09-25-2004, 05:08 PM
Peter knelt by Dan's side, using the moments he had bought them to seal his wounds with webbing, trying his best to stop the bleeding. He was no medical expert, but what he saw didn't look good.
"Dan doesn't look like he can take much more of this. I'll have to keep the vampires off of him, draw their attacks towards me, keep them away from Dan and...TESSA!"
His head bolted away from Dan and towards the building that housed the human computer. His eyes went wide in horror as he saw the vampiric version of Hank closing in on her.
There was no hesitation in the spider's actions. In one fluid movement he had left Dan's side, flying through the air at the wall that stood closet to him. The instant his feet hit the brick exterior he was off it moving to another one, using each wall to push himself farther, higher, faster. He would not loose another teammate. He refused to.
----------------------------------Flashback-----------------------------------
The sheer force of the explosion knocked him off his feet, sending him, along with the other mutants in the room, flying. He hit the wall, nearly going through it, unable to keep the kids from landing as equally hard. The cloud of smoke and dust that now covered the newly applied hole in the wall filtered out the light, keeping their assaliant hidden. His head was ringing, his vision was blurred, he could taste the blood that was dripping from the cut on his forehead in his mouth. Everything was moving so fast, as if the world around him had been placed in fast foward, and he was stuck his current slowed state. He watched as the kids tried to get to their feet, trying to shake off the blow, their clothes tattered, their bodies cut and bruised. They were so close, almost made it to the exit. Almost escaped. But he had been waiting for them. They all had. Had every escape route blocked. Had them trapped. They were going to win, going to kill them. Kill them all.
"NO!"
He wouldn't die. Couldn't. He had to get the kids to safety. Had to get them out of here. He tried to get up, screamed at his body to do so, but it would not responsed, would not obey his command. Then he heard it. A ringing in his head, but not the one he had suffered from the explosion. It was so familiar. He had heard it before. What was that sound?
Spider sense.
He almost didn't see it. Almost missed it coming at him. A second more and he would have been dead. But as if acting on some last reserve, some instictive motion, his body moved. And it missed. He was on his feet, barely able to stand. Suddenly, all of his senses that had seemed dead before immediatley awoke, almost overwhemling his mind with the pain he know felt. His knees felt like they were going to give under the weight of his body at any moment. He took in a breath, and immediately his brain registered the pain that his side was giving off. His ribs were broken. Two at the very least. Maybe more. He couldn't tell. The cut was getting worse. The blood was running over his left eye. Didn't matter. He couldn't use it anyway. His left arm was hanging lifelessly to his side. It was broken in more that one place. He could get rid of it, but he would need it to carry the kids out of here. The kids.
He eyes watched as the snake that had tried to strike him moments ago recoiled back to the cloud of dust, being consumed by it. The kids were screaming in fear. Some were crying. Some were running for the door. Others were helping those that had fallen. And then there screams stopped. Like a flash of lighting they moved, tearing through their bodies like paper, wrapping tightly around the corpses they now held in their grasp.
The crying was replaced with laughing. A man walked out of the hole, the dust whisped around him. A sadistic smile was spread across his face. Peter could see blood on the black shades the man wore, but he knew it was not his own. The snakes came to him, light from the hole finally piercing through the fading cloud, glistening upon their silver texture that was now plastered with shades of red. The snakes looked at him hungrily, having already dropped the dismantled bodies they held and eying their next meal.
"Really, Peter, is this what you've been doing with your life? Trying to protect the weak? Trying to save those who can not save themselves? I would have thought I taught you better Peter."
He spoke, taunting him, every would dripping with a lust for blood, a lust to open more wounds, and scare the spider emotionally.
"You too were once weak. Remember? When they first gave me you, I looked down at you with disgust. A mere child, one who was cowering away, calling out to his mommy and daddy, soaked in his own tears. You were pathetic."
"He's moving, getting closer. The snakes, they're waiting. Why are they waiting?"
"But then I noticed something in you. I noticed a certain...determination, a kind of...spirit. I had broken the others, molded them into the perfect lap dogs to do our bidding. But you. You could not be broken. Oh, you bent mind you. I would bend your spirit, bend you valor and determination. But you never broke. It was like something inside you refused to let go. Refused to loose. Every field test with you ended in abysmal failure, all because you would not break."
"What's he saying? Can't hear him. Can't think. Head's swimming. The kids. Oh my God. He killed the kids."
"And then you were taken from me. You friends stole you before I had the chance to finish what I started. Before I could break you."
"Friends? Panther. Felicia. Got to get to them. Got to save them."
The injured arachnid tried to move. Tried to go towards his friends. His teammates. But such an action only resulted in him falling to the ground. The monster advancing stopped, but his pets did not. He could hear them hiss, could smell the fresh blood that covered the metal teeth that were so eagerly waiting to feast again.
"And now Peter, after all these years, you know what I've realized? You were broken all along. This charade, this galant effort to 'save oppressed mutants' that has been a thorn in both mine and Osborn's side for so long is just a cover, just a mask. Because behind the mask, your still a scared little boy crying for mommy and daddy."
Then they moved, drawing closer to him, preparing to rip through his flesh. He lay their, broken. He was broken. Otto was right, he was going to die, just like his mom and dad. His mom and dad.
His eyes drew closed, giving into defeat, into death......
"Peter."
He heard her voice. Her heavenly voice that he longed to hear for so long. His mom had called out to him but he had been too busy laughing with his father to notice. She smiled at the sight. They were dressed up, preparing to go to Sunday Mass. He was playing with his ball, his red bouncing ball that he had got for his birthday. It was his favorite. His parents could afford any toy in the world, but he loved it the most. His dad was tossing it to him, he had tried to catch it, but it got away from his grasp, heading towards the front door. He chased after it, giggling all the way in pure bliss, reaching the ball with a childish smile on his face. Then there was a thunder, and the door was swung open. He turned to see who had it was, confused at all the commotion. His parents' once care free and joyful manner were replaced with fear and alarm. Peter turned to them, seeing his father rush to his side. And then there was thunder. His father stopped. His shirt was red. Why was it red? He watched as his dead fell to his knees, and then gravity finished the job. His mom screamed, but their thunder was louder. Her blue blouse was becoming red. The red was spreading. Why was it spreading? She fell by his dad. Tears were swelling in his eyes, cascading to the ground. They tried to take him, tried to take his ball from him. He would not let go. He clung to it with a valor, he didn't know why, but he did. The tears were flowing more freely now. He hung on, but they took it, took his ball, took him. He cried, crying for his parents to get up, crying for them to get up. But they wouldn't.
"MOM! DAD!"
His eyes shot open. When the snakes hit he was not there. The doctor looked at him in dumbfound suprise. He ignored the pain. Ignored everything. He struck his enemy, struck him unrelentlessly. He was running on blood lust, on controllable rage, the rage of the spider.
-----------------------------End Flashback ----------------------------------
The anger inside him was swelling uncontrollably. He would not loose her. The monster would not touch her. His right hand clenched into a fist as he prepared to release all his anguish, all his rage on the creature. He just hoped he would strike before it did.
"Dan doesn't look like he can take much more of this. I'll have to keep the vampires off of him, draw their attacks towards me, keep them away from Dan and...TESSA!"
His head bolted away from Dan and towards the building that housed the human computer. His eyes went wide in horror as he saw the vampiric version of Hank closing in on her.
There was no hesitation in the spider's actions. In one fluid movement he had left Dan's side, flying through the air at the wall that stood closet to him. The instant his feet hit the brick exterior he was off it moving to another one, using each wall to push himself farther, higher, faster. He would not loose another teammate. He refused to.
----------------------------------Flashback-----------------------------------
The sheer force of the explosion knocked him off his feet, sending him, along with the other mutants in the room, flying. He hit the wall, nearly going through it, unable to keep the kids from landing as equally hard. The cloud of smoke and dust that now covered the newly applied hole in the wall filtered out the light, keeping their assaliant hidden. His head was ringing, his vision was blurred, he could taste the blood that was dripping from the cut on his forehead in his mouth. Everything was moving so fast, as if the world around him had been placed in fast foward, and he was stuck his current slowed state. He watched as the kids tried to get to their feet, trying to shake off the blow, their clothes tattered, their bodies cut and bruised. They were so close, almost made it to the exit. Almost escaped. But he had been waiting for them. They all had. Had every escape route blocked. Had them trapped. They were going to win, going to kill them. Kill them all.
"NO!"
He wouldn't die. Couldn't. He had to get the kids to safety. Had to get them out of here. He tried to get up, screamed at his body to do so, but it would not responsed, would not obey his command. Then he heard it. A ringing in his head, but not the one he had suffered from the explosion. It was so familiar. He had heard it before. What was that sound?
Spider sense.
He almost didn't see it. Almost missed it coming at him. A second more and he would have been dead. But as if acting on some last reserve, some instictive motion, his body moved. And it missed. He was on his feet, barely able to stand. Suddenly, all of his senses that had seemed dead before immediatley awoke, almost overwhemling his mind with the pain he know felt. His knees felt like they were going to give under the weight of his body at any moment. He took in a breath, and immediately his brain registered the pain that his side was giving off. His ribs were broken. Two at the very least. Maybe more. He couldn't tell. The cut was getting worse. The blood was running over his left eye. Didn't matter. He couldn't use it anyway. His left arm was hanging lifelessly to his side. It was broken in more that one place. He could get rid of it, but he would need it to carry the kids out of here. The kids.
He eyes watched as the snake that had tried to strike him moments ago recoiled back to the cloud of dust, being consumed by it. The kids were screaming in fear. Some were crying. Some were running for the door. Others were helping those that had fallen. And then there screams stopped. Like a flash of lighting they moved, tearing through their bodies like paper, wrapping tightly around the corpses they now held in their grasp.
The crying was replaced with laughing. A man walked out of the hole, the dust whisped around him. A sadistic smile was spread across his face. Peter could see blood on the black shades the man wore, but he knew it was not his own. The snakes came to him, light from the hole finally piercing through the fading cloud, glistening upon their silver texture that was now plastered with shades of red. The snakes looked at him hungrily, having already dropped the dismantled bodies they held and eying their next meal.
"Really, Peter, is this what you've been doing with your life? Trying to protect the weak? Trying to save those who can not save themselves? I would have thought I taught you better Peter."
He spoke, taunting him, every would dripping with a lust for blood, a lust to open more wounds, and scare the spider emotionally.
"You too were once weak. Remember? When they first gave me you, I looked down at you with disgust. A mere child, one who was cowering away, calling out to his mommy and daddy, soaked in his own tears. You were pathetic."
"He's moving, getting closer. The snakes, they're waiting. Why are they waiting?"
"But then I noticed something in you. I noticed a certain...determination, a kind of...spirit. I had broken the others, molded them into the perfect lap dogs to do our bidding. But you. You could not be broken. Oh, you bent mind you. I would bend your spirit, bend you valor and determination. But you never broke. It was like something inside you refused to let go. Refused to loose. Every field test with you ended in abysmal failure, all because you would not break."
"What's he saying? Can't hear him. Can't think. Head's swimming. The kids. Oh my God. He killed the kids."
"And then you were taken from me. You friends stole you before I had the chance to finish what I started. Before I could break you."
"Friends? Panther. Felicia. Got to get to them. Got to save them."
The injured arachnid tried to move. Tried to go towards his friends. His teammates. But such an action only resulted in him falling to the ground. The monster advancing stopped, but his pets did not. He could hear them hiss, could smell the fresh blood that covered the metal teeth that were so eagerly waiting to feast again.
"And now Peter, after all these years, you know what I've realized? You were broken all along. This charade, this galant effort to 'save oppressed mutants' that has been a thorn in both mine and Osborn's side for so long is just a cover, just a mask. Because behind the mask, your still a scared little boy crying for mommy and daddy."
Then they moved, drawing closer to him, preparing to rip through his flesh. He lay their, broken. He was broken. Otto was right, he was going to die, just like his mom and dad. His mom and dad.
His eyes drew closed, giving into defeat, into death......
"Peter."
He heard her voice. Her heavenly voice that he longed to hear for so long. His mom had called out to him but he had been too busy laughing with his father to notice. She smiled at the sight. They were dressed up, preparing to go to Sunday Mass. He was playing with his ball, his red bouncing ball that he had got for his birthday. It was his favorite. His parents could afford any toy in the world, but he loved it the most. His dad was tossing it to him, he had tried to catch it, but it got away from his grasp, heading towards the front door. He chased after it, giggling all the way in pure bliss, reaching the ball with a childish smile on his face. Then there was a thunder, and the door was swung open. He turned to see who had it was, confused at all the commotion. His parents' once care free and joyful manner were replaced with fear and alarm. Peter turned to them, seeing his father rush to his side. And then there was thunder. His father stopped. His shirt was red. Why was it red? He watched as his dead fell to his knees, and then gravity finished the job. His mom screamed, but their thunder was louder. Her blue blouse was becoming red. The red was spreading. Why was it spreading? She fell by his dad. Tears were swelling in his eyes, cascading to the ground. They tried to take him, tried to take his ball from him. He would not let go. He clung to it with a valor, he didn't know why, but he did. The tears were flowing more freely now. He hung on, but they took it, took his ball, took him. He cried, crying for his parents to get up, crying for them to get up. But they wouldn't.
"MOM! DAD!"
His eyes shot open. When the snakes hit he was not there. The doctor looked at him in dumbfound suprise. He ignored the pain. Ignored everything. He struck his enemy, struck him unrelentlessly. He was running on blood lust, on controllable rage, the rage of the spider.
-----------------------------End Flashback ----------------------------------
The anger inside him was swelling uncontrollably. He would not loose her. The monster would not touch her. His right hand clenched into a fist as he prepared to release all his anguish, all his rage on the creature. He just hoped he would strike before it did.