hips wide yet shaped evenly, her breast cups at the size of F-Cup, making them…big. Despite the blazer and shirt covering them, the size of them still shows that and her entire figure. Literally a walking bombshell model that one Johnny could, and I mean could hook up.
And now she stands there at Peter, her hand still on his chest while he only looks at her, having an expression of a child caught with their hands in a cookie jar or walking in on their parents doing the deed in bed. All she did was only smile at him. Displaying her dashing white-teeth and natural plump lips, while currently wearing bubble-gum pink lipstick. 'Ya know…for a guy like me. Who is smart…I am quite dumb I'll tell ya. And by dumb, it's with my "Parker Luck" to the worst timings ever. And now I'm here with an attractive girl, who I'm guessing is the one I'm supposed to be interviewing with…now in her room. Her room. Hahahahaha…I hate my life. Maybe Otto should've kept my body…' Finding the courage and really nowhere else to go, Peter speaks…"H-Hi…"
"Hi~ I'm guessing you're Peter Parker, correct?" She asked. Her tone of voice sounded so joyful. Carefree. So delightful. Free. Even warm. Although…is she mad? She tilts her head, mostly at the bed. Peter did the same thing, without realizing it, as then she giggled. Peter catches himself too late at what he did, mentally cursing himself, she then took off her hand off his chest while waving, "Don't worry, Mr. Parker. I apologize for arriving late. Traffic in NYC is a pain, but a tradition of the big apple. And…" She walks past Peter, taking her…undergarments and placing them in the closet, swaying her hips and…ass while only Peter turns away, "...sorry about my clothing on my bed and not locking my door. I do have a habit of laying around things where they shouldn't be. And don't worry…I'm not mad. In fact, I'm actually happy you didn't touch them or…did anything weird. And from your face, you were only shocked."
"Oh…T-That's…correct. And, uh, thanks. I m-mean, I mean! Yeah! Yeah, thanks. Of course! I…*ahem* was raised to treat everyone with respect. The best I can. Not all deserve to be respected. If you know what I mean." Peter sheepishly said, scratching his neck as the woman only nodded, still having a smile on her face.
"Then those who raised you did very well. I can actually see that. But…" Closing the closet to walking towards Peter, holding up her hand for handshake,"...on to our introductions. I'm Loretta "Molly" Andriette! But you can call me Molly or Lottie, which I don't mind. However, don't call me "Miss" or "Ma'am", while I do appreciate the politeness, but God, that makes me sound old. Old." Nodding at her words and wishes, Peter shook her hand, with a grin on his face.
"Sure, Molly. And yes, I am Peter Parker. And, you can call me Peter and not "Mr. Parker" 24/7. I've got bad memories of being called "Mr. Parker" on numerous occasions from old high school and my old photographer job." Peter introduced himself, both let go of the handshake.
Then Molly remembers, "Ah~ Now I do remember, the one who took the pictures of Spider-Man through high-school, right? I must say…you have quite an eye! Sure, some were blurry to some even not as cropped in the photo well, but overtime you have improved haven't you?"
Peter softly chuckles at the praise of his photography skills, "Nah. It ain't that much. Most of that I did was for the pay. My…um, childhood had financial issues in high school. Then my…uncle died from a burglar. Breaking into our home and shooting my Uncle." A gasp came out of Molly's lips. She places a hand on his shoulder, despite being 5'7 and Peter, 5'11, she reaches enough to touch his shoulder, giving him comfort and ease.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring such painful memories. I'm sure he was a great man for you growing up." Molly giving her condolences.
"It's okay. You didn't know. And it's fine. He wasn't perfect. But he did his best with me and my Aunt, his wife, who's still alive. So…umm…are we going to do the interview, right?" Peter questioned nicely.
Molly happily nodded, quilty clapping her hands. "Of course~ You're eager to get started? Follow me~" She requested, giving a "Come here" gesture with her fingers. Something about the look to the gesture she made, stuck a core in him. Something he vaguely remembers, yet he brushes it off and follows her to the interview room. She flipped on the lights, a desk or two on the opposite ends with chairs, she turns to him. "Alright, you can take a seat anywhere! I'll check up on the application you have sent me. It'll only take a moment."
Peter nodded in understanding before taking a chair from one of the desks as Molly leaves. Peter, alone in the room, sat down. Leaving his stanchel down on the ground yet beside him on the chair. Peter pulls out his phone, checking in on the Police Scanner, a crime was in progress 3 minutes ago, but suspects were apprehended by NYPD to then no mention of small crimes taking place right at this moment. 'Alrighty then. Nothing big is happening outside of this building or Manhattan. It's about time the Universe eases me off for me to enjoy as Peter. As much as I do enjoy being Spider-Man, which had a lot of ups and downs over the years. But now? Right here? In a job interview…I…I miss this. Just being…Peter, not Spider-Man. Just the man and not the mask in my first ever interview I had for a while. I know. I know. I'm still following the principle of Uncle Ben's words to this day. Even if it kills me…but I'm actually enjoying this.'
The thought of this moment makes Peter proudly smile. Something that would be boring for one would bring in joy for Peter in this moment. Even with Spider-Powers, the thrills, the dangers, the girls, the friends. He's still a human who enjoys little of things. Even if things like a job interview would be more boring to most but precious to him.
After a while, Molly returns through the door, "Alright! I have your application! With your submitted photos and even a resume! Let's get started!"
"Oh, yeah, sure! I, (*Chuckling*), had put a lot of effort into the-" Peter stops mid though his sentence noticed some…changes. Firstly he noticed the shirt she had underneath her blue blazer…was gone. Literally gone. Only now showing her generous amount of cleavage, even how tight they were together. Then her skirt was from short to now…a mini-skirt. Showing a bit more. Of course Peter couldn't help but stare but quickly looked away. 'O-Okay…um…why is she…showing off? I mean…isn't that…weird? I mean, I can't lie, she has a lot of confidence.' "-t-the application, M-Molly..."
Molly nodded while looking through the papers. "Oh, I'm sure you did! If anything you…really gave me everything about you~" She pulls up a chair. Sitting in front of him, close. She crosses her legs over, displaying both how broad-yet-slim beaufly shaped thighs and leg. Cleanly shaved. She had her papers on her lap, displaying her cleavage freely. In front of Peter, who respectful, kept looking at the ceiling with his hands together. "Not only you take photos of our Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man over the years. But also at EXOs. CEOs. Landscaping. Hell, even yourself in engaging backgrounds. Mostly in the snow to the beach. Your composition, rather you know it or not, has improved a lot. Lighting is amazing and balanced. Ooh~ This looks so cute here!" Molly holds up a photo of Peter eating an ice-cream, in which it fell on him.
Peter only mustered a smile, yet on the inside, he cringed at the photo. He doesn't understand or find it cute, more like an idiot who can't eat ice-cream right. Although he remembers something…'Son-of-a-! FRED! I swear to GOD! He set me up! But…wait…she called me cute? HA! Take THAT Freddy boy!' Unknownlily Peter giggles at the thought of Fred losing his shit loudly. Molly picked up on that, Peter waved his hand, "I'm sorry, Molly. Just…just a funny thought!"
"Of course. Oh, wow…Not only a photographer but a scientist? Have a bachelor degree in BioChemistry and minor in Genetics? Even high-scores in Engineering? Huh…Not only a skilled photographer, yet a scientist? And Engineer?" Molly asked. So, amazed at the person she's interviewing is literally a genius in front of her. Odd, yet, a fitting occupations for Peter, yet she had to ask a question…"So…you're a genius. All these degrees, scores, hell, even a company once, yes?" Peter slowly nodded, "All of that and now…you're here? With me? Me of all people interviewing you?! At this point you could've been a renowned all-star scientist! Not…a photographer here for this company. Can I ask, Peter…why are you here?" She said, crossing her arms with a stern look. Not one of being angry, more of being genuine.
Peter…couldn't answer. Yes, he shruggs his shoulders with a sigh, but no answer. Well, an answer. Just not, the whole truth. Even if, right now, Peter could be actually genuine here on Peter's career or his life choices. Like she asked…why was he here?
'I…I…I don't know. All of my life I have always been the hero. Yes, I was born a gifted child that many would call me. Yet, not the most handsome nor strongest. Just the smartest-dork others could mock me as a kid. Now even as an adult, right now still…I don't know. My life between Peter Parker and Spider-Man has been a disconnect. I still wonder how I graduated highschool of the endless tradies, late classes to not even showing up. It always has been two sides instead of one. Doesn't even help Otto's mess of taking over my body for two and half years. Ruining all of the people's lives and relationships I've made in the long run to now being shunned from everyone. Except for Johnny and the F4, Fred, and even Aunt May, who forgave me. I just…it's just hard to pick one. Even right now, my responsibility as Spider-Man calls out to me…even if no danger was happening, my oath to Uncle Ben still remains. Just…when there's been a whole time for Peter Parker? Even now at 27, I barely make decisions for myself, as Peter Parker. Only just for Spider-Man.'
Knowing Molly won't like the answer, it's honest yet a lie, but remembering how he did through all of High school and college, this was the best answer he could give without her knowing who he really is. Turning his attention to Molly, staring directly at her eyes. With a straightface, yet the tiredness remained on his face as she could see it. Yet, he presses on…
"I'll be honest here, Molly…Really, really, really honest here…Even I don't know why I'm here. Everyday of my life has been…complicated. Messy. Sometimes even unforgivable. Missed out on a lot. Sure and I've heard it all before…"I'm smart." or "I'm a born-genius! Born for the Greatness!" "I Could Change the World!" even had my company I've started. Just for only two years. Nothing changed. Sometimes it just doesn't…work out for me. No matter how hard I try. How much I endure. How much pain I go through, alone or otherwise…it's not good enough to…I don't know what I'm really doing with my life. It's like my life has been in the hands of…someone else other than me. I know that life is…cruel. Unfair. Discouraging. Politics. Favoritism on everything and it just…pisses me off. Really it does and…just…so hard to keep going. Even with the smarts. The brains. The amount I can do it's…It's just…! Hard. Or I'm making it harder for me without realizing it. Or being this…decent person I can be without turning out to be an arrogant douchebag is so tempting. And my calling, despite me having the degree, isn't…there in Science no more. Or…I've lost interest. Or again…I don't know." Peter stops before rubbing his face to forehead with sighing.
Normally someone who vents to a stranger or anyone would be uncomfortable being uneasy. Yet with Molly…she nods while keeping the same smile. Eventually Peter puts his hands while looking back at her, who still remained attentive to him. Despite her smile and giving full attention towards Peter, he doubted she'll do anything to keep him happy, "Sorry if I'm rambling. I know its an interview not therapy season so I'll-"
"No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I can see it. You're…struggling. From the eyes and tiredness of your body. I know you've been holding these thoughts for a long time. Thinking of seeing or talking with others about your problems or how life is for you, might make them think of you being…weak. Am I right?" Molly asked, sincerity being shown in her eyes. Peter laid his head down, but nodded. "Don't ever think of that, okay? I know we're strangers. But…even I know what it's like to be at the end of the rope. Hell, I've been to the ground before. And…maybe even you." She smiles at him, while he looks at her in surprise. "It's okay, hon. The powerful-cruel storms to the dirtiest of ground can't stop the likes of me. And you."
Peter could only just look away, yet, knowing what she's saying she could relate to him. Having now a smile Peter could muster, he turned around back to Molly again, displaying her own smile as well. "Thanks…I…I know I've dragged this longer than it should be. Maybe science, for now, isn't my call yet. One thing my Uncle to my Aunt said before, "Life has a lot of roads to cross. It's all up to you to find it." And I guess…here we are." Both shared together a light laugh, her's sounding more angelic and sweet to hear. The kind it felt so…honest. Open. Not judgmental. Just…honest.
"Of course and there's no shame. I know I'm a bombshell, but even…I have feelings and thoughts. Even my time bitching about life. Just those who know how vulnerable you are or can be, will harm you one day. It's…a hard pill to swallow and a reminder of our cruel-chaotic nature yet beautiful-amazing world we call home called Earth, am I right?"
"Yeah. (*Chuckling*) No place like home, huh?"
"No place like home. *Ahem* Anyway! You…have a lot. And I must say, for some. Being a scientist and a photographer may look like an odd combination. Yet, for you, Peter. It's just right. Your degree of learning what is of life to taking photos of life itself really does compliments together." Peter rubbed his neck and blushed but nodded at the compliment nonetheless.
"T-Thanks…"
"No problem sweetie~ I would say…you are definitely overqualified for the job. Quite literally. But hey…more experiences is just about right than none at all. So…with that out of the way! Let's talk about what you'll be doing. You're ready?" Peter nodded, "Good! Basically as the website, the ad and even the sign say, you'll be taking pictures! Shocker, right? Most from commissions here from our clients. Editing photos submitted by private companies, name brands, commercial-business, advertisements, weddings…the usual! Plus…" Then she came closer to Peter with a sly-naughty look, "Taking pinups shots of…me. Whenever a picture shot of me is needed for top-dog players of pin ups or model shooting business, you'll be my lead photographer! From shooting the pics, editing them, adding a charm. Submit them and boom. Job done! Even…private commissions." Molly explained then went back to her seat, still displaying her legs and large cleavage while Peter, being flabbergasted by the job. Of course…it all confirms what he saw and thought of this job.
'Well…It's official, Parker. In the history of your life now…I'm a pinup photographer. (*Sigh*) Sure, I'll be taking regular photos but now with…pinups? I…I hope Aunt May and Jay don't see this. I mean, yeah I'm a grown man now and they don't have a say or stop me from doing this job. It's just…damn.' Before Peter could ask a question, Molly raised her hand.
"And don't worry! Not all calls will be for my pinups. So don't worry! Not all calls of everyday will be about pinups. Just a special types of days we'll be doing those shots. Also, these will be anonymous. Meaning your name won't be plastered everywhere, other than the regular photos! See? Fair deal here!" Molly explained. Easing on Peter's questions, making him sigh with relief, although he was still nervous about the pinup shootings with…Molly.
"I…I thank you for that Molly. It's just…well…" She tilts her head at Peter in confusion, "...well, ya know…I'm a guy…you're a girl and me shooting you with…that type is something I haven't nor never done. Even with my ex." Molly nodded. Knowing how awkward it can be, especially something like this.
"I know and I understand. But listen Peter…you have nothing to worry about. Sure, we've only just met, yet I can see it. You're trustworthy. And I trust you. Don't feel anything bad will happen to the both of us. You respect my boundaries and I will respect yours. Sounds fair?" Peter nodded while she grins, "Alright then! You, Peter Parker, are hired! Welcome to Atomic Sapphira Productions!" Both shook their hands once more before then now she handed Peter papers, the schedule, dates and times of being here to work. Days off, benefits. Even mentioning again, "days to take off WITH pay for ANY circumstances." brought a smile onto Peter's face. If anything happens around New York, like a big-bad, he could call her in. Tell a story, remind her he'll be back and still get paid. As they now walked to the lobby front door, exchanged their goodbyes, "It was…amazing talking with you Peter. I'm sure you'll be a fine addition to our team! The arts of photography!"
"Me too, Molly! I'm just…shocked I'm here now. Hehe…been awhile I have taken photos of anything. But I won't disappoint! Trust me…I still have my skills." Peter said as he made it to the door, while Molly only smirked then playful smacking his arm.
"Oh? You better not disappoint, nerd~ See you on Friday!" Molly yelled, Peter waves goodbye with a smile as he leaves. As the door closes. Peter from smiling to now stared blankly. Then he blinks. And blinks. And blinks. Blinks…and…blinks. He stands there on the sidewalk, standing like a stone with eyes slightly wide. Onlookers took notice, some asked if he was okay, he nodded. Some got confused. Even worried, to someone smirking at his state then joked at him, "I'm not sure about bro here, but he look like he either got traumatized to hell or received the best head in his entire life. Nonstop. No pull. And all IN!"
The joke received laughter, while Peter closed his eyes and went full tomato at the implication of the joke. 'I-I mean…if I was honest here…she had nicely-big lips that looked natural and maybe soft for-AHHGHHHH! NOPE! Nu HUH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…NOPE! NOPE! No, SIR! Relax…RELAX! Calm down! You JUST got hired by her, I mean, yeah a moment happened but ONLY a moment. There's no way in HELL she's interested. Not at this early. So…relax. (*Peter breathes in…and out…*) Alright. That's…over with…' Peter turns his way to the alleyway, taking off his civilian clothing to now his Spider-Man suit. Mask on. Gloves on. Full display, to then him webbing up his personal stuff, as he swings away, loudly screaming at the top of his lungs of excitement. Doing full-360's, flips, jumping over the tallest of buildings, everywhere of excitement. The thrills. The daring leaps he once felt came all back to him.
"Alright, New York! Spidey's back in action! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" As he said, he takes a picture of himself in mid-air with a heart gesture, as he descends down on the streets of New York, but shoots another webbing at the perfect time, flying in the air. Despite the feeling Peter felt somewhere across the city, someone far, far, far looking at him through a scope, gives a grin.
The figure wore an orange-hoodie cloak with combat-navy blue cargo pants with orange boots, right-leg strap for a gun. Wearing a combat-belt with the same color orange to then a satchel bag over his shoulder. Turned his head, showing a beige-face with red eyes. Displaying a sinister-grin on his face, showing fangs and yellow teeth, while he turned to someone nearby him, "Looks like the bug is back in action!" The Hobgoblin cackles loudly before someone else, wearing the same color scheme, but more of white, orange and blue with a white cloak and a skull-mask. A sword by his right hip, a shield on his back. This being of course, Taskmaster. Both saw the Web-Slinger in action, based on the reaction, it would seem Spider-Man was in a good mood.
"Whatever good has happened for him, it won't matter as much. Our sources do confirm his operations are in Midtown. North, South, don't matter. All in Midtown. Whatever we do…we strike here. So keep that in mind." Taskmaster ordered, only for the Hobgoblin shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh you worry too much, Ghosty. I'll be a good boy. Wouldn't want to upset our "boss" or his precious lackeys into any trouble." Then the Hobgoblin jumps on his glider, laughing all the way while Taskmaster only shook his head.
'(*Sighs*) Of all…Of all mercs…he's the one to be hired by me? Jesus…a lot of crazies in NYC. Better here than fuckin' Detriot.' Taskmaster disappears through the shadows of smoke. A day of destruction all for Spider-Man in Midtown. Close to home.
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In New York: NYPD Department, 56th Precinct
Time: 8:56 PM
"Bullshit." Sullivan loudly denied. It's been a month-and-a-half over the two business owners deaths. After the Coroner ran the test over and over, coming to the conclusion both of the victims were stabbed by the same weapon. Same entry wounds and outer. Aside from the death of Kayn Wyatt. Eyes gouged out.
The Coroner, being an older-man, shrugs, "Deny all you want. The fact of the matter is both died with the same weapon. My team to those up in forensics did the same thing, we checked every known bladed weapon from commercial to even antiques. Our conclusion all turned to the same. We have decided that the weapon is either a long sword. The likes of being either European to an Asian hand-made swords. Length of the sword being either at 75 cm (29 in) for both victims. We also concluded both were killed with ranged weapon, being a long-sword. Mostly at the tip being too narrow a bit. It came to our attention that what we're looking for is someone who uses or owns a Katana to pull off the murders." The Coroner gave a full report to the Detectives. Both gave a stunned look. While Quinn asked more questions to the Coroner, Sullivan paced around the room for the bit.
'Katana, huh? That…would make sense. They may only be known for today as an aesthetic to collectors to own one, however in practice, it is a deadly tool. If one mastered one. Katanas aren't just a sword you just use but train for an endless amount of time. Use your own strength to slice or cut through anything. Yet, katanas are more known for slicing. Not stabbing. Unless you're really good or have insane strength or want to break it from the tip. Shit…we could be dealing with an assassin. But, these two were just small times. Not big conglomerate bombing businesses. Unless they had something to hide bigger than we know.' Sullivan finished his train of thoughts as Quinn came by him, notepad in hand.
"Looks like we're looking for a katana, yet, not an ordinary one. We're looking, from the names he gave, to use the types that match the lengths or range are, a Tachi. A Nodachi. To then a Nagamahi. 3 swords made by Japan in the old times of their history, which by their history are known to be longer than any other katanas." Quinn guessed. Sullivan only nods as they leave the Coroner office, leaving the bustling place of Officers, other Detectives with higher-ups. As they moved past them, Quinn remained to speak, "So, both were killed by one of the three long japanese swords. Or at least in range. Like we've said, the killer must be a professional. Yet, aren't they not as much used then and now?"
"You'll be surprised how an old relic of the past can still be used. It's all about the skill and precision of our suspect capabilities. However I'm still…conflicted on something."
"The motive, sir?"
"Exactly. Why them? Specifically For Wyatt. His record…to the charge with Domestic abuse had the worst outcome out of Victor Lee from the docks. Whoever attacked and killed Wyatt, must've had a grudge. Our theories about them being attacked because they were rich can be seen as…too easy for me. Maybe the controversies or…something bigger happened in closed doors with the two. Again, with Wyatt." Sullivan explained while Quinn nodsas they went to their desks, being far but close in one seating. As Quinn moves on his desk, hopping on the computer while Sullivan thinks once more while jolting down on notes. 'Must be something on Wyatt's death we're not looking at. Nothing was stolen. Being beaten at first before being stabbed by the neck towards the heart. Yet an added bonus, his eyes gouged out, head-split opened. Even seemed to have been hit with a blunt object. Yet, no one…even Quinn is mentioning that. Hmmm…'
Sullivan took a quick glance at Quinn, who remained on eyeing the screen of his computer. Taking his "leave", Sullivan patted Quinn's shoulders, telling him goodnight. Sullivan with his bag and suitcase walks on out of the precinct. Mix feelings again over the deaths. Wyatt's being the one. Opening his car door of his BMW, Sullivan placed his badge in the glove-compartment while having his Glock-18 pistol on his side of the driver seat, keeping a backup for such cases. For a Detective or Police Officer, is always to be vigilant.
Before taking his leave, he jots one more note, 'While Kaya Wyatt and Victor Lee both stabbed, Wyatt eyes gouged out, then head-split open. Yet, no signs of reports mentioning that so far. The way Wyatt's death was brutal. Obviously the assailant held a grudge yet hatred toward the victim. Of course checking his wife who moved to Nevada claimed she divorce and left Wyatt back in 2022, so being from a different state to commit a murder is out of the question. Sure, we could say she sent a hitman after him. But, the tone of voice said otherwise, she was actually crying about his death. Sure, didn't deny him hurting her in their marriage. Only the times of work being too stressful, yet I highly doubt that. Even in her voice, she felt she was helding information. Especially me questioning any outside activities of his cleaning business. She went silent. But…I won't go question her. Not anymore. Might as well do this on my time. If I can't answer on the land of the living, I'll go back to the dead and ask questions there.'
Placing the notepad down, with a determined expression laid across his face. Sullivan drives his BMW into the night of New York, aiming to go back to the scene of the crime. Something in there was bigger than what they were missing. Someone held a personal grudge on him. If someone was planning to murder someone, it had at least a personal connection. Something that Sullivan in his mind, is coming to a grave conclusion. Rather he likes it or not…something even the NYPD isn't sharing with him.
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Somewhere Else In New York, Location: Underground Tunnels
Time: 2:22 AM
Only light source through the tunnels were the passes of other trains underground. Passing through in the morning nights of NYC, late passengers ride through in the dark tunnels. All the while a feminine figure walks in the tunnels, despite how cold to dark it can be, the feminine figure, presumably a female strolls through. While she bravely moves through the darkness, her expression remains a face of terror she witnessed. Doesn't help the fact she donned a…skimpy-attire with a large fur coat, covering her beautiful figure from the cold. While having a bag over her shoulder. As she walks more with glances at the back of her head multiple times. Feeling she has walked for hours, her feet gives in to the pain of walking. Quickly she sits on, taking off her boots, massaging the pain away. The sirens of the train blaring through the tunnels, gaining her attention. Thankfully the train moved in her opposite direction. After a 10 minute break, she gets back up. Resuming her walk through while looking at a map, containing an X mark in New York, somewhere upper in the state. Then pointing how far she really was…
Very far.
A long silent stare at how far it really was. Before long, tears inevitably came out to then a loud sob. Knowing how much further she really was. Her hands trembled while whipping her tears away, sighing as she made her lose balance a bit. Yet, still move on despite the news of how far she is from her destination. Unfortunate for her, a red HUD displaying her in the shadows was watching her every move. The red-HUD scanning her. Results showing in bold text.
*SCANNING* TARGET - FOUND
*SCANNING* SPECIES DETECED - CROSS SPECIES
*SCANNING* MISSION - ELIMINATE TARGET. ENGAGING.
It didn't take long as now the woman turns her head before being snatched up off the ground in the tunnels by an unknown assailant. Her screams and kicks were futile, the cries, the begging, the pleas…even a favor was all useless before minutes of screams, metal colliding with flesh over and over as then a death-ringing snap echoed in the tunnels. Then a boot dropped off the ground with the map flying overhead, blood displaying on the paper while showing again the X, along with written words of a location in the upper parts of New York…
Graymalkin Lane in Salem Center, Westchester County in New York. That's where they live here. The Mutants. They will help you, Kelly. Please get here, my love…
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TO BE CONTINUED!
IN: One Sensational SPIDER-MAN!
