Read through the latest Spider-Gwen, and it just show more of Earth-65's craziness - Wolverine's a Japanese samurai 'cursed' with an extra year of immortality for every person he kills (they really gotta redefine what curse means...); X-23's counterpart in Earth-65 is Shadowcat/Kitty Pryde rather than Laura Kinney; Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson still seem to work together, at least in a 'better the devil you know' capacity; and SHIELD apparently employs both Wolverines as bounty hunters.
One thing I do love is that they actually acknowledge that elephant in the room: When Gwen proposes going to SHIELD for help cause 'they're the good guys', Harry actually tells her that SHIELD is also after him because he, and I quote, 'betrayed his country and tried to kill Gwen'. That and they refuse to let him run amok with the serum in his system. Bizzarely this leads Gwen to think that SHIELD might be wrong solely on the basis that they hire people like Wolverine and Shadowcat, which makes her look painfully naive.
Another character note is that Murdock again re-affirms what the fear toxin Peter insinuated; despite her words, Gwen craves being Spider-Woman and will do anything to get her powers back. Why she'd want them back considering how miserable they make her is unknown, but it should prove interesting to explore here since it implies she's either so guilty that she keeps wanting to be punished or she actually just likes the idea of being powerful and special, which fits the theme with people in Earth-65 like Vulture and Peter Parker/Lizard. What do you guys think is the reason she wants it so badly?
On a side-note, I watched the Red Hood trailer and it's definitely giving me ideas. Given that Peter gets his teeth kicked in during melee a lot, it might be better if I made him focus much more on weapons and gadgets: Pistols, tazers, knives, throwing knives and bombs. Would at least differentiate him from Gwen and would help with writing fight scenes since I find shootouts easier to write compared to fisticuffs - Red Hood trailer
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Chapter 53: Introduction to Madness
The first time she had a guy over at her place in about a decade and he was bleeding all over her carpet...about what she expected, really.
Cindy sighed and adjusted the surgical mask strapped over her mouth, trying to ignore the smell of blood wafting up her nostrils. Not too long ago the worst thing she faced was the crippling thought of dying alone in the bunker, and after that it was her evil twin's mad science lab. Honestly, it was weird to her how numbed to it she'd become. Nowadays she almost forgot that she was in another dimension and that her family was lost to her probably forever.
...
Then again, what else was new?
"I should start charging for all these rescues..." She narrowed her eyes and stabbed the needle through the reddened skin. Thankfully Peter didn't so much as twitch in response, letting her work in relative peace with her new amateur sewing dummy, "You're lucky I had these with me..." She licked her lower lip and cut the line of thread. Just half a dozen more to go...
She let out another sigh and stood, taking off her gloves and tossing them into the nearby bin. She wasn't exactly a doctor in the making - much to her mother's eternal disappointment - but she'd learned to patch herself up. Hockey wasn't what someone would call a soft touch sport and while she was lucky enough not to lose any of her teeth, she'd come home with bruises and sore limbs more often than she'd liked.
Cindy stretched her arms above her head and looked outside the window. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, but already she felt completely wired. Then again there wasn't much she could do about that; between the bunker, the mad science lab and the S.H.I.E.L.D training facility, time had kinda lost meaning for her besides as a number on the clock. She didn't want to tell Pete, but she did kinda want to break down crying - just a
little bit - when she finally saw the sun again yesterday.
Hey, so sue her; she had emotions.
She looked back at Peter worriedly. She'd managed to stitch up his wounds and he was sleeping soundly...well, as soundly as someone who looked like they got the shit kicked out of them could be,
'Pete really needs to be more careful.' She made her way to her room and rummaged through her luggage. Technically she hadn't finished unpacking everything S.H.I.E.L.D gave her, and with Peter on her couch she couldn't exactly take her well-deserved ice cream break, so...
Oh well, at least the view was nice...well, what little of it that wasn't covered in bloody bandages and stitches.
The hours passed by quicker than she thought they would have. Peter slept like a rock, and by the time noon hit it almost felt like she'd made a dent into unloading all the crap her new bosses gave her...though she wondered whose bright idea it was to give her an entire box of tazers, tranquilizers and pepper spray. Did someone not get the memo about her having superpowers or something?
She was into her 5th box (no, she wasn't going to ask why they thought fireworks were a good idea either) when Peter finally woke up, "Mmmh...where am I?" His eyes parted open slowly, groping at the air blindly with his uninjured hand before he finally managed to grasp the edge of the couch and pull himself up, "I...Cindy?" He grimaced and let out a pained breath, "Is that you?"
"Yep. Your knight in shining spider silk to the rescue...again." She stood up and wiped her hands on her sweatpants, making her way to the couch before Peter could try to do a handstand, "Look, just relax, would you? Not mincing words, you looked pretty fucked up when you got here last night...and trust me, I've seen fucked up." She clicked her tongue and sat on the chair next to him, "Your wounds-"
"Will heal..." He held onto his side and grit his teeth, his breaths soft, "You patched me up, I should be fine for now..." He swung his legs over the edge, "Pain'll pass...just need some painkillers and I'll be good to go."
"Right..." She leaned forward and poked the (weirdly almost faded) bruise on his chest, getting a pained hiss in response, "You look 'good to go' straight to the emergency room." She rolled her eyes at the annoyed glare he gave her, "Come on, Pete; no need for the tough guy act. Need I remind you that I saved your ass, what does that make it, 3 times now? That lone wolf BS was old even before I got trapped in the bunker."
"So you say..." He let out an exhausted breath and brought his hand over his face, "...What time is it?"
"20 minutes past 12." Cindy gestured to the clock lazily, "Honestly, I was expecting you to burst into flames when the sun came up...or is it sparkle? I dunno, I guess some things stay the same no matter what. I mean when I checked online there was this show called the Fantastic 4, and even back in my place those guys were already famous before I got put in the sinkhole. Hell, where are the X-Men? Maybe I could pull of the Mutant thing."
"Dunno what you're talking about..." Peter shook his head and stood up shakily, Cindy reaching a hand out to steady him, "I'm fine, Cin...just kinda dizzy. It'll pass." He shook his head again and let out a breath through his mouth, "I heal fast...only reason I'm not a 100 percent right now is cause...well, let's just say I got into a fight again."
"I'll say. You looked like you lost a fight with a lawnmower." She guided him to the dining room table and set him down on one of the chairs, "Now, relax, would you? Gwen and Harry haven't called yet, but I bet the second they get a clue they'll tell us right away. Till then why not try taking it easy? The city's not gonna blow up just cause Spider-Man decides to take some R and R."
"Somehow I doubt that. This madhouse seems like it's determined to kill itself...feels like death by a thousand papercuts..." He traced a hand through the bandaged arm and frowned, "...Sorry for just barging in like I did. Didn't know who else to turn to."
"Well, there's Gwen, but it's good to know you think that way." She gave him a cheeky smile and clapped his uninjured soldier, "Well, I'll get lunch started. Dunno about you, but I'm starving."
"...You can cook?"
She was torn between being annoyed and snorting in agreement at the doubtful look her gave her, "Yep. I can fry a mean can of Spam...though in this place they call it Cram for some reason. Weird." She shook her head, "If you're expecting 5 star cooking, then no, sorry. Being in a bunker means that you stick with all the canned stuff that they tell you will kill you if you eat too much of it." She laughed and flexed her arms, "I missed the worst of it. Guess these powers are good for something, at least."
Lunch was...nice, if she had to use a word to describe it. Back in the bunker she was always alone except for a few CD's she managed to take with her, and that got boring after a year of constant re-runs. Back in S.I.L.K she was fed slop through her cell and even in the S.H.I.E.L.D facility there was always a certain distance between her and the other agents in training. No one wanted to hang out with the girl who could shoot web out of her fingers, after all.
Peter wasn't much of a conversationalist like Gwen was, but his presence was comforting all the same. He was a good listener, to use the cliche. It was nice to talk to someone who was just as weirded out about this dimension as she was. Granted he had a good 70 years of difference on her, but she'd take what she could get...though she wondered why he kept calling the place a 'Madhouse'. She didn't think he was the nickname type.
"So you wanna explain why you came in here looking like something out of Manhunt?" she asked, washing the dishes almost absentmindedly. The first thing she'd get when she started getting paid was definitely one of those fancy automatic dishwashers, "I mean last I checked we were supposed to go do our raids then come back with our info. Was a mauling scheduled and I just missed it?"
"You could say that..." Peter stood up from the table and made his way to the nearby bathroom, leaving the door open so they could keep talking, "Got in over my head, I guess. Guess there are still things in this asylum that I haven't gotten used to." He opened the cabinet above the sink and picked up a bottle of painkillers, "...Hey, I gotta ask you something: You worked with Osborn last night. Did anything seem...off to you?"
"Uh...define 'off'." She looked back and found him swallowing a handful of pills. If it was anyone else she would've wondered if they had a deathwish, "He was...I dunno how to describe it; paranoid, maybe? He was looking over his shoulder the entire time we were together. Kinda felt like he was expecting me to shoot him or something the second his back was turned."
"Probably not far from the truth..." He pocketed the painkillers before picking up another bottle from the shelves, "...Hair dye? You planning to go undercover, Moon?" he asked, giving her a wary look.
"Kinda." She shook her head and laughed, "My evil twin's the head of a terrorist organization, remember? Even if it's not public knowledge, running around with the same exact look might not be such a good idea, you know? Bobby figured I needed to change my face up a bit; dye my hair...maybe get a little plastic surgery, the works." She shrugged, "Sooner the better, he said. I dunno, you think I could pull off the redhead look?"
"I've seen worse. Maybe you could change your name to Mary Jane Watson, try to blend in better." He returned the previous dye and picked up a bottle of blonde coloring, "...Hey, you mind if I use this?"
"Thinking of pulling off a new look, too?" she asked back with a light smirk.
"Parker's face has been getting me into trouble ever since I got here. Might be a good start, at least." He turned the container around and stared at the instruction, "...Says here it'll take only 5 minutes. Guess this madhouse is good for something, at least." He set it down on the sink and looked back at her with a sigh, "So...you mind if-"
"Knock yourself out, Pete." She waved a hand through the air lazily and plopped down on the couch, Peter closing the bathroom door without another word. The entire apartment as quiet, and even though the remote was at arm's reach she didn't feel like turning on the TV to add some noise into the place. If there was one thing she missed about the bunker, it was the quiet. Here everything was loud; blaring horns, people running down the hallway or even a freaking parade marching down the street. 10 years of isolation meant loud noises were definitely up there on her 'do not want' list.
Which made the scratching at her door almost deafening when she heard it, "What the...?" She stood up and made her way to the door carefully. Her spinnerette-sense was quiet, which was pretty rare all things considered. She distinctly recalled having it tingle a few hours ago only to find a college girl bawling her eyes out after she'd been ditched by her friends. Mean to be sure, but hardly 'danger to your life' material.
She'd barely opened the door before a tiny pug zipped past her legs and ran to the bathroom door, "Hey, what the-" Her words were cut off when Peter opened the door, looking down at the puppy for only a second before he gave a light smile and petted its head, "Uh..." She looked at the scene in confusion before speaking up again, "Pete...you wanna introduce me to your friend here?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry." He stood up and brought a hand through his now-blond hair. She had to say, it fit him better than she thought it would have, "This is my dog...Dog." He could only shrug at the exasperated look she gave him, "I'm not good with names...anyway, don't mind him. He's trained, and he doesn't do his business in the carpet like some other animals I've seen."
"Yeah...um, I was more wondering how he found you. Did you post something on myspace and he decided to follow up?"
"I'm...not really sure." He sat back down on the couch and picked up one of the guns lying on the table, "He's been following me around ever since I got him...honestly, I stopped trying to make logic out of this place months ago. Maybe he's a freak like I am." He petted its head again before he focused back on the side-arm, "...My wounds aren't fully healed yet, but we don't have time to waste. I called Summers before I passed out and she narrowed down an address."
"You sure that's a good idea?" She asked, gesturing to the still-healing wounds on his upper body, "I already saved your ass 3 times, Pete. Really not looking forward to make it an even 4."
"A good idea? Probably not, but it's not like I've had one of those ever since I got here." He ejected the magazine and replaced it with another carrying rubber bullets, "This'll be a stretch, but with the 2 of us we should be able to pull it off."
"2 of us? Aren't you forgetting a couple?" she asked, "Gwen and Harry are gonna want in on this." Especially the former. She didn't know what the deal between the two was, but it was clear Gwen was extremely protective; kind of odd considering how Peter usually was, but considering he was apparently her best friend a few years ago she supposed she shouldn't have been too surprised.
"...That's not gonna work. I'll...tell you when we're going over there." He mussed up his hair and groaned softly, "...Look, I need your help. If you don't want to then it's fine, I'll make do on my own."
"Quit the guilt trip, Pete." She rolled her eyes and smiled, "Look, I'll help you out, but you might wanna do something about...well, all of that." She gestured to his upper body, "I mean, not that I'm not enjoying the gun show here, but you really need a change of clothes." She crossed her arms, "Look, I can patch up that costume for you-"
"It's fine..." He picked up the dark shirt and jacket, grimacing slightly at the torn up right sleeves, "Lana's gonna kill me if I try to modify this thing after she spent so much time sewing it back on. I can deal..." He put the shirt on quickly and bit back a hiss, "...I do need help with a new mask, though. The old one got torn up..." He picked up the barely-there mask and tossed it into the bin, "...Again."
"Yeesh, how'd you ever manage to keep a mask before I got here?" She gave an exaggerated sigh and nodded, "Alright, let's wait till nighttime, then we can crash the Ogre's castle...just, one thing." She stared at the cheery pug warily, "What are we gonna do about your dog? You know any sitters?"
"He doesn't need one. Considering he went all the way from Hell's Kitchen to here, I'm pretty sure he can take care of himself." He picked up the pug and placed it on the couch, the puppy immediately curling in on himself and taking a nap on the soft cushions, "Come on, we have some time to kill...I should probably tell you what happened with Osborn."
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Ogre's 'castle' was so obvious that Peter had to wonder how he never saw it before.
After the nightclubs and warehouses he thought that whoever the Negro - wait, that was offensive now... - was he might have had a touch more subtlety compared to the average crime bosses. The idea was that they were supposed to keep themselves hidden, hide in plain sight as it were. In practice not so much; anyone who was greedy enough to trample people just for a bit more long green was more often than not too egotistical to keep their blood money hidden. Fancy suits, fast cars and even faster dames...women. They wanted to show just how better off they were because of the innocent blood on their hands.
Ogre wasn't any different. Even from the high rooftop across the street Peter was getting a headache from the opulent mansion that stood out like a sore thumb compared to the other buildings and houses in the place. Calling it a 'castle' felt more accurate than it should have been - It was missing a carriage and knights wearing armor, but the mansion dwarfed everything else in the area in sheer width and impracticality alone. That and it was lit up brighter than a star on Christmas eve.
"Yeesh, someone's overcompensating," Cindy said next to him, her expression hard to make out underneath the gray scarf she wore, "I don't see any guards. How do you wanna play this, Pete? Full assault or you gonna turn invisible and do the ninja thing again?"
"Hard to say..." He narrowed his eyes and focused. No guards at the front, and he couldn't see much in the way of alarms. Either Ogre was overconfident or he was smarter than he looked and had a card up his sleeve, "I don't know anything about this guy, Cin. We didn't exactly have much time for chit-chat before he tried to gas me and Connors. For all I know he could be hiding a nuclear device under that house of his."
"A nuke? Come on, he can't be
that rich."
"Who knows." He scoffed, "All I'm saying is that-"
*Thwip*
...Oh,
damn it.
Without even trying to suppress his annoyed sigh, he looked back and scowled when he saw Gwen and Osborn land on the roof, the former holding a thin line of black webbing in her free hand. He should've expected it - a part of him almost did - but for once he hoped that luck would stop taking it's daily dump on him and maybe let him go through the night without wanting to bash his head against the wall...well, more than he already did, anyway.
He was tempted to disappear into smoke and jump off the roof then and there, but something held him back. Ever since that night at the Frankenstein's lab, he'd been...different. Not enough that he was unrecognizable, but the second bite wasn't just a scratch. While his new 'gifts' came at a cost, they were still there...and right now they made Gwen seem almost alien from how she usually was.
Body language was something he paid attention to even before he got his powers, but afterwards it was almost trivial. It was easy enough to gauge someone's intentions when his spider-sense decided to warn him - Blaring if someone wanted to put a bullet between his eyes, nothing if they didn't. Gwen was different; ever since they'd met his sixth sense never worked on her, so he lost his crutch.
Not that reading her was difficult. In the short time he'd known her the other Spider was remarkably open about her feelings, secret identity aside. Despite the full body costume she wore her heart on her sleeve and it was clear as day whenever she changed her mood.
Which made the show she was trying to put on even weirder.
Gwen separated from Osborn without a word, her movements stiff. Normally her movements were unrestrained - something that became more obvious ever since that night in the butcher shop - but right now it looked like she was trying to play the silent joe. Every step, every move of the hands down to the smallest twitch were measured; trying to show no cracks on the surface.
Of course, the same couldn't be said about the...thing latched onto her. He doubted Osborn and Cindy noticed, but the damn thing was practically shivering and convulsing the closer its host got to him. Whether the blonde was aware of it or not he had no clue, but she seemed determined to act like nothing was wrong.
"Peter." Her voice was soft, barely heard over the space between them. He would've found it somewhat pitiable if his face still didn't feel like it was burning.
"...What do you want, Stacy?" Cindy gave him a wary look and didn't say a word. She knew what happened now, knew why Osborn looked at her like he was expecting a stab in the back, but she didn't exactly have a personal horse in this race.
"We're here to stop this Ogre bastard," Gwen replied, voice rising to become more even, "...We pooled the clues we got, and it looks like we were right. The mansion's his evil lair, so..." She took deep, slow breath and stepped closer to him, "Peter...I know you're angry, and I don't blame you, but this...this is too important for us to just start fighting one another, alright? And your wounds...you
need our help."
"If you say so." Peter scoffed. Funny how she was trying to play diplomat now that the other shoe finally dropped, "You wanna be a superhero, fine by me. Me and Cin'll find our own way around; just stay out of our way and it'll be fine."
Now would've been a good time to finally leave, but then Osborn had to open his damn mouth, "Peter, wait!" He rushed forward and grabbed his shoulder, keeping him in place, "I...I know you hate me, but this..." He shook his head and sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, "Look...we need to work together and make sure this poison doesn't spread again. I want the same thing as you do, trust me."
Trust him? Images of what happened to Connors sprang back in his mind. He remembered claws cutting through his face, the blood of Martha Connors and his own mixing together; he remembered razor sharp teeth chewing through his arm, ripping through muscle and tendon like they were tissue paper; and then there was Connors' son who looked at his dad like he was nothing more than a monster.
All Osborn's fault...and now he was trying to play hero.
Peter's hands clenched tightly for a brief moment before he lashed out, the fist smashing against Osborn's jaw and making the fallen prince stumble back near Gwen, "You got a lot of nerve, Osborn..." He could hear the voice at the back of his skull trying to claw it's way out, but he managed to shut it down, "All of this is your fault! Because of you're a damn idiot Ogre is turning people into monsters!"
The mask on Gwen's eyes widened, but before she could do anything Osborn held up a hand and shook his head, "No, Gwen...he's right." He wiped his bloody lip and grimaced. The wound looked painful, but considering how good the bastard looked considering what happened between them last Peter was pretty damn sure that he was getting a kickback from the serum, "The serum died with him...I was the one who dug it up and gave it to S.I.L.K."
"Harry, it's-"
"
Don't say it's not his fault!" Peter snarled, rounding on Gwen now, "You didn't...Gwen, if you saw what happened with Connors then you wouldn't..." Wouldn't what? Wouldn't let him go? Wouldn't excuse his actions with barely more than a slap on the wrist? He wanted to believe that was true, but apparently she knew all along and thought he deserved his freedom.
"He's trying to make up for it!" Gwen practically shouted back, "Peter...Harry made a mistake, all of us have. This...I'm not saying he's innocent, but S.I.L.K has the serum and it's better that he's out here trying to fix this mess than rotting in some jail cell."
"That's rich coming from you." He sneered, though it was unseen from under his mask, "Tell me something, Stacy: If it wasn't Osborn who spread this poison around, if it was just another delusional nutjob, would he have gotten a second chance? Or does it being him somehow make it
okay? You've put people in prison for less; I've seen you do it. Why does
he get a second chance when no one else did?"
"I-"
"You know, I thought you actually put your money where your mouth is." Peter continued, ignoring the way the other Spider's fists shook, "2 months, Gwen...2 months you dragged me around like a dog on a leash. 'Don't do this, don't do that. It's
wrong, Peter'." He laughed bitterly, "I was frustrated with you, but at least you practiced what you preached. Well..." He threw a venomous glare at Osborn, "Apparently not."
"...I didn't treat you like a-"
"Dog?" he interrupted again, resisting the urge to let out another bitter laugh, "Really? I remember things differently, Stacy. I remember you setting the rules, remember you dragging me around and forcing me to act how
you wanted. Weeks I had to do what you wanted, and if you didn't like something you'd stomp your foot and I couldn't say no. After all, who could refuse the great and famous Spider-Woman? It was her way or the highway."
"That's..." She clenched her hands into tight fists and steadied her shoulders, "Peter...you were killing people, acting like a maniac. What else was I supposed to do?"
"Leave me alone, maybe? The only reason you ever cared was because I had a dead kid's face." He let out a soft, frustrated noise from the back of his throat, "Like I said, I could accept it because you seemed to honestly believe that tripe. So riddle me this, then - Why does Osborn get a second chance? Why isn't he paraded around on a leash with you hovering over his shoulder telling him right from wrong? Tell me that."
She couldn't. There was a second when it seemed like she was going to say something, but eventually she unclenched her hands and let out a soft sigh. Peter scowled and looked away from them both, looking over to the mansion again. Still brightly lit, still the last thing they needed to do before they could put an end to this. He just wanted this night to be over, pretend that the last 2 days hadn't occurred to begin with.
The silence eventually ended when Cindy let out a practiced cough, "Um...right." She coughed again and looked at them all in turn, "Look, Pete just gave me the basic gist, but I think I know what's going on. Gwen..." She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose, "Look...I know Harry's your best friend, but Pete has a point. If Harry really gave that serum to my evil twin then he needs to answer for it. S.H.I.E.L.D's gonna want him in custody, especially since he's infected..."
"I..." Gwen looked at Osborn, obviously pained even through her mask, "What are you asking me to do, Cindy? Just...watch them throw one of my friends inside a prison cell?"
"It's where he belongs..." Peter muttered.
"I wouldn't use the same words as Pete, but you get the idea." Cindy nodded, "Look, Gwen...you're working for Captain freaking America! I'm being trained as an agent! Like it or not, Harry's a wanted criminal and he's a risk with the serum in his blood. Do you have any idea what they'd do to either of us if they found out we were keeping him hidden? I know Cap likes you, but there's only so much crap you can pull before someone calls bullshit."
"I know you're right, but I can't go yet..." Osborn replied softly, "Look...this is my fault, and until I'm sure the last trace of this poison is gone I can do more good out here over staying in some jail cell. As soon as it's over I'll turn myself in. I promise."
He wasn't lying, but at this point Peter didn't care. For all he knew the bastard was just deluded enough to believe his own lies like Castle was, "How convenient." He turned back to them and crossed his arms, "I know what you mean by that, Osborn. I know your type; you'll keep finding excuses to try and 'atone' for what you've done so you don't have to face up to what you're due. First it's Ogre, then it'll be some other criminal or wrong you did that you'll use to justify why it's 'better' for you to be out here rather than in a hole where you belong."
"I know you don't trust me, Peter, but this isn't what I intended." Osborn grimaced, "Look, you mentioned that Connors turned after you rescued him. But that doesn't make any sense. He should've been fine for longer than that; he wouldn't have returned to his family if he was hours away from turning into one of the Lizards. Ogre must've tampered with the formula somehow, the same way he did it for the nightclub."
"That's right, try to find someone else to blame. What you did wasn't 'as' bad; you 'just' doomed 6 innocent people. Ogre being worse somehow excuses that, right?" He sneered at the terrorist, "What next, Osborn? You gonna tell me daddy didn't hug you enough and that being rich and getting whatever you wanted was so terrible that you 'had to' do what you did?"
"Peter, enough." Gwen crossed her own arms and raised her eyes to meet his, "We've all made mistakes...and your hands aren't clean either. Frank Castle ringing any bells? He's not exactly a saint, but you're still friends with him. He nearly killed my dad, Peter. He put Aunt May at risk."
"Friends...don't think anyone is that guy's friend." He scoffed. He doubted anyone did more than just tolerate Frank Castle; even Bullseye seemed to hate the guy's guts, and that was saying something, "If your argument is that we're both assholes, then that's not much of a shock. Besides, at least I never pretended to be a saint, 'Superhero'."
"Alright, enough!" Cindy got between them and raised both her hands, "We've all got issues here, but could we wait until that World of Warcraft reject is behind bars? That and I don't really think an open roof in the middle of the city's a good place for a private convo."
Yeah...he knew that from experience. Sighing, Peter gave a subtle nod before he jumped off the roof. The sooner they finished this the sooner they could put it all behind them.
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The inside of the house...wasn't what he expected.
It was a toss-up between running in through the front gates or trying to find some other route to sneak though...and considering he seemed to be the only one in the small 'group' that had any idea on how do anything besides kicking the door down and hoping for the best it wasn't much of an argument. Another reason he didn't like working with partners; one mistake and multiple people paid the price.
Still, the architecture wasn't anything to scoff at. A wide entrance hall, chandeliers on the roof and carpets and curtains that looked more expensive than the apartment he was currently 'living' in. It reminded him of those old-timey houses nobles would live in during the renaissance; impractical and needlessly complex. It looked like something an actual lord might have lived in rather than some drug kingpin.
...Well, it would've been if the entire place wasn't covered in fresh corpses.
Peter put his pistol back in its holster and walked towards one of the solitary corpses, the other three still standing agape near the center of the room. He'd expected they'd get swarmed by guards as soon as they kicked the door down, but luck had other plans, "Looks like someone was here first..." He knelt down next to the body and turned it around, "Sliced from ear to ear...someone's been watching too many movies."
He counted at least a dozen bodies in the entrance hall alone, and even more piled on top of the stairs. Not all of them had knife wounds; some were covered in 4th degree burns, and others were missing arms, legs or even their heads...and judging by the chunks of bloody meat he had a pretty good idea of what happened,
'Controlled explosives...this isn't a nail bomb. Definitely professional.'
The smell of blood in the air was overwhelming, especially for someone like him. Peter frowned and looked back at the rest of his 'teammates'. They were still slack-jawed, though he at least thought Osborn would've been used to it by now. It wouldn't have been the first time both of them were responsible for a pile of corpses.
"Holy shit..." Cindy said, blinking rapidly as if trying to make sure she wasn't seeing things, "This is..."
"All of them are dead." Gwen audibly swallowed, her 'suit' moving slightly in response, "Who the fuck did this...?" She knelt down by the corpse he was examining and looked at its cold, lifeless eyes, "...The bodies are still warm, that means-"
"Whoever did this is still here, most likely." Peter finished. Ignoring the blood clinging to his pants, he stood up and nudged his head to the direction of the stairs, "Come on...Ogre's probably dead by now, but whoever did this might have answers for us." Or at least he hoped so. This had all the markings of a hitman - Messy, gruesome and it'd send a message to anyone trying to look deeper.
The rest of the mansion wasn't any different: Corpses lined up in the stairs and hallways, all of them either burnt, cut or bludgeoned to death. The bright lights only added to the weird disconnect, "Can't tell if they're being careless or sadistic..." He'd seen death on a large scale before. Castle preferred the certainty of a bullet, and while he did his best to try and reign him in when prison was feasible, there were just as many times that it wasn't. Still, with the Punisher it was quick and precise; there was no point in drawn out sadism and brutality, even for someone who lived for the thrill of a firefight like Castle did.
Here it was different. Dead all the same, but the methods were crude. Intentional or not? He didn't know.
It didn't help that his spider-sense was beating like a damn drum, "Anyone else feel that...?" He looked at Gwen and Cindy and tapped the side of his head. His spider-sense was never the most precise despite it's reliability. It told him when someone wanted to harm him, but what they intended to do was for him to figure out. For all he knew the person in question could've pulled out a gun, a knife or a damn pie.
Right now it was pulsing in a constant rhythm and it was giving him a damn headache, "Yeah, I feel it too..." Cindy mumbled, looking around her warily, "It's...I think we're in danger, but it's not the same thing as a direct attack. Reminds me of the time I got an earthquake in the sinkhole. Just...danger in general, you know? It wasn't intentional by anyone, it's just nature."
"Well, I don't feel anything so if we're getting an earthquake then I'm hoping you two will warn us," Gwen said, her gaze lingering on the bodies. He didn't feel much sympathy for these clowns - the chances of them being in the dark about their bosses' depravities was pretty low given his experiences - but he wasn't completely heartless. Some of the ways they went looked gruesome, "How many people did this guy kill...?"
"Don't think about it..." That's what she did with Osborn, after all.
They spent a couple more minutes just wandering through the halls till they found a door that Peter assumed led to Ogre's room...the two bodies crucified on both sides of the door were kind of a big hint, "Well...guess that answers that question." Definitely a sadist. Peter pried the bloody knives from one of their wrists and watched the body crumple the ground, "I'm guessing Ogre's on the other side." He tapped the edge of the blade lightly. Still sharp...well, he lost his old knives during the fight with Connors. Now seemed a good time as any to get some replacements.
"Along with whatever psycho did all this." Gwen took a deep breath, her 'suit' quickly growing still. He could only hope that she kept that thing under a leash, whatever it was, "Something tells me that whoever did this isn't a new Superhero trying to make a name for himself."
"You'd be surprised. " He took out his gun and ejected the rubber bullets, inserting a fresh magazine into the chamber, "Whoever's in there is gonna be dangerous. I'm shooting to kill."
"Peter, you don't have to-"
"Shut up. I'm done listening to you."
The mask hid most of it, but the way she almost flinched and her words fading into a shocked mumble made it clear his answer stung. Even now he couldn't help the feeling of guilt that sprung up, but he did his best to ignore it. He wasn't going to apologize for refusing to be her toady, "...Come on." He raised the gun and pushed the door open before she could get another word in.
The interior completed the castle aesthetic of the previous rooms, even down to having a 'throne' opposite the doorway. It was also the same in the sense that the large room was covered in bodies, though instead of suits the corpses wore gimp suits, gyspy dresses and gas masks. He recognized them; Ogre's entourage during their little chat in Connors' lab. Now he definitely didn't feel much sympathy.
Still, all of that paled in comparison to the two figures on the 'throne'. He recognized Ogre, the large man's body covered in numerous cuts and burns and his arms strapped to the chair's sides. The one next to him was even more noteworthy; a tall and lanky figure covered in a black and green jumpsuit with a tattered cape that completed the ensemble. Another freak in this madhouse.
In the end it was nothing compared to the flaming pumpkin that covered the figure's head, a malevolent smile carved onto its 'face' like a jack-o-lantern on halloween.
"Huh, looks like you have guests, Oggy!" Pumpkinhead looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Peter before he turned back to his hostage, "You've been a bad boy, Oggy! That's Spider-Woman; S.H.I.E.L.D must be
very interested in what you're doing." He laughed, the sound distorted and robotic just like his voice, "Poor little Oggy. Always trying to reach too far." He played with the knife in his left hand and traced it across the larger man's arm, "Now you're paying the price."
"Y-You..bastard!" Ogre spat out a mouthful of blood and screamed when the knife finally reached his elbow, the blade digging into the skin with a disgusting squelch, "You and your boss are gonna pay for this!"
Gwen was the first to react, charging at the pair like she was possessed, "Let go of him!" She was nearly on them before she suddenly stopped, getting pushed back with a dull smack, "What the-"
"Bulletproof glass." Pumpkinhead laughed again, the distorted sound seeming more grotesque the longer Peter heard it, "Nearly transparent and almost indestructible. Cost Oggy a fortune, but I knew the codes. Didn't save him from me, but for you 4? It'll do just fine." He crossed his arms and leaned across the throne, "If you guys were hoping for a bloodbath then you're going to be disappointed. Shoulda come earlier, kiddies!"
"You're the one responsible for all this? All these dead people?" Gwen asked, her hands balled into tight fists.
"Well, I don't like to brag, but yeah." He clicked his tongue and shook his head, "Wasn't hard, just had to disable the valves that fed serum to this place." He stepped back and raised his hands in mock surrender when Gwen smacked the glass in frustration, "Hey, hey, hey! No need for violence! In fact, you should be
thanking me! Oggy was gonna turn everyone into Lizards the second you got here. You ask me, I did you a favor!
You're welcome!"
"You son of a-"
"Ah, ah, ah! Language! What'll everyone say when they hear New York's hero cursing like a thug? It'll be scandalous!" He picked up another knife and stabbed it into Ogre's hand, earning another curse-filled scream from the would-be kingpin, "Like I said, I did you all a favor! Trust me, Dark Spider over there knows me! We're phone buddies!"
"What are you..." The words were barely out of his mouth before the gears finally clicked. He remembered where that voice came from, "...'Jack', isn't it?"
"Flattered you remembered, Spidey!" 'Jack' stepped off the throne and walked closer to the transparent glass, "I'll admit, it's kinda embarrassing being caught like this. I don't even have my good mask on!" He tapped the side of the flaming pumpkin and sighed, "But now's a good a time as any, right? I do owe you for stopping my little pet project with the 'Sin Eater'. Catchy name, by the way. Wouldn't have thought of it myself."
"You're going to-"
"Why did you do this?" Osborn cut in, his expression a cross between a glare and a look of shock, "All these people...is it because of PGH?"
"Mmmh, half and half." 'Jack' shrugged, "My boss makes all the plans. Me? I don't really care, truth be told. He just tells me to kill Oggy over there and take the formula. The bossman doesn't like competition, you see, and Oggy has a bad habit of overstepping his limits." He gestured to the dead bodies lining the 'throne room', "Everyone else was just a bonus. If you don't have fun while you're working then what's the point, right?"
"Fun!?" Cindy screamed, "Those people are dead, you...whatever the hell you are! You're sick!"
"I'll take that as a compliment." 'Jack' shrugged again, "Now, I can see everyone here's agitated, and I have no interest in explaining to my boss why he has to bail me out of prison, so..." He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a thin tube with a button at the top. It didn't take long to figure out it was a detonator, "Gotta cut this short. See ya."
As soon as 'Jack' pushed the button Peter's spider-sense blared, the sound almost deafening if not for the loud explosions that followed. Peter just barely heard the others scream out out something unintelligible before he felt something crash into his back and pin him to the floor, his vision going dark not long afterwards.
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Peter didn't know how long he lay pinned under the rubble, but by his estimates it couldn't have been more than a few seconds judging by the screaming he heard, "Need to get out, need to get out!" Gwen's voice, but something was wrong. She sounded panicked, far more than when they were put into situations like this, "Leave, leave, leave! The fire will kill us!"
He heard a crash and just barely caught sight of Gwen's hooded figure smashing a hole through the wall and leaping through it with a frantic scream, "Guess I can't get her help..." He hissed and tried to pry himself out of the rubble with little success. The entire mansion was on fire, the choking smoke replacing the the metallic stench of blood in the air, "Damn it..." He grabbed the ground and pulled himself forward, ignoring the feeling of blood rushing down his back. If he could still feel pain then he was alive.
Letting out another cough, Peter finally managed to pry himself from the stones rise into a shaky stand. He couldn't see Cindy anywhere; he could only hope that she managed to get out of this place-
His spider-sense rung and he ducked, barely avoiding the knife that whizzed past where his head was, "Huh, nice reflexes!" He turned around and found Jack standing nearby seemingly without a care in the world, "You know, my boss told me to get back to him as soon as I got the job done, but..." He pulled out a pair of knives and spun them around in his hands, "What's work without fun, right?"
"Go to hell..." He tried to grab for his gun and scowled when he felt nothing but the empty space of his holster. He must have dropped it, "...If we stay here we're both going to die." If the fire didn't kill them then the smoke would, but he didn't feel any urge to run. He took out a knife and held the blade close to him. Better he ended it here than risk someone like him running loose out there.
"I'm ready for that. Let's dance!"
Jack charged first, laughing all the while. Peter dodged the strikes, his steps heavy. Despite his previous kills the bastard's moves were definitely trained. It reminded him of his sparring sessions with Moon Knight,
'He's fast...' He dodged the third hit and slashed the knife across the bastard's stomach, a thin sheet of blood pouring through the costume,
'Should've been deeper...costume blunted the hit.'
"Hah, nice one!" Jack charged again and brought both knives down, the blades scratching through his right shoulder and his wrecked body armor, "You're actually a bit of a challenge! Not like everyone else in this place!" He pressed the blades deeper into his arm before Peter smacked him away.
"Shut up." His wounds were slowing him down. Peter ejected a burst of webbing to cover 'Jack's' legs and grabbed his arm, jamming the knife into his elbow and using it to break the limb entirely.
'Jack' looked down at the limp arm for a second before he let out an ear-splitting laugh. Peter ignored it and moved to do the same to his other arm before his spider-sense blared again, "You got me!" He pushed him back and sliced through the webs with his remaining hand, ignoring the limb swinging loosely in its socket, "Your win, Spidey! Guess I shouldn't have underestimated you!"
"We're not done yet-"
He'd barely managed out the 4 words before what looked like a broomstick crashed through a window, its back billowing fire and smoke out of the weaponized exhaust, "Well, my ride's here!" 'Jack' hopped onto the mangled broomstick and gave him a mock salute, "We gotta do this again, Spidey! But next time it's gotta be all proper-like, you get me!? Trust me, you're gonna
love it!"
With those last words he let out another cackle and flew out, tossing a green sphere over his shoulder without a care. Peter didn't need his spider sense to tell him it was a grenade.
The explosion caused the floor to collapse beneath him. Peter fell for the briefest of moments before his head smacked against the 2nd floor, his head ringing from the sound and impact,
'That son of a...' He let out a bloody cough and sucked in a mouthful of thick, smoky air. He was going to kill that bastard, but first he needed to make sure this place wasn't going to be his tomb.
Peter grabbed the wall and forced himself to stand, walking shakily to the nearby window. All he had to do was jump and he'd be-
...
Sometimes he wondered if luck loved or hated him. Despite all the garbage it piled on him he had to be doing something right if he managed to survive it all. And now here he was inches from freedom and what did he see? Harry Osborn trapped under huge chunk of wall, his head pressed down against the floor and his breathing soft and barely there.
It would've been so easy to leave him right here, to make sure he'd die in the same place as that bastard Ogre; both idiots who tried to use the serum for their own gain. Hell, he could've stabbed him in the head, made sure that the serum wouldn't pull a last second transformation and let out another rampaging monster that would kill people. No one would know...Gwen wouldn't know.
He was nearly on the window before he stopped and looked back. Osborn wasn't lying when he said he wanted to make up for what he did, and his damned dad was one of the reasons they eve managed to find a lead at all,
'Protect his son...he sure picked the wrong guy.' He turned back to the window. Getting fitted for a wooden kimono here and now would've been exactly what he deserved...
"I just wanted...to be special...like you..."
"God damn it..." He ran back and knelt by Osborn's unconscious body, grabbing the rubble and lifting it off him with a groan, "I'm going to regret this..." He pushed the rubble aside and slung Osborn's bloody arm over his shoulder, ignoring the gruesome injuries that covered the limb. Osborn would probably lose the arm, but it wasn't like he couldn't just get a new one...
Peter jumped off the window with Osborn in tow, pressing the larger man closer when they impacted against the ground. Falls like that would've normally been something he could shrug off, but the accumulated injures almost made him collapse altogether when he landed feet first on the grass.
He let go of Osborn and fell down onto his hands and knees, letting out a few more strangled coughs before he finally vomited, a disgusting mix of bile and blood smattering against the ground, "All of this...for nothing..." He crumpled his hands and scowled. Ogre was dead, but now 'Jack' had the formula and they were right back to where they started. Hopefully Johnson could take over because he got the feeling it was above his punching weight.
His 'peace and quiet' was disturbed by the sound of rapid footsteps and Cindy's frantic voice reaching his ears, "Peter, Harry, you're both alright!" She knelt down next to them and gave him a relieved look, the uncovered half of her face covered in spots of soot, "God, when that place went up in flames I thought you both..." She swallowed nervously and touched his shoulder, "Can't believe you saved him..."
"Yeah..." No thanks to Gwen. She definitely didn't hesitate to jump at the first chance she got, "...Where's Gwen?"
"Gwen?" She looked at him worriedly, "I...I thought she'd be with you two."
"What?" He stood up frantically and looked back at the burning mansion. She left first; did she try and go back to try and save them? "She...I have to-"
"Over here, guys..." Both Spiders' attention were drawn to one of the large pools. Peter saw Gwen's gloved hand waving at them from over the edge before she pulled herself up, a forced smile on her unmasked face despite her soggy appearance, "Landed on the pool...sorry about..." She sighed and shook off the water clinging to her fingers... "I dunno, I just...went nuts. I was having a freakout and didn't want to leave the water..." She bit her bottom lip and refused to meet their gaze. Embarrassment, maybe, "Sorry..."
"Tch..." Peter shut his eyes for a few seconds before he let out a sigh of his own, "This was all a waste of time. Ogre's dead and 'Jack' has the formula. We might as well have just ignored it..."
"S.H.I.E.L.D can help, I'll forward everything we found out." Gwen put her hands on her knees and panted, her expression turning uncertain before she looked at him again, "...I saw you save Harry, Peter. Why did you-"
"Don't ask." Peter shook his head. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have, "Just...make sure to keep him as far away from me as possible. I'm tired of giving this bastard second chances, Gwen...the next time I see him I'm going to finish what I started last time, do you understand?"
"Yeah..." She let out a disappointed breath and nodded. He didn't know whether she really believed he'd kill him in cold blood, but the message was clear, "Yeah, I get you..."
The sounds of sirens reached his ears and he frowned, "Police are coming...probably better if we're gone by the time they get here." Even with the famous 'Spider-Woman' he doubted she'd be able to completely excuse a mountain of corpses and a burning mansion. Knowing his luck they'd blame the entire thing on him and half the city would believe it, "...Do what you want with Osborn, just leave me out of it."
"Pete, you're injured," Cindy said, looking him up and down worriedly, "You need help."
"I agree with Cindy," Gwen added, "Look, just come back to my place, alright? It's close by and we can all get patched up." Gwen gave him an almost begging look before continuing, "I know you're angry, but I don't want to risk you dying. Can you at least trust that?"
"...Fine." He knew he was going to regret it, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He was trapped in this madhouse, there was no reason he had to go insane alone.
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Done...and wow, this chapter went through a lot of changes: Most notably the fight in Ogre's mansion. Originally the 4 were supposed to go through a hallway fight ala Defenders and then tangle with the Lizards when they reached Ogre's throne room, but I changed it instead to Jack-o-Lantern massacring everyone off-screen and him and Noir having a brief fight in the flaming ruins before he leaves. I'm not comfortable enough with writing fights so this is probably for the best, and we got a decent intro for Jack that sets up the future rivalry.
That and Ogre was always going to be filler, so it's not like anything crucial was lost. It will help make Jack's later appearance much less out of nowhere now that he's been established as more than a voice in a phone.
Anyway, like I said this might be my last chapter for a while or my second last depending on whether I decide to write an epilogue of sorts for this arc or just jump right to the next ones. Speaking of which, 2 arcs to choose from:
1. Mad Artistry arc - Dozens of people all over Hell's Kitchen go missing. Does it have anything to do with the bloody painting that the news claims came from a certain 'Vincent van Gore'? Either way it bears investigating, and both Peter and Jessica are on the case; even if their reasons differ from one another. Can they stop the madman Muse before he makes his next masterpiece?
This arc will be more grim and have a partnership of sorts between Peter Parker and Jessica Jones. Will also definitely change the story to an M rating cause some of the segments will reach really gory, Saw-esque levels given what Muse was capable of in Daredevil canon.
2. Franchise arc - Costumed criminals...becoming organized? A new complication arises in Gwen's life when a tip from Hawkeye indicates that the supervillains of the city are banding together to become more effective criminals. Now with the help of Hawkeye and Frog-Man trying to prove his father's innocence, can the trio stop this madness before a new crime syndicate brings the city to its knees?
This one is a lighter romp with the 3 mains being Gwen, Kate and Frog-Man(the hero this story deserves and needs). Might also provide a good break considering how edgy and emo the last few chapters have been.
Oh, and before you vote - I know the Storm Killer and PGH arc have suffered from a rather glaring lack of villain focus in favor of the leads just talking and being dicks to each other, so I'll do my utter best to focus on the villains as well for the upcoming arcs; particularly the Mad Artistry arc since Muse is one guy rather than Gwen dealing with an entire bucketload of bad guys.
The two arcs will also intersect at points, particularly since both Jessica and Hawkeye will want to use Alias investigations as a base, but of course you'll only find out what the other team did dependent on what arc we focus on first. So Peter coming back with stitches in his throat or Gwen reeking of booze won't have much context unless we go their their arcs first.
