*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!
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Issue 4: Dire Intentions
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In New York: Financial District, Home Of The Late Kayn Wyatt
Time: 4:02 AM
"...shit!" Det. Sullivan climbs through the window, landing on the side of his body, yet makes it through. Dusting himself off, before turning the flashlight. Carrying his pistol, Glock-18, on his right hand. "Well…this tells me I'm fully out of my youth. Yet, bootcamp training kicking in."
The home of the Late Kayn Wyatt, still looked the same. Aside from crime scene tapes still in the entrance way of the living room, tags with numbers displayed on the floor, white-out- line of the victim's body, the bloodstained couch remains bloody, sure the blood is dried up yet the stains remain the same. Sullivan took notice of the blood on the wall, fingerprints. "Must be whenever he got stabbed or hit in the head he tried to escape, or buy time for the police to come. Something, right here…" With a phone, Sullivan takes a picture, "...tells me he was running away. Not get hit or killed by being surprised."
Following where the fingerprints land, he moves his way towards the kitchen. Flashlight in hand, he illuminates the area, knives still in their holders. Chairs knocked over, a small table broken in half. Plates to bowls were knocked over, some broke on impact, being glassed. Kneeling down, he saw all pieces, some sharper weren't moved, none were picked up. "Right here…looks something sharp. I figure if Wyatt was attacked, he would take a piece to defend himself. Sure, the edges looked rigged all around for him to grip, but something or anything could have been used to defend himself. Why didn't he take the chance? Either he was taken by surprise or someone he knew after letting them in, assaulted him. "
Taking another photo, he stood up again while inspecting the area. However, the edge of the dining table, the further edge was tainted with blood, even some bodily matter. "Damn…Either this got hit by the head or maybe…his eye. Yet, how it was described in the report, "Eye dug out that seemed to be the force of pulling with fingers" than…here." Once again, another photo was taken.
Moving his way out of the kitchen then onto the living room, ducking over the crime scenes tapes, is the area of the victim. The living room is filled with furniture as one is to expect, most of them being expensive brands, glass-coffee tables, bookshelves with endless amounts of books aside from the fact that one is knocked over, books laying on the ground. Possibility of the victim, Wyatt was thrown or pushed over. It seemed whoever attacked him, had strength to do so as Sullivan kicked the wooden bookshelves, the wood being wide and legitimate. Nothing fake or cheap.
"Well, I can see why it's marked as a surprise killing, a scuffle had occurred, making it look like the victim was taken by surprise. Yet, in the kitchen, it looked more of a fight in there than a surprise attack for the victim. To then here…" Sullivan pointed to the fallen bookshelf, "...it would seem more likely he was thrown in here then pushed to the bookshelves. This confirms it. Someone did held a grudge. But why? And how would they know where he lived? Someone Wyatt either pissed off in his youth or at his workplace? Someone he dated? Someone his wife dated but left for Wyatt? Or maybe someone like the Punisher? Taking out the "trash" of New York? Or something…else? Shit…"
Taking a look at the bloodied couch, it was once skyish-blue, but now looks bloody here. Specifically on the top edge part, now wearing a pair of gloves, he removed the top of the pillow. Showing now a part that held a small cut area opened. Placing the flashlight down then used both hands to rip open the area. Creating a hole inside the couch. Reaching inside with his hand, he pulled out a few items. Mainly, Sullivan pulled out a set porno magazines of walking blondes, then one of a photobook to the last being a small sack. Clues. Hidden inside of this couch, sure he could chalk it up as just personal items for privacy, but anything, anything can have something with a clue.
Leaving the area of the Crime Scene, Sulliavn went towards the front door. Pistol in hand, looking over through the peephole, no one, not even a patrol car came through. He had time. With the items in hand, he sat on the stairs. Flipping through the pages of the porno mags, however, each one had markings, written with a red marker. Each blonde held a circle, some features were marked. Some to chest, hips, ass, breasts, primarily marking areas that some of the models had. Either bigger breasts to small, same with the ass of each model. Even hairstyles each naked blonde had. Some were the same, others different from long to short, curly to wavy to straight. Same for facial features, eyes circle to then marked with words with eye colors. Lips being circled or written big or small or both. Sullivan felt a bit…sick, looking over these magazines.
"Jesus…Fuck…was he marking each of these women of their body parts? From their breasts to their ass? Measuring them by their sizes… Not even on one, but damn nearly every single model here. What I notice most in this magazine is all of these women have the same color hair. Blonde. Blonde, with different hair styles. Does that make him a human trafficker? Perhaps one of his victims was in this magazine, coming back for revenge? With help? Or maybe got someone even more powerful to send a hit on Wyatt?"
Closing the magazine then opening the photo album next to him. Opening up the album, various pictures rested here. The kind of Wyatt and his wife, some by himself, ones of his wife, wedding day. Others were much older. Showing Wyatt's past life. As a newborn, child, teenager, a young man. College, old home, parents. This was expected, skipping through, Sullivan saw Wyatt with men in suits, some young in their mid-twenties, thirties, forties. All deck in black suits, tuxedos, long coats. Hats. Everything to look fancy or rich or tacky. Sullivan assumed to be business partners, strangely another photo showcased Wyatt with a crowd of beautiful women with expensive dresses, a few had worn an array of makeup on, different sets of colors, dresses being long to short to perfect sizes, showing their body types.
Sullivan caught one of the women in the crowd, while having a dress, it was a silk-mini dress being pink with pantyhose, then a pair of white-high heels. The woman's hair color was blonde with a long-messy bang hairstyle, in the crowd she held a Cherry blossom flower with a drink in hand. A, desiring look appears on her face while staring at…Wyatt. Sullivan took a picture of the woman in the large room. Even a second picture. 'Just in case.' As flipping through once more…it was blank. No photos. Flipping through once more…nothing. Closing the book now after taking each picture, he then eyed on the sack. Uncertainty filled his mind before opening the sack. Before he does, he flashes the light towards the upstairs. Nothing in view, yet Sullivan swore he felt eyes watching him behind. Shaking that feeling away, before now shining through towards the kitchen and living room area.
"Alright…Nothing here." Sullivan checks his pistol, all internals good. Ammo in the clip? Full. With courage, Sullivan opens the sack with absurd expectations…
Either a lost finger Wyatt held.
An eye in a jar.
Locks of hair in a bag.
Photos of…children.
Lost drugs.
Snuff film tapes or DVDs.
Maybe even a confession or suicide note.
However all Sulliavn finds is, a stunned look appears in his face, after going through the sack…
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"...What?"
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…is the same Cherry blossom flower from the woman in the photo. A pair of red lingerie panties. Picture of the same woman, in a style of black & white retro 50s look, another photo of her naked in bed, holding blanket covers with an expression of lust and anticipation. Then a final item which fully grabbed the Detectives attention.
An item that completely changes the whole case within…
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A wedding ring.
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Despite the bag of photos that aged for a while, the ring still remains a shine. Being gold, designs showing hearts, flowers, birds, even a quote underneath the ring.
Our souls fell in love long before we ever knew each other, and you're everything I wanted. From the deepest depths of the ocean floors to the highest-void of the stars. Both Now, and Forever.
"Son-of-a bitch! Someone did hold a grudge on Wyatt for…love? Someone Wyatt stole from! Someone from his past! Someone Wyatt was going to propose. Could it be the woman in the photo? It got to be! But…Just…Yet…Who?! Gah! That still doesn't solve the case! Who? Who is this woman in the photos? Someone he had a fling with, or her as an escort? Hooker? Secretary from his business? Old Highschool sweetheart?" Then widen in realization, "Fuckin' A…Now I see why. Wyatt was gonna divorce his wife then marry this…woman. Who, I'm guessing, had to be an escort? He had die hard feelings for her as well. Not only a perv, but also a cheater. Jesus Christ, Kayn Wyatt…you had it bad." Sullivan joked.
Then now, Sullivan stands up after placing the sack in his pocket. Before then as he stood up, voices to steps could be heard. Cursing at himself, Sullivan finds his way to a closet near the living room. Opening the closet, with coats and bags, Sullivan hides himself in. Evidence with him, flashlight he turns off, in his pocket to his pistol on his right hand.
Before awhile, two figures walked in. Presumably through the front door, while it was dark, Sullivan wasn't able to make out two figures in the shadows, yet heard their voices being masculine. Two men in the living room, one searching for one standing with arms in his pockets. They began to talk while Sullivan watched…
"...We've been here enough, J. No need to double check on everything. This place swept through cleanly."
"How about shut up and stop complaining, Q. Just because some are on the payroll of our Director, doesn't mean all of them are. Oughta be glad we came here late. No need for someone to snoop around here." J spoke while Q scoffs with a chuckle, while pacing around. "Bad enough of someone getting nosey about this "case" so far. You think someone would just write this off and be done with back at the precinct ."
"Who? 56st Precinct? J, you worry too much. I'm sure the moles at the precinct are taking care of it. Writing in the report of just a would-be robber turned to a homicide. Always make up a story to make things interesting. But, really, c'mon J, you think they gave a shit for Wyatt? Only known for making cleaning supplies for everyone to buy. Surprised he was able to get on with the Director. Think they had a fling?"
"So? What good would that fuckin' matter? The bastard's dead. Let's get this over with, then back on patrol." J ordered while Q again scoffs but nodded while taking a gun out before walking away. Sullivan ponders on the Director. Sullivan quietly waited patiently. His breathing is slow yet steady. Body stood still. Cloaked along with the coats to bags with the shadows of the night. After a long while, two of the men again met with each other.
"Report?"
"The report, is that no one is here. Although…the window is open. Then one of the couches has some hole. Ripped opened. Freshly ripped open."
'Fuck.' Sullivan curses himself mentally while J sighs while shaking his head, gun at J's side.
"Either one of the NYPD left that open during their "investigation" or would-be-thief saw the tags and was at a crime scene. Think of some hidden jewels inside the couch, saw none inside then left. Leaving the window open to then leave. Or…" J turns his around to then towards the closet of where Sullivan is hiding. Dead staring at the closet, while Sullivan tightening his grip on his pistol. "...someone is in here and you're too incompetent to search this whole place." J quickly turns back at Q who yawns.
"Whatever, J. We have enough shit already. Let's just bounce. Like I've said, no one is here. Let's go." Q demanded before J sighs but nods as they leave the house. Hearing the door shut. Sullivan still kept being in the closet, waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Before long, Sullivan leaves out of the closet. With the evidence he had, Sullivan made his way to the window, as he did…it was closed now. Trying to open it back up, it was locked. Even worse, it was busted in shut.
Thinking quickly, Sullivan ran towards the front door, to find it locked once again. He started kicking it with much force. Over and over. "Fuck it!" Grabbing a chair he launches it towards. Busting a hole. Again. Again. And again. Creating a large enough hole. Kicking it full. As he climbs out. Falling onto the stairs with a groan. Thinking quickly, Sullivan recounted the items he had, mainly the sack. Grinning of what he had, he moved his way out towards his BMW. Keys in hand, unlocking the car…
*WHAM!*
Sullivan was struck by the head on his back. Falling over down on the ground. Then someone closed his BMW, while snickering. "HA! Fuckin' dumbass. Too easy."
"Nosey people always have to play "Hero", picking their noses through people's businesses. Especially an NYPD pig right here." One of them aimed their gun at Sullivan's head, before he quickly kicked one of his Assailants on the knee. Knocking away the gun and the Assailant.
Before long, Sullivan tackles one towards his car. The Second Assailant knee kicked him over and over, punching Sullivan's back. Sullivan, throws the Assailant down on the ground. Kicking him in the face, yet unfortunately the First Assailant stabbed him in the back then slamming his head on his car door. Then again. And again…and…again. Blood spilling on Sullivan's side head as the First Assailant simply tosses him on the ground. "Idiot. You weren't going to win. Not this fight. And this case. Who are you trying to prove to anyone with whatever crap you had in that house? It's over, pig." The First Assailant grabbed the hair of Sullivan, placing the gun onto Sullivan's mouth as now the trigger was about to be pulled…
"HEY! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" Someone shouted, this made the First Assailant turn around towards the civilian. His attention cost the best of him, as Sullivan with a glass bottle, bashed it on the First Assailant's head. Knocking him out, no chances to take. Sullivan shoots both. Holding his head with the evidence in hand, Sullivan flees. Running away as he could hear sirens of the NYPD, a part of him wants to share this information. Yet…he doesn't. Knowing some could be part of this Director's payroll, Sullivan turns away. Leaving as fast he could, limping yet not giving up. 'R-Remember…R-Remember boot-camp…training…C'MON!' Ignoring every single pain in his body, Sullivan remained strong. Hurriedly limping away, staying towards the alleyways, however this was a mistake as before long. Someone started shooting, jumping by the dumpster, Sullivan returned fire. After a while, the gunman started to reload as before long Sullivan fired a shot. Landing it on his head. As the coast was clear, Sullivan limped away again, now starting to feel weak.
Yet, if the world happened to be kind, Spider-Man from the air saw Sullivan limping weakly. Freeflying down, Spider-Man shot a webbing towards a building, safely landing by Sullivan. "Hey…Sir, are you alright?"
Sullivan, eyes being shown with hope turned to Spider-Man with a plea, "S-Spider-Man! SPIDER-MAN!"
"Uh…yes, sir?"
Temperling, Sullivan gives Spider-Man the sack, fear and adrenaline still kicking in, "Listen to m-me! Please! I'm being targeted! And…and I don't know how long I have b-but…take this!" Sullivan grabbed Spider-Man's right hand with the sack, bloody by him carrying it. While Spider-Man, in the mask, gave a questioning look. "I…I'm…I'm Detective Sullivan. I was working on the case for the death of Kayn Wyatt. The one who was murder a month ago. T-This…This sack will show you everything! A-And…he's my phone!" Placing the phone on Spider-Man's left hand, shaking while looking around, "I…I'm going to get killed here. T-Take this! F-Find my pictures from within, finish this case! I…You…You can't trust Precinct…56st. Corrupted…"
"W-Woah, woah, woah, woah, sir! SIR! Calm down! I can get you help! To the hospital! I can-" Spider-Man stops to see Sullivan falling down on the ground. Spider-Man checks his pulse…still kicking, but the body starts to feel cold. While Sullivan struggles to breath, blood spilling out his mouth and head. "No! No one is dying!" Placing Sullivan's on his shoulder, Spider-Man begins to swing towards the nearest hospital, swiftly as he can. 'C'mon, Parker! C'mon! He's NOT dying here! Whatever he was doing got him targeted! Always the cowards who never want the truth to come out.' Spider-Man swings onto the night, while he does, a figure from the shadows tilted their heads, giggling before walking back. As the figure did, a photo of the woman being ripped in half flying down onto the city.
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In New York: Kennedy's NYC Hospital
Time: 5:31 AM
Spider-Man, with Sullivan on his shoulder, made it to a hospital. Spider-Man running inside, "Hello?! Is there a DOCTOR here?!"
Most of the nursing staff looked in awe. Some were shocked. Others being worrisome. Some even turned to accuse Spider-Man of harming Sullivan, despite all of that one doctor saw Spider-Man with Sullivan on his shoulders, he assures everyone to find a gurney nearby, rushing towards Spider-Man. "We have an injured here! Don't worry! We got this Spider-Man!"
As the gurney came, Spider-Man, with the help of the hospital staff aided Sullivan lay there safely. As Spider-Man to the staff ready to leave, Sullivan grabs his wrist, making both stare. Sullivan being more intense yet pleaing, "Don't…trust…56st precinct…" Sullivan passes out, while now the Hospital staff rushes him in, leaving Spider-Man alone with the sack to phone in, dazed by the event. Looking over the items inside the sack, along with the phone. Spider-Man, Peter, held it tight. With a nod, Peter made his leave while the Doctors pushed Sullivan to an emergency room, keeping the wounds intact, aiding the Detective's breathing. As the staff stationed Sullivan into the room, an unknown person eyes on the Detective from the end of the hallway, while the Doctors with the Staff were working with other patients, the unknown person checks on the files of Sullivan, notching him asleep, the unknown person takes a photo before leaving.
Peter swings through the nightly-lit city of NYC after leaving the hospital. Swinging while thoughts rode through, with the sack and phone in make-shitft web pouch. 'Okay…I was right. Something about that Kayn Wyatt fella had to be something more. And here I thought, some parts of the NYPD precinct wouldn't be as corrupted as much. Or on some other "Big Bad Mobster" payroll. Taking over as Kingpin "left" NYC a year ago. Whatever is in this sack, then his phone, must've held something very important for the Detective to be targeted. I should come back here to have more answers, or know who to watch out for. If the 56st Precinct can't be as trusted or any more here, then I know one person I can go to.' Peter finished his thoughts as he kept swinging through the night.
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In New York: King's & Queen's Delight Penthouse
Time: 3:09 PM
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*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!*
"...Godammit…" Zero lazily spoke as she woke up off her bed before shutting off her alarm clock. Taking off the covers, displaying her naked-yet-muscular toned body with four abs visible. Busty hourglass body, with huge DD-Cup breasts while brushing her head off as she stands up, pacing around. Seeing it was 3 in the afternoon, Zero picks up her phone from a table before entering the bathroom. Turning on the water as it begins to fill the tub. While she waits, she places a call as she grabs a towel. The other side of the call answers, asking for a name and number. She responds, "This is Agent Zero. Badge number is 651890. First Command in Recon Olivila. Status report?"
"One moment. Accessing. Information…Confirmed. Afternoon Agent Zero, I hope you're doing well. For the status report on the "Project" had a few setbacks, yet we have new information. Recently our agents up in Riverdale, Sycamore Ave found activity of vehicles coming in and out of the forest. Our "late" suspect said before. Even the same vehicle has been seen over the Hudson River to Independence Avenues, 249th to 254th streets. The vehicles in question we have been seeing are the following, One a gray painted Chevy Express Van then another being two Honda Pilots, black and silver. We noticed about nine suspects who drove the same vehicles consistently. Suspects we have spotted are to be in their early to middle ages. Four in their thirties, five in their mid to late twenties. Each had different ethnicities or national origins, although, all of the suspects are Americans. Five men and four women. It would seem by our reports, each individual has occupations that are associated with docks, boating, wielding, or to a few in lockpicking or locksmith. Some part time. Other's full time. In fact, one had been working in the harbor for 10 years by our intel."
Zero nodded as she sat on the edge of her sink counter while brushing her hair a bit, "Nine suspects. Different jobs. Any criminal history on each one? One's that the slut and the wimp told on with different skillsets for that job?"
"Okay, let me see, Agent Zero…Okay…Give me a moment. Alright. Here. Three were charged with different crimes and served their time. One for illegal substance distribution. One for extortion. The last charged with assault on a NYFD Fireman after committing an arson in a housing community. The rest were clear or no criminal information. Only one was reported for stalking their ex-lover, however it was dropped after another "ex" of the lover was found."
"I see. Any other update on the search? Mainly in the forest for the warehouse that is wooden?" Zero asked before sitting in the tub, the sensation of the hot water felt almost akin to being in a sauna room, Zero moaned in pleasure of the searing water hitting her body.
"We have a location towards the "Wooden Warehouse", Agent Zero." Zero turned her head on the phone, surprised yet intrigued by the info location on the target. The Agent on the line continues. "Mostly it's a glorified large cabin in the woods. It was at first hard to spot, yet reflections of the windows helped us find it quicker. We have eyes and ears in the vicinity. The agents spotted guards with automatic rifles. Possibly M4's or MP7s with heavy gear for protection. I've already placed a team between breachers and snipers on standby. Awaiting your command, Agent Zero." The Agent finished as Zero nodded before caressing her left breast with an excited-lustful smile in the water, finally the news on the target location to…attending her needs filled in her mind.
"Oh yes~ Do wait for my call. I'll be ready soon~" Zero gasped before hanging up the call. She rubs both of her large breasts before going deeper in the water of her tub. Excitement drew in her mind, while the other call on the end was flabbergasted at the sudden hang up, realization came to the caller's mind.
"Seriously?"
After two hours in the bath and private time, Zero began to dry herself off with her towel and dryer. Tying her hair to a bun, applying her usual makeup, a dashing eyeliner and shadow. Tan-Glossy lipstick color for her lips. Exiting the bathroom as she walked up to her closet, pressing a button to reveal an array of equipment. Taking her time, she grabs a firm navy blue skin-tight suit. White gloves and boot-heels. A chest-rig harness with pouches for AR to SMG magazines, a holster for two handguns to fit. Picking up three AR mags and two SMGs mags, along a medical kit. A tablet to fit in her hand. Zero leaves out the closet before pressing the button again, sealing the room. Grabbing a large gray fur coat, she leaves her penthouse room. Placing her phone on her hand, walking down the elevator, "This is Agent Zero. Code Eagles. I repeat, Code Eagles out."
"Yes, ma'am."
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In New York: The Apartment Of Peter Parker
Time: 8:59 PM
"Okay…what the hell, dude?"
For the whole day Peter Parker spent the day in Atomic Sapphira Productions with Molly, while making room for Superhero work. For the day in, Atomic Sapphira Productions, or ASP for short, was relatively quiet. With the occasions of Peter and Molly talking with teasing coming from his boss. Interesting about ASP with Molly, they hold over just two locations. One in New York, another in Florida. Odd, yet fitting places to do photo shots. Although down in Florida, being warmer, is popular to go or visit…Unless of course you don't mind getting hit by storms or hurricanes on a daily basis.
If one were to admit…he was glad at least ASP isn't a major photoshooting job. As in, most of the work or commissions they received was mostly through email to request photo editing, adding more charm or cleaning up the photos. Some were good, others…fine. Yet, with time and practice by Peter, all were flawless. Most of the time. As Peter worked each one from mail to online, Molly kept him with company. Small to long talks on careers, life, some relationships. Funny to even a shock from Peter as he heard Molly was single. No boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Just…single. Peter, respectful, asked if she had plans on dating in the future to which she responded, "No." Molly clarified she was more interested in her career over finding someone at the moment. Peter nodded, understanding where Molly was coming from. Molly then asked if he was in a relationship. He replied "Yes." but rather not talk about it. Molly, respecting his wishes, nodded and left for the building after receiving a phone call. After a long day editing at the studio, Peter, dawning his suit after bidding his farewells to Molly, left for work. Stopping two-timing crimes, laying down on the thugs trying to rob a store near the studio. Saving the lives in Midtown, especially one who fell off the roof. Thank you Spider-Powers.
Right now in his "base of operations" room of his apartment. Peter laid all of the items from the sack to the phone on his table. Looking at each one. The cherry blossom flower. Photo of the woman. A pair of red lingerie panties. Picture of the same woman, in a filter style of black & white 50s look, another photo of her naked in bed, holding blanket covers with an expression of lust and anticipation, of course making Peter be…taken aback on how graphic it was. He placed the photo on the other side. Face down, placing the panties back in the sack. Yet, kept the wedding ring, with the engravings on the inside, on the table with the photo and phone.
Using his computer to gain access to the Detective's phone. Killing time for it to finish, Peter looked at the picture of the woman. The one in his hand showing her looking down, a smile rested on her face. A sundress, Peter guessed, in an environment with grass as she sat down in a blanket. A picnic. Perhaps sitting down on the ground in the park. Turning the photo Peter did to only find it blank. "Figures. The way this picture was taken, had to be something of an old camera. Well, not old, old but something close to a modern camera. Probably a polarized camera."
Once again, Peter looks at the woman's face again. Seeing, despite the filter being black & white, she had blonde hair, a hat rested on her head. A ponytail Peter could make out the woman had. Curious yet confused on where it was taken, sure, it could be in a park or a forest. Yet, the angle was downward and only showing her in the main center. Scratching his head before then now the progress on the Detective's phone went on 91%. Sitting the photo down, Peter waits fully on the files coming in. "Alright. Moment of truth."
After five minutes of waiting, all the information came up on Peter's computer. Involving the photos the Detective took of the crime scene. Places of the bloody handprints, the kitchen area being a mess, broken shards of glass plates or bowls, blood on the edge of the table, bloodied stains on the couch to a fallen bookshelf. Catching Peter's attention was the fact of the…nude models. Every single one had red-markings of their looks, body parts, same color hair being blonde with varieties of different hairstyles. Looking at this, differently was a porno magazine, yet why? "I don't know if this was part of the evidence the Detective had or saw, but seeing from how it was dark and this was shining with the flashlight. Maybe it was in the crime scene Detective Sullvian saw. I think…But…jeez…if that was true, then this Kayn Wyatt had to be a perv. Marking each woman with a marker on their…body parts? God…"
Turning away from that, audio logs were discovered from the phone. Mostly from the information each came in, were personal logs from Detective Sullivan. Peter clicked one. Mostly a recent one from last week.
"Personal Log number twenty-two. Wait…No. Number twenty-six. Personal log twenty-six of me, Detective Garry R or "Roddy" Sullivan." From the recording Sullivan's signs for a minute before speaking again, "This case. The murders have been on my mind for awhile. Specifically the murder of Kayn Wyatt. His death, versus Victor Merlenn Lee, was much more brutal. Details I noticed more was the fact Wyatt's head was split open, exposing an opening on his brain matter. His eyes gouged out. Even ribs kicked into his organs with such force, that you could mistake it as if was hit by an 18-wheeler or bus. The "report" wrote that a "force pulled with fingers" is the cause for the missing eyes…I call that bullshit. After looking at the body for myself with pictures over and over again. I deduced his eyes being more…beaten to a pulp than pulled. I can see why they marked it as "eyes removed by fingers" rather than "eyes being so beaten, they were caved in the skull of his head over taking them out". Sure, I can be guessing or going over my head on small details. Although being deployed overseas and seeing hundreds of deaths in a blink of an eye. From shots fired or seen men and women being beaten to death by the enemy. I probably know more about death in every detail than the Coroner could ever see. I know when someone is beaten so much, half of your face can be caved in and mistook for digged out or "disturbed".
Peter winces at the details of Kayn Wyatt's death. Adding more information that the news really did say was too graphic to hear or see. He noticed how Sullivan talked. Gathering what he heard, Sullivan must've been a soldier deployed overseas, seeing his fair death and bodies.
(*Sighs*) Anyway…Whoever did kill Kayn Wyatt was much more than wealth or status as a businessman. The deed was done in a more, "vengeful" or "vindictive" although both are the same, yet being more vengeful…it can be intense. And for the case of Kayn Wyatt…the deed was done in a vengeful act. But…who? I can understand that Kayn Wyatt was abusive from his domestic charge and his wife testified against him in court. I…I honestly did expect his wife to have done something, yet, from her tone on the phone she was more…merciful. Crying out "poor Kayn", "why him", "who would do something like that" type of cries. Sure, she can be a forgivable person or not as spiteful, however, I couldn't help but find it…odd. Not her, yet what she was withholding. Even as I asked her about his "affairs" with work or his private times, she dodged the questions, to even ask if he had "fling" with someone…she hung up right then and there. With the abrupt phone call hang up…I figured he must've cheated on her with someone else. Or…one could have manipulated him into a "relationship" as a cover to seek his wealth. Or…maybe even blackmail to do their biddings. Yet…WHO?! Who was it? Who did it? Why did it happen?! All of these questions yet no fucking answers! Fuck!"
The background of the recording sounded like someone, mostly Sullivan, punching an object with a huffs and puffs with an amount of cursing. Peter nodded in understanding when it comes to street-crimes, mostly solving a case over just punching bad guys or supervillains. Peter could relate to the Detective. Although, who wouldn't be? After a while Sullivan recollects himself, yet still sounded angry on the recording.
"All I'm leading up to is just fucking deadends! Even when talking about this, it's brushed off or fucking told to drop it and handed it in as a "home-invasion" gone fucking wrong. It's like someone or even everyone back in the Precinct is just…telling me to stop. "Let it go." "He was a wife-beater and a cheater" "A worthless business owner pig, drop it". All of that horse shit. Hell…even Quinn was starting to tell me to just finish it. I don't what's going on nor what's the fucking deal…but I'm going to find out. My guts telling me something else is going on more than what the Precinct. Both on the Precinct and Kayn Wyatt's death. What I truly know is this…someone held a grudge against him. When seeing the chance…they took it. What would need to crack this case is this…who and the real reason. End of log. Signing off."
With that…the recording cuts off, displaying more, yet the ones were older and dated than the recent one. However, marking the recording file Peter just heard as an archive in a folder. Peter sits back on what he heard on the recording of the Detective, the pictures, the items and the wedding ring with the flower on his desk. Much like the Detective said…More questions…No answers. Rubbing his head with the same irritation from the recording while looking over the evidence once more. 'My own conclusion is that Kayn Wyatt must've done something to earn his brutal end like that. By these photos and the record just now. I think I'm certain whoever Kayn Wyatt had a fling with, their ex's or maybe even another lover took notice and did the deed. I mean, cheating and adultery are terrible if your partner isn't faithful or loving, but the length to go and just…off someone like that, despite him being a prick of hitting his wife or being an abuser…I just…couldn't do it. A simple punch would've been the end of it or that's something I would honestly do. But this level…man…'
Once again Peter looks at the wedding ring once more. The shine. The clear-crystal gold crisp. Hints of tiny diamond pieces inserted. The size of one being for…a woman Peter took notice of, also gave another notion of the context, '...this even adds more fuel to the flame. Marrying someone else who has been your "fling" with. Jesus…whoever the guy or maybe a girl was…mad. Madder than ME and I had that damned alien for a suit like 6 years ago before getting rid of it. Damn.'
Placing down the ring back on his desk while walking up towards the wall-board map of Manhattan. Seeing what possibilities about who could be the murder. Although knowing about 8 million people that could be potential murderers would take…years to figure out who. Sighing how long it could be, he sees the years of the villains he fought, made by accident or true evil on the left of the map. From mobsters, intelligent ones, monsters, even superpowered levels he had fought, beaten, lost, won…While he did…Peter laid eyes on her on the top of the board. Taking the photo, he stares at it for…awhile. Her simply just blowing a kiss. Both when he saw her and now in the photo. Peter sighs while lowering the photo down. He kept on looking for her in his patrols over New York and working in ASP. Yet, no matter how hard, places, rooftops even back in Time Squares…she was nowhere to be found. While sure it was to find her yet making sure she wasn't a threat for Peter or New York.
Yet now with the Detective out of commission and the case "still" being open, Peter groans a bit. More adding work as Spider-Man. Peter mentally thanks Molly for at least if he needed any time off with pay. He could call anytime. However, he doesn't want to abuse the system the company of ASP has. Sure, if it's for family he could lie about it, but that's been done to death and Peter honestly hated doing that. Yet, solve what the hell has been happening, or this case. Only one he could talk to. Taking back to this seat, placing the photo of her on the desk nearby the wedding ring, Peter pulls out two cards. What's been happening in the shadows will face the light of the truth…even if it's the kind you don't want to hear nor see. Something Peter...by this point was accustomed to for years…
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In New York: Upper New Yorker, In the Woods…
Time: 12:01 AM
"Report on the area?"
"Area is secured. So far at least…"
"Why are you saying that?" A guard asked while the first Guard puffs out a cloud of smoke in the air.
"I don't know about any of you but I kept getting the feeling that some eyes have been watching us. I don't like it. And it's not our cameras installed here. But just…something out there. Watching. Either the undercover or the feds. My guts are telling me something different. You know what I mean?" The first Guard said as he smoked, while the other nodded, taking in what his partner was saying.
"Damn. This early? We've been cooped here in this forest for over eight months now. And then now all of the sudden we got some eyes watching us? Fuck…"
"That's what I'm saying. Maybe a rat in our midst. Perfeat. A rat to deal with now. Can anymore shit-"
They were interrupted by thunderous sounds of moans and flesh pounding on the inside of the warehouse. Both stood at the back, knowing the two story floor window was shut and darkly-lint. Making both the guards huffs of annoyance with disgusted looks, looking up. They were a bit appalled how they could hear everything. One of them just shook his head, while the other just looked with a repelled posture. "Jesus! They're doing it now?!"
"(*Sighs*) I wouldn't even question it, buddy. I wouldn't even question it. But damn…that guy is really giving his all." Of course the woman's moan kept getting louder and louder, even hearing the man's huffs while the slapping kept going over and over.
"Fucking pricks. We're busting and freezeing our asses off and they get to fuck inside, warm with hot-chocolate, blankets and shit."
"Eh, I wouldn't worry about it. If anything, the guy is fucking that tiny-tits lady who uses multiple bras to make her tits look big!" Both laughed while the sex was happening upstairs. As they did their radios came in, they stopped their talks. "This Oscar and Liam. What's the status?"
"This from command, we have new orders to report at the front gate. All of us. Yet, don't contact the inside. Not just yet. Be there pronto."
"What's happening?" Liam asked before placing the cigarette down on the ground.
"We got…new orders. Meet at the front gate." As the guards made their way to the gates, two men behind them out of the corner of the warehouse, in all dark-navy blue military uniforms opened fire on them. With suppressors attached to their AR rifles. Both feel to the ground while dragging their bodies. As they did, each other guard around the perimeter were taken out one by one, some by a sniper in the distance, others stabbed in the neck from behind then carried into the shadows, others shot in the head.
After the silent carnage in the warehouse compound, about 30 guards were taken down. The men with women in all dark-navy blue military outfits waited for Zero, who arrived in her very tight navy blue skin-tight suit, those clinging to her breast and crotch area well. With two pairs of White gloves and boot-heels, with her MP7 with suppressor on the barrel with smug-smirk.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. Nice work. I'll need about five in the gate and the rest to secure the area, you six…" Zero points out six soldiers. "...to come with me inside. Find these suspects and the "Project". ¡Vamos a movernos!" Six soldiers nodded while the rest moved into their positions.
Zero and the six soldiers move in to the front door. Zero with an earpiece clicked it on to speak…"Sir, we're at the target location. All guards are neutralized. Suspects are inside."
"Good. Find that "Project" and burn the place down. Make it a small wildfire and an "accident" to avoid suspicion. We need that "Project" Zero. Eagle out."
"Hehe…Zero out. El viejo." Zero giggles as the soldier who picks locks the door. We nodded its open, all seven, including Zero, moved in silently.
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Inside the warehouse people were in a lunchroom. Wide table in the middle, refrigerators and stove on the right-end, couch and TV's in the front. Four people were sitting on the table while the last person was on the stove. Cooking homemade stew. They were chatting on businesses to sports for the moment, as they did and unfortunately for them. They heard all the noise from upstairs. The sex had been happening for a while. The three shook their heads while the last one on the end of the table sighs while throwing their hands in the air. "Can they not do it here?"
"Aww…someone jelly?"
"I ain't jelly, Mark. I'm over here writing this shit down on the report. I can't focus on nothing when both of them are literally fucking upstairs!"
"Nah, someone is jelly." Mark joked while the last one just waved his hand at him in dismiss.
"Well…at least they know how to have a good time here for a while. Cooped up in here for months. I know our employer would pay us handsomely. Yet…when is that coming? I had to literally fake a story about my wife who's "pregnant" and needs help for eight months and leave at the docks I work."
"Gotta be patient. I don't like it myself, but I'm sure it'll be done. Just gotta make sure, Katie, the one upstairs getting the time of her life, will still be with us to report it for our employer." The man said while brewing the stew up.
"Hope so. Last thing we need for her to get pregnant by Sammy. God…those two are like fuck-rabbits. They just done it a week ago here." A woman added while rubbing her forehead a bit, taking a sip of water.
"Well look…All I gotta say is they either keep it down or someone gonna leak. We don't need her and Sammy dumbasses for us to get caught-" As the man was gonna finish the lights went out. A few of them jumped. Taken aback how sudden it happened. Confusion and then fear was in the midst.
"Yo…what the hell?"
"Hey? What happened?"
"Fuck! I hate it when it's dark! I can't s-see!"
"Guys. Relax now. I'm sure it's just-" Something stumbles on the ground.
"H-Hey…Neal? Neal, you there? HEY! Who touched-" Another stumbles on the ground, a few who remained yelling in the darkness…
"O-Oh my God…No…No! Mark! MARK! Greg?!"
"Y-Yeah…L-Listen Wendy…Just stay where you are and I'll…!"
"NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! HELP ME! D-DON'T TOUCH ME! GREG!"
*SNAP!*
"W-Wendy…W-W-Wendy…Oh no. No. No. Nooo…Oh GOD! PLEASE STOP! WHAT'S HAPPENING?! HELP!" Greg sobbing in the dark, calling his colleagues names praying for the madness to stop. Yet before long the lights turned back on. While Greg who can see…wished he didn't see.
Neal at the stove area was on the ground, blood on the floor. The stew in the pot fell. Mark, the one who teased him, was on the table head down, neck slit open. The other man, Tobias, was shot in the head and on the ground, dead eyes looking up at the ceiling. Then he saw Wendy on the coffee table with her neck snapped. Greg was shaking while tears from his eyes rained like no tomorrow while yelling, grabbing his head with eyes closed, hoping this is just a prank at the gruesome scene. Yelling and yelling. Before long he stops. Opening his eyes now he saw six soldiers standing in the room. Looking at Greg like a hawk, before Greg could stand, scream and run, Zero from out of nowhere was behind him, grabbing his month, then pinned him down on the table while giving a sinister look.
"Hi~ Greg, is it? How are you doing? Awww…I'm sorry you had to see your "friends" like this. But we couldn't help but notice how angry you were at this "Sammy" fella banging your woman. Sad, but you're even a sadder man who couldn't keep a wild girl like that. So…here's the deal, baby…Tell me where this Katie slut and fuckboy Sammy is and I'll make it worth your while or…" Zero, with an impressive amount of strength, turned Greg over, making him and her look, her large breasts touching his chest, one leg from her up, yet held a knife to his cut. Cutting hint of blood on his neck, "...I'll take that sluts head from upstairs and fuck you with it like no tomorrow or gut you alive here. Do you understand, señor?"
Greg nodded hastily, "Y-Yes…I-I…I…I d-do…b-but…please d-don't kill m-me…"
"Then tell me where the room is, baby~"
"R-Room 12 to the l-left…near a window in h-hallway. It has f-flowers on the door. That's…her office and room t-there." Greg told Zero and the soldiers.
"See, señor? Was that so hard?" Greg wimpers a bit, while then Zero gives a merciful look towards Greg, "I know what I said and I'm sorry…A woman you devote yourself to being so unfaithful to you is so unfair and cruel. But…I can take care of you sweetie." Before inching to kiss Greg, as he waited with eyes closed, she slit his throat swiftly. Blood spilling out of his neck, as he did his best to stop the blood from coming, she stabs Greg at the back of his head as he drops on the floor. "Shame. He actually looked cute.." She shrugs, "Oh, well. Let's go."
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"Fuuuuuuck…baby…that…that was something else." Sammy said as both laid on each other after intense sex they had. Katie giggled while resting on his chest, both nude on the covers.
"Hahaha! Well I'm glad someone, yourself, who could keep up with me. Satisfy me better than Greg could. I really do appreciate what you did for me."
"Not a problem, baby." Both kissed in the bed for a while before placing his boxers on while Katie remained in the bed, naked but under the covers. While Sammy places his pants, shirt and holster on with his pistol, she texts Greg on "plans" after work to her family. They keep the cover of them being "perfect" couple, since of course really why her and Greg being together was more arranged. While Greg genuinely did what he could, she barely did anything. Other than just putting on an act, being "friendly" with Greg to keep her own family happy, despite her wishing nothing more but to leave them. "Sure you parents may one day approve of this?"
While still on the phone, Katie rolled her eyes in disgust, "Fuck them and their traditional old-bullshit ways of marrigage. They're nothing more but a bunch of old outdated-bygones with nothing else to do but boss me around. Hook me up with another family's son. Once we, you and I, get paid. We're leaving New York city and the state."
Sammy winced at the harsh words coming from her, admittedly what both were doing was wrong. But for Katie, what was the point in an arranged relationship if it doesn't work nor last? This was going to happen regardless. "Damn, Kate…Just like that. I mean…yeah I don't agree with them on stuff like this, but going that far on your old folks like that?"
Katie turns back to Sammy who finished dressing himself, with the holster on his side-right leg, to which she gave a confident-smug look with a smile, "Just like that sweetie. And who cares? I'm a grown woman. I know more of what to do than what they think anyway. But~ Same plans tonight and more fun for me?"
"HA! I wouldn't miss it for the day. I'll bring something special soon." Both kissed once more while Sammy exited out of the room. "See ya tonight."
"You too, Big man~" As Sammy left. Katie gets off the bed, feeling dizzy by the act they did but with enough strength she gets up, places her violet panties on, yet leaves her B-Cup breasts out, since she was in her office alone most of the time before placing her on the jewel Katie took off. As she does while sitting on her chair with the computer. As she did, her phone rang. Answering the phone, in which her father was calling, "Hey, Daddy."
"Hey, honey! Hey! Just calling to make sure you were alright!"
"Hey…thanks Dad. I'm fine. Really I am. Just making some plans for me and Greg to do. Thinking about doing some sight-seeing back in Washington Heights or Fort George. Since you and Greg with the uncles love history and, well, guns and such. I did it for me as a treat!" Katie while writing papers of work and report.
"Atta girl! I'm glad you are both doing well. As long as you both are, I'm well. And remember Katie…"
"...if he does break my heart or do anything cruel to me…call you and the uncles. I got it!"
"Good. I'll be going now. Hope to see you on the weekend for the fish-night-on out with you and your mother! Love you, honey-bunny!"
"Love you, too, daddy! Tell mommy I said hey!" As her old man laughs and farewells his goodbyes. She hangs up the phone. After the call Katie gives again a disdainful look. "Yeah…fish-frozen-weekend my ass. God. Can they get out of that 1950s mindset bullshit?" After a while of writing on reports, she begins to place each paper in a file basket. Threw some in a cutter. Straighten up the office and her bed to be more professional over personal time. Gotta keep a reputation, even if people know it's obvious. After about three hours of her sitting with a wine out, still in panties and no bra with necklaces and rings on. Katie heard her door knocking, seeing the time and knowing her workers still inside or leaving she quickly grabs a silky night robe on. Knowing if they're gone, they're gone and with Greg. Well…Greg hadn't really responded yet nor even texted her back. Yet, Katie didn't care. As she walked towards the door with a seductive look on her face, with makeup on, hand in place on the nob. Opening the door, wine in hand, "Hey Big Man-"
*SMACK!*
She didn't finish as Katie was kicked at her face. Feeling one of her teeth out of her mouth as she lands on the ground whimpering. As Katie did, she saw Sammy. Bloody, beaten, tortured. Hell, one arm snapped in place and was simply tossed on the ground like garbage. Katie screams in horror at her lover's state, even crawling to him, begging him to get up. "S-S-S-Sammy…Sammy…! Sammy! SAMMY! SAMMY! Oh God…! God! Please…no…" She turns to the soldiers who simply stare at her in their tactical helmet gear.
Not showing their emotions to her, their auras bringing a cold chill in the air, as she begins to crawl away yet the three chase, grabbing her arms as they pin her to the bed, ripping off her silk-robe off, pinning her down, two holding her arms on opposite ends while she screams and begs, rocking her body to pry off their grips, kicking her legs and feet until the third soldier held them down, yet no matter how hard she tried, their grips was stronger than her's, panic sets in, "NO! NO! N-NOOOOO-! NOOOOOOO! PLEASE DON'T! PLEASE D-DON'T! D-Don't…!"
"Ah…look at that." Katie stops before seeing Zero on her desk on the computer to go through her dresser, she was baffled how Zero was there so quickly, while the three pinning her down, the remaining three got work on trashing the place. Ripping the walls. Bashing out the closet. Throwing her clothes on the ground like nothing, some found files, flash drivers, even paper work of reports. As each three soldiers placed the items in a duffle bag, Zero, plastering a grin on her face, made a gesture to the three soldiers pinning Katie on the bed. Knowing the gesture to "Come here with her", they drag her infront of Zero who held up a flashdrive off Katie's computer, with more files in hand. Mostly mentioning the "Project" report, Zero came face to face with Katie, who was terrified of what's happening or was going to happen to her, which made Zero's smirk grow wider, "Hola, amiga~ How are you doing?!" A fake cheer in her face while Katie, who couldn't hold it, cries. Tears. Blood. Mascara being ruined from the cries. Zero gives a "pout" look of "pity" as Katie continues to sob.
"Awwwww…what's wrong, Girl? Did it hurt? Did I kick you hard enough at your pathetic-bratty face? Oh, we pummeled your bad-Big-Man boyfriend until he gave us what we wanted? Ashamed you're now alone and must face your consequences? Awwwwwww…you're gonna make me cry! And I don't like crying." Zero mocks her by crying and crying until then laughing while kicking her legs up in the air, some of the soldiers began snickering by this. As more of Katie's cries became louder. Begging, her mouth bleeding as she began to speak.
"P-Please…! P-Please…d-don't kill me…W-What…Whate-ever I've d-done…I'm s-sorry…I'm s-so sorry…please…! M-My m-mouth is…hurting…please…I'll…I'll d-do anything…anything! DON'T KILL M-ME-!"
*SMACK!*
Zero slaps Katie hard, shutting her up. Once again at her mouth, making more blood spilling. Now Zero went from laughing to now a disgusted-cold look at Katie, seeing her pathetic-pitiful state. "Quiet. The Adult is talking here. And if you're ready to do anything. Then you're going to listen to me. Got it?" Katie frantically nodded. "Splendid! Now, amiga…!" Zero, taking off her right hand glove, showing her sharp-long nails to then firmly gripping Katie's head, placing her hand and nails on her scalp. Katie yelps at the feel of her scalps being stabbed, yet Zero grabs her bloody-mouth, making them stare at each other while Zero remains the cold-look, it was intense. Mostly on how close both were now on. "...You're going to give me everything. And only everything I need and want. Because my employer is getting uneasy and more pissed off on finding this…"
A soldier came by, displaying the blueprints to then the picture of the "Project". The "Project" was an 8'ft tall large humanoid-automaton. Something akin to an Iron Man suit, yet the outside to inside were all mechanical machines, can be piloted by either a human or A.I. to do it's bidding. Huge gauntlets and rocket-boots with immense amounts of armor plating, one that rivals the Senetials level or protection. Main difference, one is used for mutants. The other is used for both non-mutants and mutants. Even able to take on super powered individuals who are not mutants. Even adapt better than the Senetials. The color scheme being gun-metal gray with hardern adamantium on the rest of the body.
Katie, by her face, went pale. Zero smirks, "Ahhh…seems like you know what I'm talking about right?"
"Wha-?"
""Wha-?!" "Huh?!" "why?!" Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heard it all before. You know what the hell it is, right? Now…Tell us…Where. Is. It?"
Zero digs her nails back on Katie's skull, making her scream, after only just 20 seconds of inflicting pain, she finally gives in. "A-A-ALRIGHT! I'll…I'll t-talk…please…n-no more…" Zero lets go while staring down at Katie as she waits for an answer, "...the "Project" you're a-asking about…yes…it is here. We kept it hidden and g-guarded here for months. Months. Our tech support here runs d-daily tests to ensure the "P-Project" is stable that I write and send it in to our e-employer for reassurances it's in our hands and stable. Nothing of outside interference. No breach of the n-network. And for a while…it was quiet. Until you…and e-everyone here came along." She finished, a hint of venom and hatred arose, in which Zero nodded with smirk. Yet, she continues, "W-Which I don't know how the fuck you and these men came into the woods?! How?!"
"Oh we know. We've been monitoring you and the employees here for a while now. A good long while now, darling. Oh…Well, a little help. Word of advice though…" Zero threw the pictures of two people, one man and one woman dead on the ground, showing their faces while Katie screams in horror. "...pick stronger people to hire. The kind that won't rat out their partners in hopes to leave no matter the pain others will inflict for information. Without these two weaklings…we wouldn't be here. So…you and these two got yourselves to blame when withholding a weapon of destruction worse than the Atom Bomb or any mutant or Sentinel could ever do here in the United States. And so now this is what you're going to do…" Zero forcefully grabs Katie's ear, using a coat and placing it on her before Katie and the six men, who killed Sammy by this point, went down her office into the main room of the warehouse, "...is to take us there. Now."
No choice but to comply, Katie with a key of each dead "employee" to a command console, inserting each key. Twisting and turning until an audible, CLICK, opens up a keypad. Inputting the password, along with a personal question to be answered. In which Katie answered all correctly, she with everyone else beside her watched as a large door from below the floor opened up, Zero ordered one soldier to standby while giving another one to write down the password and taking the keys away from Katie. As they descended down Zero was handed everything from one of the soldiers.
After some time the floor, which had been turned to an elevator, finally landed on the "ground" of the warehouse. As they did, they noticed how colder it was down here than the upper level. With flipping the lights on. The whole lower floor lightened up. Displaying how spacious it really was, crates were seen. Yet, mostly were just equipment for the "guards" Zero and her team took out an hour ago. Walking while the five soldiers survey the area for hostile threats. Seeing none so far, Zero with Katie and the soldiers finally got to the final room. Zero stops them, as she grabs Katie, shivering from the cold. Staring at Katie dead in the eyes, "Is this the room? Is this the room?"
"Y-Yes. Yes it is…"
Zero gained closer to Katie's face before grabbing her throat, "Is it?"
"YES! YES! YES! P-PLEASE…IT'S IN HERE! I SWEAR IT!" Katie yelled.
Pleased, Zero let go of her throat. Before taking the command console away from Katie, Zero with the five soldiers, aiming at the door as she input the command as now it opens. Aiming their weapons as the door unlocks itself. As the final lock clicked, opening the door, of course being a large vault door. With one of the soldiers slowly grabbing the door. The soldier turned back to Zero, who nodded at her. Zero returned the nod while turning to the three soldiers, "I'll need two to guard the door. While you…" turning to final guard, "...watch over the skank here." Jabbing her thumb at Katie who winces at the harsh words from Zero.
The soldier who opened the door followed Zero, both aiming their weapons at the area for threats. Despite the whole lower floor being empty and spacious. Nothing is truly safe. Especially this line of work Zero does. After the area was clear and secure, Zero and the soldier saw the upright container. Zero ordered the soldier to watch her back, the soldier nodded while aiming his Automatic rifle behind them. Zero taking the time to open the container, examining the content. Using the same password on the first try the door of the container. As she slowly opened the door, the Soldier watching their backs yet still glance at the container, the anticipation aired in the room as Zero opened it slowly. Before long a grin rested on her face of accomplishment. Before long she used a flashlight to illuminate the container to find…
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"...What?!"
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" Uh…Ma'am? Is it…is it there? Ma'am…?" The Soldier walked towards the open container to only find…
A corpse.
The Soldier gave a baffled posture at the finding. The corpse looked so rotten and full of dirt, grime and some clothing being eaten up by maggots or bugs. The only expression to say about this discovery was a simple…"What the fuck? That…that can't be it, right ma'am?"
Zero…with a look…a look that could rival the likes of the Hulk with such fury that instead of talking back to the Soldier, she storms off. The Soldier, with a tablet took a photo of the skeleton corpse before following her back. The air being tense and when it does with Agent Zero…well…
"You." Zero points out to Katie who flinched at being pointed, but screamed before she was grabbed by her hair, dragged to the room by Zero as she threw her with one-arm. Before she could answer, Zero kicked her on her stomach. Such force made Katie puke for a bit as again she grabbed her hair. Katie screams in pain as being held up with such force by Zero who kept a silent-furious glaze at her.
"S-STOP! PLEASE! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING YOU WANTED! W-WHAT MORE YOU-" Katie stops in mid sentence as she eyes on the corpse in the container. Seeing a corpse over the "Project" made her…pale. Deeply pale of what will happen next. "...b-but…but…it was here. IT WAS HERE! Wha-!"
Zero made Katie look at her, no emotions were displayed yet despite no emotions, all Katie could feel in the air was simply rage. The kind of one as a ticking bomb. "So…Katie…you said it was here. Right? Right? You…you have said it was here. Now…" Pointing at the corpse, "...there's only a rotten body there. No "Project" or parts. Just a corpse."
"I…I d-don't k-know…"
"Oh no. No. No. No. No, nononono, nono no…Nope. I don't want to hear that. I want an answer. Now tell me where it is. Please?"
"Please? Please, you say? After killing my people? Tortured me? Beat my man up to hell? Killing him on the spot? And now "please?" Well…" Then Katie spit at Zero's face, "FUCK YOU, YOU WORTHLESS FUCKING COLOMBIAN BIMBO BITCH! FUCK YOU! That fucking "Project" was here! HERE! We just checked it! From the last six fucking hours ago! Now…it's gone. GONE! And I don't FUCKING know where it is! I DON'T! And the people you just killed maybe…maybe had answers. And now…they're dead. All of them! Happy now you stupid fucking illegal-alien bitch! You're whole fucking worth is nothing more than your huge-fake tits and ass with nothing but sex and drugs on your fucking mind for only weak men that likes a worthless whore like you to pity and cheat their wives on. Fucking Colombian scumbag FUCK!" Katie spat at Zero…
The five Soldiers, despite their helmet gear, were taken aback, on how brave Katie spoke. Even giving an audible, "Damn!", to some gasp. Zero wipes off her face. Then simply stared at Katie, who stared back with the same fiery look as Zero. The craziest part was Zero's eyes began to water up, making Katie give an evil smirk that was cut short as Zero simply twisted both wrists of Katie in a quick movement, and then Katie screamed. Zero twisted both her wrists so hard, the bones snapped. Katie was on the ground weeping before Zero grabbed her head, dragging towards the container, placing Katie's head on the ground of where the container's head was. Before she was about to do it, Zero turned to her Soldiers. "You fine gentlemen can head back up. Give the report that the "Project" isn't here but a corpse that you…" She pointed at one, "...took a photo, right?" The Soldier nodded. "Good. Now me and Miss Katie are going to have a chat. Please…excuse us." She smiles at them, the five soldiers nodded before leaving. Even one shut the door. As all five left, Zero slowly turned her head back on Katie who, with tears, kept the same enraged look they both shared.
"You know…that wasn't nice. I thought us women had to be-"
"FUCK YOU! Die of an overdose for all I care! Bitches like you ruin everything! EVERYTHING! Coming here…acting all hot shit. Heheheheheehhahahahehe…I bet you're Mommy and Daddy left you for someone else to deal with their problem. Typical deadbeat parents of foreigners. Knowing they won't be able to take care of you and will become nothing but a worthless-pitiful-fucking-failure of a woman! Orphaned. No home. No family. Or a purpose. Now…ehehehe…wasn't you a model-nude-star before? Yeah…I know you, "sister." Making only just pennies while men fucked you for free. With nothing to show your worth? Because you are nothing! Nothing! NOTHING! Hehehehe…go ahead, bitch…Do it."
"You know what…Gladly." She slams the door on Katie's head. The hit made a dent on Katie's head. Blood spilling out. Despite that…Katie only just smiles at Zero. With no remorse. No begging. No pleas. Showing the same kind of sinister-look-smug look Zero showed her. Zero…with tears pouring out of her eyes. Ruining her makeup, as she simply slammed the door again. Then again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Before then long she started to yell. Scream. Roar. Shriek. Every word to describe her screaming her vocals out as she keeps slamming the metal door over and over now at the headless Katie. All you can still hear was the banging of such force hitting flesh over and over. Shouting. Mixture of anger, sadness, a few pleas. Over and over the loudness of the metal colliding echoed. More of Zero's screaming with fury.
Ripping the door in half of rage then throwing at a wall. Making a dent in the hole, then started to stomp now the lifeless corpse of Katie. Over and over. Over and over. And over and over. Repeating "Fuck you! Fuck you!" swearing in English to Spanish while stomping the dead Katie. If she wasn't dead still kept laughing as Zero simply just lashes it out on her lifeless corpse. The only person to stand up to get under her skin. A simple civilian ticked off the ruthless agent like Zero, who simply lost her calm-dominant demeanor to a having child-like tantrum.
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In New York: - LOCATION UNKNOWN -
Time: - TIME UNKNOWN -
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"...ugh…Ehhhh…aghk…wha-? What? What's…what's going on?! W-Where am I?!"
"Hey! Hey, Sullivan! Thank God… It's me, Quinn! Don't worry man I got you."
"W-What? Q-Quinn? Where…where am I? Are we…in a car?!"
"Yeah. Yeah, yeah I know it's weird as hell. I know. But listen, when I was going to visit you, after hearing what happened to you, I came to visit your room. But someone…someone tried to shoot you in the hospital. On your bed." Quinn explained.
"H-How…how the fuck…why?! God…my back. Just…how did you get me out of there?"
"You were still on like something. You were asleep for most of it. Don't worry, I shot him before he tried to shoot you. I know…I know I used excessive force, but your life was on the line. I took the shot. Don't worry…I reported it to the NYPD Officers."
"I…I…Oh…okay. I…I see. T-Thank you Blake. But…I can't see." Sullivan then reaches to his eyes. In which he felt something was obscuring his view.
"Oh, I put blindfolds on. I…I don't know if your eyes will get hurt by the sun or daylight. Which is 8 in the morning. Don't worry. I'm getting you somewhere else. Another safe hospital by a police station or better." Quinn reassured. Sullivan still felt…uneasy. Despite trying to take off the blindfolds…it felt tight. Tighter than it needs to be, making it uncomfortable.
"D-Dammit, Blake. I need to see. I'm sure my eyes are fine now. Can I see?"
"Look. I know you're scared. Confused to hell. I get it. But for once Garry…listen to me. Keep them on. I'll be sure to have the medical staff remove it for you. We should be right about…this is the turn I make."
Sullivan fully remained quiet for the moment. Feeling as the car slows down to then fully stop. Blake turned the gear Sullivan could hear. Door unlocked. A door shut. Then feeling his side door being open. Hands grabbing his arms as they helped him out of the car. While feeling weak, he still stood on his own. Feeling his blindfolds being taken, the sunlight did temporarily blind Sullivan a bit. Sullivan expected to be in front of the hospital. Full of people. Staff taking him in. NYPD Police waiting. Even Quinn standing by his side…Now all that Sullivan sees is…a forest. Trees. Grass. A click sound appeared out of nowhere.
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Sullivan turns to see Quinn…aiming Sullivan's Glock 18 pistol at him, with gloves on. Making sure no prints were shown on his hands. Sullivan stood there with eyes widened while Quinn gave an irritated gaze. "You big-nose-nosey son-of-a-bitch! I told you over and over about that case, Sullivan. Should've written it off as "robbery-gone-wrong" than snooping around. The hell you thought it was going to happen?"
Sullivan held up his hand, with a pleading yet stoic look, "Look…Blake…whoever or whatever is doing this…who almost got me last night is dangerous. There was something else about Kayn Wyatt's death! You k-know it! And I know it! Someone…someone is getting in the way! They're making you do this! They're-!"
"Nuh uh. Nope! No one is actually forcing him. This is all he's doing. For the greater good." Sullivan turns to Desmond. Who simply smirks with four men in suits watches the scene fold. Betrayal. Desmond walks over to Sullivan. Sullivan only stares at the emptiness eyes of Desmond's who kept a "smile" to then pat his shoulders. "I must say…for an old-rusty Veteran. You still got spunk. Hella a lot more than any other NYPD pig. No matter how much your "partner" told you. The Chief. The countless others telling you to leave it. You are a hard headed stubborn bastard, yet, with a determination. But…it was all pointless." Sullivan keeps being quiet, while again Desmond begins to pace around him while Quinn and the other men watch. "And for being a NYPD detective born-skeptic who takes no for answer…I think you earned your say. So…" Desmond placed both his hands in front of himself. "Ask away! Please."
Sullivan eyes on Desmond. Immediately knowing who he is. Not by name, but by how he moves and behaves, "smiles". Acting happy. Sullivan knows he's dealing with a psychopath. A dangerous one. The kind he saw overseas in his unit before being deserted. Then back at Quinn who still aimed his personal pistol at him, then the thugs who looked armed themselves. No matter how much pain he could endure, thinking of rushing towards Quinn. Take their guns and fight back. Yet…Yet…right here… as Sullivan laid his eyes down on the ground. He won't bullshit himself. He wasn't going to make it out. Just by the air and Desmond's presence. Told him there, without even saying it. "There's no getting out of here. Far away. No one to hear. No "Superhero" to save you." All by his expression Sullivan took a glance. He's playing with Sullivan.
Playing the game…Sullivan turned his eyes back on Desmond, who kept the grin on his face. "Fine…Did you kill Kayn Wyatt? Even Victor Lee? Or send one of your men or my partner to kill them both?" Sullivan asked.
Desmond was taken aback at the question. Being "Offended" of how Sullivan simply asked. Desmond chuckles a bit before eyeing his men to Quinn, who still aimed at Sullivan. Desmond came closer to Sullivan, who remained standing. Not being intimidated nor impressed by the towering size of Desmond. He responded, "If you want the answer. All of you…" All, even Quinn himself, nodded. Desmond smirk, "Alrighty then…No. I didn't kill them. Mostly not killing Kayn Wyatt in such a gruesome manner. Not my style."
"Bull-fucking-shit. You have the resources. The men. The eyes. Everything you needed. It would only make sense for you to pull that shit. Getting some of your lackeys on my ass last night!" Sullivan counted. Desmond held up his hand then pointed at him.
"You are right. I do have the resources. The money. The bodies. Everything I needed to off one of them. However…like it or not, Detective. I never killed Wyatt nor ordered a hit on both. If anything, specifically on Wyatt…he was actually an asset to me. Well…admittedly, a now worthless asset. Yet, he was useful before his sudden demise. When something needed to be done. He was the one to get it done with perfect results. Unless, if he was paid. Mostly pain with the side of blonde broads in Broadway. Oooh boy. He loved blondes. The kind blondie with the most exquisite body in the crowd."
Sullivan scoffs in disgust, yet, hearing the truth his heart doesn't want to believe, yet his mind forces him to accept it. "You fucking scum…You've been extorting women off the streets for that pervert. Who now…was also a hitman. You're personal hitman? That's why his wife refused to talk about his private affairs. A hitman for you, a business man for himself."
"Ding-Ding-Ding-Ding! He got it right, gentlemen! Bravo! Sure, I know. It's a cliche, boring idea for someone like him to pull off stunts like that and yet…it happens. And he was certainly good. Extraordinary even. Yet…he was a weak man. Sorry to say, but it's the truth. Women or the blonde ones, were his way to get him rolling on his feet. Making him spring into action if a beautiful blonde stands by his side in the bed. Shame he's dead now. But…I can always find a replacement. Anyday. Anytime. Any pay. By any means."
Sullivan could do nothing but shook his head at all of this revelation. "So…that's why you want no one to investigate this, huh?"
"Of course. Gotta keep the peace, am I right?"
"Don't confuse silence for peace."
Desmond grabbed his throat, "Isn't what you did back overseas for our Government in the 2000s?" Sullivan went silent. "There you go, you hypocrite. Don't even get smart with me, pig. This was your fault. Your mess. Someone should've tried harder to get you off this "case". Yet now…I'm forced to do something out in the open." Desmond begins to walk away after letting go of Sullivan's throat. "So…Detective Garry "R" Sullivan…I suggest you now make peace with yourself. If you either believe in "God" or nothing at all. I better hear or speak for yourself…"
"Wait."
Desmond turned his head back to Sullivan. Sullivan still stood in his place, "Do…Do you know her?"
"Know her? And what pray tell do you mean her?" Desmond asked, and was genuinely confused, yet Sullivan wasn't paying it.
"Don't toy with me you, punk. I saw a wedding ring. Pictures of a blonde woman. Did you know her? Did you?! Toy around their feelings? Extort her? Brainwashing him to attack his own wife?! Gaslighting that woman to hell and back? Wha-!"
Desmond grabbed Sullivan's neck so quickly with only one arm, he didn't react to it, as Desmond held him up with great strength. Gripping his neck tighter than ever, making Sullivan struggle to breathe. Desmond, not putting his mask back on as now he displayed the blank-cold-stares, even shadows covering his face, only to see his eyes with no soul. Then he brings Sullivan down to his eye level, still grabbing his neck, "Listen here. I don't know what woman or whore you speak of. If anything…Wyatt had a way of…getting rid of women who either insulted him. Rejected him. Even forced himself on plenty of them. But…he's dead. Gone. Heaven or hell. It doesn't matter. He's gone. And so are you." Desmond simply drops Sullivan on the ground like trash
Desmond dust himself off, if dirt touched him. As he began to walk away while Sullivan tried to get up. Only then for him to get shot on his leg. Shouting in pain while seeing Quinn holding his personal pistol. Quinn kicked him on his face then laid a foot on his stomach. Quinn, much like Desmond, threw a blank-stare at him. As Sullivan opened his mouth…
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*BLAM!*
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Quinn shot where exactly Sullivan opened his mouth. Perfect clean-shot. For a suicide scene. Quinn turned to Desmond who returned with a smile, then patted Quinn's shoulders. "Nice work! A perfect, well clean shot. See? Nothing else to be done."
Quinn sighs for a bit while shaking his head, "Yeah. Yeah. Good. Now…is it set?"
"Of course. Of course, Detective. All is paid for. Father bills paid. Money in your account. All done." Desmond said, while taking away the pistol from Quinn's hand, who smirks a bit while taking the gloves off. "I am a man of my word. So long you do something for me. I will do something for you. Fair?"
"well…Yeah…Fair to me. Will miss him. But…he did this to himself. As long I'm-"
*BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!*
Quinn didn't get to finish his request while getting gunned down by Desmond. Falling down lifeless on the ground, near towards Sullivan's body. Desmond simply walks away towards his men, even the Coroner being present with equipment and tools, while Desmond hands one of them Sullivan's pistol.
He gives them an order, "Make it look like a both hate-corrputed-murder-to-suicide crime scene. Have the "manifesto" prep in his pocket or maybe in the glove compartment inside of Quinn's car. A confession of having hateful feelings and beliefs for Sullivan. Add tattoos of any hateful-group for Sullivan. Nazi's. Neo-Nazi's. The Klansman. Anything to make it look hateful as possible for the public or a "witness" to see. Hand it all over to the 56th Precinct. Make a story. Even make it an execution. Something for the media to eat up on. Add fuels to this rhetoric of anti-police or "Police Brutality" nonsense and for fuck's sake for those in Manhattan…Burn Wyatt's house down to nothing more but ashes. Now…get to work gentlemen."
The four nodded. Two got work on the bodies, displaying a "fight" to placing fingerprints of Sullivan hand on his personal side arm, then one took the thumb from Sullivan's hand onto Quinn's eye, displaying the both fought and made Sullivan look like a dirty fighter. One wrote anything hateful as possible by mimicking Sullivan's handwriting in this "manifesto", the Coroner placing all of the hospital gown, tags, bandages, writing a false report on the body. Adding a few substances inside his body, mostly crack. To add the level of Sullivan being a dirty-hateful-cop and who he hated his partner by his skin color.
As they work Desmord begins to drive away, before long another set of vans appear where he was. One lowered the window, "Sir? Is that you?"
Desmond lowered his windows as well, showing his face to them, "Yes. What's the situation?"
"Well…sir…Ummm…Kells. The one who's supposed to be montering Spider-Man in Midtown right?"
"Yes. I'm aware of that. What's the issue?"
"He's…been found dead, sir. Along with the whole team…Well…one is alive, being William Tanner. Report from him said someone, not your Watchmen, but someone else took them out in their patrol over in the streets. We placed another set of watchers in Manhattan and Midtown."
"And…for the tapes? CDs? The equipment used to watch over the bug?"
The man winces a bit before turning back at Desmond…"Well…*ahem*...sir. They're gone. All of them are gone."
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TO BE CONTINUED!
IN: One Sensational SPIDER-MAN!
