Goodwill Presents... Spider-Man!

I figure it's too much work for Ice to be making covers for me. I'd like the issues to sell themselves from now on! ;)

The title will get more traditional, yes, but not immediately. I don't like how Peter just suits up in a funny costume immediately following his first go as a hero. It'll take time, but he'll except the fact that he's gotta wear tights to fit in around New York.

:)
 
Goodwill said:
I figure it's too much work for Ice to be making covers for me. I'd like the issues to sell themselves from now on! :)
Too much work? Never!

I have it as part of what I always do.
 
icemastertron said:
Too much work? Never!

I have it as part of what I always do.

Well, I really appreciate you putting those covers together for me... I couldn't have gotten that much attention right off the bat without you! What I need now are reviews... So, Ice, get on #2 and #3! :) Just kidding, Seldes!
 
The Beetle is interesting. I too enjoy the fact you introduced him early on.
 
Spider-Man #4
It's Dangerous Business Getting Your Morning Paper

The sun pried relentlessly into Peter Parker's eyes on the Monday morning that his life would flip upside down. Tried as he might, Peter could not shake the beams and was forced to get up and face the day. As he put his feet on the ground and stretched, Peter could feel the tense muscles in his body and the wounds he had earned ache as he moved. Peter sighed at the searing pain in his sides, however in the same second disregarded them. Those scars should be worn as badges, each one recognizing the steps towards redemption. Since he last visited Ben's grave, Peter felt that he did a great deal towards, not only the community and snuffing a potential criminal, but also did himself a great service. For the first time in three years, Peter Parker was beginning to appreciate himself a little more.

As Peter took care of his hygienic demands, he heard some stirring outside. As he tuned into the conversation outside of his door, it was not only Harry, but also his father, Norman, too. He couldn't make out any words as they spoke, but the mood wasn't pleasant. Peter could sense the tension through his door. Then, a cell phone rang busily inside of someone's pocket.

"What do you want?" Norman Osborn snarled into the cell phone. Peter made the distinction that it was Norman's phone that had rung. For some reason, Norman was in rare form this morning. "What? Yes, well… OF COURSE I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON!" He cackled loud enough that Peter's door shook. He could visualize the vein on his forehead pulsating now. "Loo- No! No, I want you down in my office in," Norman hesitated. "I want to see you in my office in twenty minutes, do you hear?" The phone clicked.

Peter sensed that the tyrant's fumes had subsided and retreated back into his nostrils. As he simultaneously opened the door, the other slammed as Peter caught an appearance of Norman's leather shoe. Peter rubbed his hair profusely and looked at a worn Harry Osborn, who, even in the early morning, seemed to be battered.

"Sorry," Harry muttered without looking at his crony. "Did he wake you up?"

"No, no," Peter replied. "But he does make me wanna go back to sleep… It's too early in the morning for that kinda stuff…"

"Tell me about it. He's on about something that happened to Oscorp last night and he's taking it all out on me. Stormin' Norman gave me the 'you'll never amount to anything speech' when I told him that it'll blow over. I can't win with that guy." Harry looked up to Peter in desperation.

"What happened?" Peter said innocently. Since the scuffle, Peter was left in the dark about what was going on. It seemed so much had happened since he had been around the apartment.

"You didn't hear?" Harry said, stunned. "It's all over the Bugle, man," Harry tossed Peter a paper, which had been sitting on the table. The headline read in a bold, taunting font: Oscorp to Blame for Backstreet Brawl. Peter took the paper by the folds and looked intensely at the article, taking in what he could in the frantic seconds that his worst fears were realized. As if to make it worse for Peter intentionally, Harry dived into an explanation. "Apparently, some nut steals stuff from Oscorp, shoots one of dad's scientists on his way home and some mutant," Harry said, embellishing the word mutant with certain distaste. "Some mutant steps in and puts an end to it… Cops bring in the crooked %$#@ that stole the stuff. The mutant is at large."

Peter gulped. Unless mass pandemonium broke out on the other side of town, Peter was in it deep with something way beyond his comprehension. He had probably cost Norman Osborn some money, a scientist, and a reputation. Worst off, he thought, he was now deemed a mutant, which was currently a political and social taboo. Peter would've never imagined these repercussions.

"So, this morning, dad woke up to phone calls from the scientist's family about hospital bills, and, on top of that, the press is breathing down his neck and he's lost God knows how much money… Let me tell ya, it's going to be a long semester at this rate."

Peter gave Harry a dense stare. His sense of pride suddenly crippled in the few minutes that he had been awake. He hung his head. "Yeah," He said deep in thought. "Tell me about it."

* * *

"Parker, what the hell's wrong with you," Peter's boss, J. Jonah Jameson, roared. "You're early!" Jameson pounced on him, gave him an enthusiastic slap on the back, and grinned widely. He made eye contact with his pupil, widened his eyes, and began to speak down to him. "You keep this up, and you'll be with Ben Urich more often…"

"Yes, sir," Peter replied, as if he were a private responding to his drill sergeant.

"In fact," JJ said, occupied with his wris****ch. "I'll have you shadow him today." He looked at Peter again, this time smiling so wide that his roach-of-a mustache crinkled underneath his nose. "I'm gonna have him on the developing Spider-Man story. It's a biggie, so be prepared to get your hands dirty."

Peter's eyes widened and he gulped as if a stone was passing through his throat. Was this street fight between him and the Beetle really going to carry on like this? "Sir," Peter asked, at first sounding as if on the offensive. He sighed, took a deep breath and continued. "With all due respect, what's so special about this guy?"

"He's a criminal at large, son," JJ answered. "That means it's a good story to follow…"

"But, I thought I heard that he saved lives, Mister Jameson," Peter rebutted. His reputation as Spider-Man wasn't as strong as he would've hoped.

Jameson was beginning to fume. His fuse was short to begin with and myriads of questions from an inferior ignited his frustration. He was a very animated person when he was aggravated. "Look, whoever told you that obviously wasn't a journalist. We've had eyewitnesses report in that this Spider-Man was helping the other guy set the fires and ravaging apartment buildings… That's what we're basing our investigation off of. Now, enough of these questions. I've gotta get back to work!"

"But--" Peter attempted to ask him a few more questions; however, JJ wasn't having it.

"Ben's waiting for you outside," Jameson hollered. "GO!"

* * *

Ben Urich was one of Peter's favorite co-workers, although they had a difficult relationship. He was a very disciplined man, one that took things very severely, and always seemed prepared for what Jameson stipulated. Because of his successes as a journalist, Peter looked up to the efforts he made towards furthering his career, although he was at a fairly stable position as it were. Urich was a seasoned reporter reaching his prime; the only thing that really seemed to stop him was a bad left knee and time. These obstacles got in the way of Ben having a positive attitude, although Peter and the rest of the people around him endured his frankness.

The two Bugle employees had been lolling around on the street for some time after Jameson sent them out. Oscorp refused to let reporters in, the Harrow family was a dead end, and Urich refused to visit the prison where Abner Jenkins, affectionately dubbed the Beetle after his suit, was being held because he was a "creep".

After the strenuous schedule that proved fruitless, Peter and Ben stopped.

"Hot dog?" Urich croaked at his companion. He pointed his hitchhiker's thumb towards a hot dog vender's till.

"Sure," Peter responded.

Urich nodded and walked up to the man and ordered two hot dogs. As the vender prepared the two hot dogs, Ben looked at Peter. "Kid, can I ask you a question?"

Peter was sort of shocked. Was Urich really going to embrace a conversation and friendship with him? "Uh, sure." Peter replied. He didn't see the harm in saying so.

"Do you like following me?" Ben asked.

"Well, yeah," Peter responded without thought. It wasn't that he wanted to please his superior; Peter longed to become a journalist and to follow a respected gentleman in the field was a great opportunity that Peter wouldn't spoil. After his answering Ben's question, Peter made the mistake of asking a question. "Why?"

The hot dogs were ready and Ben snatched them harshly and handed one to Peter. "Because," he muttered frankly, as if to reply as a child would trying to get one up on his opponent. "This is my life, Peter. It's like you sell away your life to become a vulture. When you say you're a reporter, people will give you a look, you know? Like, that person is all of a sudden under the microscope… They think you're going to pry into their every thought." Ben hung his head. "It's something I really didn't want to become. Loved the hunt, you know, for the news, but I never considered the cost. I became a germ for a paycheck."

Peter looked at him, and understood what he meant. Here was another example of how reputation could cripple a person and here was what Peter would become if he continued down the same road he was. Here was Urich, a respectable man, being cynical about his passion in life. Peter wanted anything in the world not to end up like him. Currently, his reputation was in danger because of the Spider-Man incident. Was it that important that he would have to hang up his heroics to protect what he coveted most?

* * *

The sun, while still out, lurked at the mid-section of the skyscrapers. It didn't give Peter that much light to feel secure, however, his new abilities could surely keep him safe on the rough and tumble New York City streets. He was waltzing through Empire State territory after his tedious day at work, so he didn't really worry in the first place, but knowing the state of the city sine he had ravaged it, he never could be sure.

"Peter!" A voice cackled from behind him. Peter, startled, turned around to find his professor, Curt Conners, trundling along, panting in an effort to catch up with his student. "Peter… It was you."

Peter couldn't possibly imagine what he meant. "What?" He replied with urgency.

Conners couldn't respond; he was fighting for his breath to come to him again. Instead, he held up a newspaper and a wavering finger pointed at the headline, which read: Oscorp to Blame for Backstreet Brawl. Conners looked up at Peter, the color in his face spent.

* * *

Conners harped on Peter as if he were his father.

"I can't believe you would do something like that," Conners ranted. "You know, you're lucky there were no cameras or you woulda been put in the papers, too. The entire city would be at your neck!"

"Doc," Peter responded, examining the news article. "It says here that some eyewitnesses claimed that I had six arms and antennas. I think I'm good."

Conners sized Peter up and gave him a very severe look. "You don't understand, Peter. The NYPD came to me to see what this was all about, you know, since I'm the 'spider guy'," He held up a wad of Peter's web fluids, charred and frayed at the ends. This had come from the encounter in the street. "Your recklessness is going to get me in trouble, too." He tossed the strands aside and paced the room again. "Not only all of this, but I told you to come back here so we can see about these powers and you ignored me."

Peter, who could no long play the role of an inferior, stood as an equal to his teacher. It was then that he felt he had grown up. The aftermath of what he had set in motion left Peter helpless, but it was his responsibility. He would have to take what he had done and mold it into something right again. After visiting his uncle's grave, he was almost obligated. "It's not like I had a choice, Doctor. Just what did you want me to do?"

Conners paced the room. Part of Peter thought that Conners would have an argument for Peter; the other half was convinced that he had been convinced. Unfortunately for Peter, it wasn't the latter. Conners looked at Peter and spat, "You're a criminal." He tossed his hands in the air and turned around; he couldn't bear to look at Peter anymore than he had. "All of my life as a successful scientist and one of my students, one of my friends, is going to take that away from me. That's forty plus years! You're not listening, are you?"

Peter would've answered Curt's last question with a "no". All day, he had been called a mutant, and, for the second time, he had been called a criminal. Peter had saved a life, probably more, and the selfish people that were too concerned with a news story or their career were still oppressing him. For the first time in his life, Peter sacrificed his own hide for the better of someone else's. For the first time, Peter took a glimpse at the bigger picture, tried to add his two bits and was crucified for it. He was convinced he was doing right, though, and would not be convinced otherwise by the few people that he didn't think understood.

"Are you listening to yourself?" Peter shot back at his professor. He thought it was a good idea to start changing the world around him in the very room in which he stood. "A man could've died and I could've been killed… If I didn't do anything, what would've happened? I had what it took to snuff out something that could've turned into something far more horrific than you think this is. I have done nothing to hurt your career and you're down my throat about it… It was an accident, Dr. Conners. This was all an accident. I didn't choose to be bitten by that spider, you know."

The unrelenting aggression in Conner's face gradually waned. He hung his head, swallowed hard and through up his hands again, more animated this time. "You're right." Conners smiled at Peter, emotion running through his expression. "I'm so sorry… I was overreacted." His actions may have been wooden and a little unnatural, but Peter deemed them genuine. "Just, next time," Conners said. "Remember not to be so reckless. If you're going to save lives all of the time, keep your head about you."

Pete had succeeded in his second mission to convince someone who had once stood against him. He extended his arm and said, "I'll need you to help me, Doctor Conners. I can't do this on my own."

Conners grinned. "Sure, Peter," he said excitedly. "We're a team!" He returned Peter's gesture by putting his hand in his.

A firm handshake symbolized a bond between the two men. They had devoted their ambitions to one another's. Whether it would be fatal for either, neither knew, but they were bound by one another's successes and failures.

"Yeah," Peter said. He began for the door. "Just promise me I'm not gonna be some science experiment in the end…"

Conners mustered his breath and smiled. His chest full of air, Conners looked like a proud man, which Peter had not seen in him before. "Don't worry, Peter. I've got a few ideas that will keep me busy for a while."

Peter left, assured that he had an ally.
 
Read this earlier, but didn't comment. I like the way its shaping up, like the characters seem similar to their 616 counterparts, but are still quite different.
:rockon::rockon::rockon::rockon: .5 out of 5.
 
Yeah, I've gotta respect the source material, but change it and make it my own, you know? You seem to understand, Pandrio. That's why you're my favorite Penguin! :) Yeah, but the next arc will be extremely different, I think you'll appreciate it!
 
I'll be posting the next issue shortly... Prepare for the Sinister Six, ladies and gentleman! :) Yes, by issue five, they're coming!
 
Spider-Man #5
One Man Team Part One of Five

Charcoal clouds loomed above New York City—this was very fitting for Peter's current mood. He was so somber he couldn't be sarcastic, something that, if lacking, would uncharacteristic for Peter. As he stood on a street corner, Peter waited for his colleague, Ben Urich. After the first contentious assignment with the esteemed Urich, Peter wasn't thrilled that he had to do it for a second time so soon. So, while he prayed the rain would not begin to spring from the threatening clouds, Peter could anticipate getting criticized again.

Urich finally arrived. Instead of a grave sneer, Peter was greeted with a vulnerable smile and sympathetic eyes. "Good morning, Peter." As soon as Urich greeted him, there was the similar rigidness that Peter could sense yesterday.

"'Morning," Peter replied. "What are we investigating today?"

"JJ figures the Spider-Man deal's a dead-end for now," Urich explained. "He wants me to write a piece on the split between Norman Osborn and Mendell Stromm. Stromm has little faith in Osborn getting out of the slump that he's in so defected to the Roxxon Corporation."

Peter briefly hung his head and sneered. He didn't want to delve into the consequences of his recklessness anymore. Every mistake he made convinced him he murdered his Uncle. He looked up at Urich weakly and asked, "Where are we headed first?"

"Well," Urich said, his subtle smile growing. "Fortunately for us, I've got connections. My nephew, Phil's, a security guard at Roxxon—we'll get in without trouble." Ben Urich was obviously in his element.

"Great, let's get started," Peter muttered looking up at the silver sky.

* * *

Roxxon was a modest building between two insignificant blocks of apartments. Roxxon's corporate identity, a comical demon's head, was painted on the side above the word "Roxxon", lit up in a similar green to their demon. Peter didn't get the same feeling of omnipotence or superiority as he did when he visited Oscorp with Harry.

Peter walked sluggishly to the door as Urich approached the door with importance and warmth. His nephew greeted him and they spoke for a short time until Ben moved along. When he noticed Peter wasn't behind him, he beckoned, "Move it, Parker." Peter sighed heavily and trudged along to keep up with his superior. He acknowledged Phil Urich briefly with a forced smile and met Ben at his side.

Ben walked down the corridor but purposely ignored Peter. He walked into a laboratory where a handful of men were at work. Ben meandered down the aisles, unnoticed by the lab hands. Peter noticed they were all so busy on something that seemed like vials of green tar.

Upon Urich's second lap around the room, one of the scientists noticed him and Peter. "Excuse me," the man said with a raspy voice. "Do you have permission to be here?"

Ben turned to him and smiled. "I'm with the Bugle," he replied. "Of course I have permission. Do you know where I can find Mendell Stromm?"

The robust man stepped around the table, obviously offended that Urich was in attendance. "Get out!" The man cawed furiously.

"Mr. Stromm, I presume?" Urich said, standing firmly in his position. There was a childish smirk painted across his face. "Would you like to tell me your favorite restaurant in the Brooklyn area, sir? I'm doing a piece for--"

Stromm went red in the face and his facial expression reeked of irritation. Stromm was aware of the real reason why Urich was there. He had not patience for pesky press, especially about his professional life. "Get out!" he cackled again.

Peter couldn't stand the yelling between Ben and Mendell, so he lingered about the table to his immediate right. He examined all of the tools and concoctions that Stromm had ignored to scold Urich for coming around. Peter was instantly interested.

Then, something caught Peter's eye. There was a vial of a clear substance propped up near the vial of green. He examined the vial carefully and muttered, "This is a steroid" under his breath. Peter was puzzled as to why they had such a supplement in the laboratory. He was aware Roxxon was prominent in genetic research. Steroids were only useful in medical practices.

"Excuse me?" Mendell Stromm asked, puzzled. "What did you just say, boy?"

"Who, me?" Peter asked, looking around his shoulders to see if there was anyone obviously younger. When he came to the conclusion Stromm was talking to him, he repeated himself. "This is a steroid, right?"

Stromm smiled. "Why, yes," he squealed happily. He walked over to Peter and shot a disgusted look at Urich who stood smiling, satisfied at what Peter was doing. "It's wonderful to see a boy like yourself has an interest in science."

"Well, yeah," Peter said, almost insulted Stromm couldn't pick up on that. "May I ask why you're using a steroid in a place like this? I mean, it just seems kind of odd…"

Stromm was overly excited about answering this question. There was so much enthusiasm in his voice. "We're supposed to be devising a way to improve human capability. It's a really complex project that will hopefully become the solution to dietary problems…"

"Interesting," Urich interrupted. He walked over to the table where Peter and Stromm stood. "That brings up an interesting question, Mister Stromm—Are you a vegetarian?" Urich chuckled at the irony in his question. Stromm was a meaty man; Urich didn't have to ask Stromm to know that he was practically a carnivore.

"Out! Now!" Mendell Stromm yelled at Urich.

Ben put up cautionary hands and backed off towards the door, Peter following him quickly. Ben nodded to his nephew and ignored Stromm's cackling throughout their walk through the lobby. The two of them made it down the block safely, much to Peter's surprise. Peter was sort of offended at how childish Urich acted in the lab, however, he would not say anything in fear that the would not be able to shadow him again.

"You'll make a good reporter one day, Parker," Urich said, smirking.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked naively.

"You did your homework," Ben replied admiringly. "Because you knew your stuff in there, we've got enough information for a story. It's not the story we wanted, but we got an inside look at what's new at Roxxon—because of you." Peter couldn't believe the words he was hearing. Ben was actually being normal. "Good work, kid."

Peter could've died.


* * *

It began to rain heavily just after Peter arrived home. He was fortunate he missed the rain, too, since he was swinging through the city with his new ability to produce webs from his wrists. Peter hadn't completely mastered this skill yet, however, he was gradually getting more graceful.

Harry was moving about busily, which Peter didn't understand, as Peter watched television. He needed to relax after the taxing day with Ben Urich and the Bugle. He felt satisfied with himself after all of the things he had accomplished but mostly because Urich acknowledged him as successful. Peter had swayed another critic to his good graces.

Then, the doorbell droned loudly.

"Harry, you got it?" Peter asked him.

"Can't," Harry simply replied.

Irked at his friend for not being able to get the door as he moved about the apartment frenetically, Peter got up and answered the door. To his surprise, Debra Whitman stood at his door.

His heart sank. Debra Whitman was a good friend of Peter's and was present when he was bitten by the spider. He attempted to avoid her since the incident with the Beetle but obviously couldn't know that was at his door.

"Evening, Debra," Peter said sheepishly. "What can I do for you?"

Deb was not impressed. "Yeah, I was wondering if you say yesterday's paper."

Peter brushed the back of his head, scanning the entrance hall to make sure Harry wasn't hearing anything. "Just the cartoons," he finally replied. "Why?" Peter was beginning to imagine himself tied to a table as a scythe drew closer to his neck.

"Don't play dumb, Peter. Doctor Conners told me what's going on with you."

Harry entered the entrance hall and opened the closet between Peter and Deb. He rummaged through their jackets and other cumbersome articles of clothing and tossing about the entrance hall. He grabbed a trench coat and threw it over his arm and was going to leave, however, Peter stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. Peter looked at Debra, who shot him a demanding look. He sighed and tended to Harry first.

"What's up with you tonight?" Peter asked.

Harry turned around. Something was obviously wrong with him—sweat was gathering under his dark eyes and he didn't have any color in his face. "I'm going out… I'll be back later, ok?"

"Where are you going?" Peter demanded.

"The docks," Harry said, forcing his way out of the room and down the hallway.

Peter couldn't ignore Harry's odd behavior in the least bit. Without saying a word to Debra, he attempted to leave the room, however, to no avail.

"Peter--" Deb whined.

"I've gotta follow him. It's not like him to go all the way to the docks at this time…"

Debra sighed and bit her bottom lip in frustration with Peter. "Are you going to be swinging around again?" She asked sharply. She was brought to tears, too, which puzzled Peter a great deal.

Peter's emotions were boiling—Harry's mysterious departure and Deb's absurd appearance wed Peter's anger with humiliation. "Probably," he said vainly.

Debra stared at him blankly. She fumbled into Peter's apartment door, which was left open, and tossed him a ski mask. "Where this then," she said. "Don't let anyone see you."

Peter took the mask from her hand with difficulty. She held tightly while at the same time contended with Peter and his emotions for his attention. Peter tugged hard and turned without looking at her.

* * *

The rain beat against Peter's head, but he did not care. Peter didn't have time to. He needed to find Harry at the docks and see if he could find out what he was up to. His behavior was so odd and out of nowhere that Peter couldn't help but feel Harry was in danger. It didn't take long for Peter to reach the docks; the trick was to find him in the expansive lot between all of the crates that were lifted from the ships.

Just then, gun shots were heard to left of Peter. Before they went off, though, a tingling sensation could be felt through Peter's body. It was utterly odd, but he was thankful that he was aware of the shots before they sounded. He did even jump. Peter saw a group of men fleeing the docks, and then felt the tingling feeling again. A loud thud fell behind him.

He turned around and saw a tall figure standing parallel to him. It had an athletic build, or so it seemed, under the trench coat he wore. What was most noticeable, though, was that under the hood the figure wore a green goblin mask. However frightening the Green Goblin tried to be, though, Peter stood firmly where he was.

"Spider-Man, I presume?" The Goblin asked. Peter saw a thin smile underneath the hood.

The rain was sopping in Peter's eyes now. "W-what?" Peter asked squinting.

"Don't worry," The Goblin said. "I'm a friend."
 
Finally got around to reading this. I like the way the story is shaping up. Looks like next issue could be even better. :rockon::rockon::rockon::rockon:.75 out of 5. I think calling the goblin green already was kind of a let down though.
 
Well, thank you for getting around to my issue... Around this time of year, I thought family, presents, and food would be more important, but my loyal audience thinks otherwise! :) Thanks for the review, Pandrio!
 
Interesting. You've got good description. I want to see the Sinister Six.
 
You'll get to see them soon enough. I think I've made a few welcome changes to the roster, so look out for some interesting characters!
 
Spider-Man #6
One Man Team Part Two of Five

The rain pelted both Peter and the mysterious Green Goblin as both of them stood, gaping at one another. There were a thousand questions lingering inside of Peter's head at that point and he didn't know where to begin with them. Peter was getting into a sticky situation, he could sense it, but could not draw himself from it.

"No," Peter said to the Goblin. Surely the person before him couldn't really be the demonic figure he appeared to be. "Who are you?"

The Goblin looked puzzled. "I'm afraid I can't answer that," He replied matter-of-factly. "I couldn't imagine you answering that question for me… You are wearing a mask. Only people that have something to hide wear masks. You see," the Goblin explained. "I have something to hide, too."

Peter sensed that he was dealing with someone far smarter than he had originally imagined. This intimidated Peter, however, he still considered his advantages, too. "What do you want?"

"Well," the Goblin said. "Frankly, I need your help with something."

"And what's that," Peter asked, beginning to get agitated by both the rain and the mysterious figure's mysticism. "What do you want me to do?"

"I'm the leader of a handful of men and mutants," The Goblin explained. "We're putting aside our personal grudges for the betterment of New York City. Together, the group is on a crusade to make sure that what's happening is just. While we haven't quite ironed out all of the kinks," the Goblin warned. "We need a sixth member… Are you interested?" He stood, looking all the more statuesque after explaining why he was behind his mask. Peter was assured wearing one wasn't such a silly idea after all.

Peter was apprehensive. Here was an odd generosity that did not seem to make much sense to Peter. Here was another person, another five people that shared the same sentiments as Peter, which he found difficult to digest. Five more people next to Peter wanted to make a difference. Peter thought he could use all the support and allies he could get to accomplish his goal, even with all of the risks involved. Without another thought, Peter made his decision.

"When do I start?" Peter asked, shrugging enthusiastically.

"Meet me here tomorrow night," The Goblin replied sinisterly.

* * *

Peter had the feeling the Green Goblin was Harry Osborn.



The next morning, the exhausted Peter found Osborn sitting at the dinner table, sleeping beside a bowl of cereal. As Peter approached him, there were bruises up and down his arms and lacerations on his face, all of which new since he returned from the docks. Unless something happened before Peter and the Goblin arrived, Harry was the masked figure. Since the time between Harry and Peter both left, it was unlikely anything happened.

Peter lightly tapped his friend on the shoulder. "Harry," Peter said, insisting he get up.

Harry immediately shot up, looking at Peter dumbfounded. Once he came to his senses and noticed Peter's frustration, he put his head down again. "Not now," Harry said to Peter. His head was throbbing and Harry didn't want to do anything else but sleep at the moment.
"Where'd you go last night?" Peter interrogated his roommate.

Harry kept his head down. "I told you, Peter. I went to the docks. One of my friend's bands was playing and I went to go see 'im. Remember? They just opened that new place up down there…"

Peter paused. Suddenly, this made much more sense than his friend dressing up as a goblin and running around the actual docks on a rainy night. His tense feeling suddenly lifted and he asked, "How were they?"

"Alright, actually," Harry said, yawning. "They're bassist is sick."

"But no one's better than you, right?" Peter said, smiling. Since he had calmed down, he went about collecting a cup of coffee

"You haven't seen me play in three years, Pete. You don't even know where I'm at right now. Pete, you've gotta come to one of my shows soon."

Peter smiled. "For sure," he said as he walked towards the door. "Hey, if the Bugle calls would you tell them I've got class until noon? Thanks, dude. I'll see you around."

Just as soon as Peter left, Harry put his head down, muttering, "The hell you'll come see me…" There was obviously some resentment between Harry and Peter. Peter knowing there was a gap between his friend and him was unlikely.

* * *

Peter walked through the quad, only to be intercepted by Debra Whitman. Peter remembered leaving her at his apartment as he went to search for Harry a night prior. With the anxiety left in Debra from worrying how Peter using his powers, he felt it was wrong of him to ignore her. He would've liked to have kept walking; however, he couldn't do that anymore.

"Morning, Deb," he said. He really didn't know how to act. Realizing his sarcasm wasn't appropriate for the occasion he left that behind. "I'm sorry about last night."

Deb opened her mouth as if to say something, but could not. She paused. "I wish I could say it was alright, Peter," Debra forced out of her mouth finally. There was frustration evident in her voice, but it was subdued by a subtle calm in her voice. She obviously cared for Peter; this was how his Aunt May often talked to him when he was in high school. "What if you were killed, Peter? Do you ever think about that when you're swinging around or fighting robot men?"

Peter continued walking, ushering Deb to follow. "All the time," he responded solemnly.

"Peter, how can you say that when you acted so rashly?" Deb said. "Why do you use these powers, because you can?"

Peter swallowed deeply. "Here's a fun fact that you probably didn't know about me," Peter said as he halted and faced Deb. He gave her a very strict, rigid look. It was extremely out of character. "Are you ready for this?" Deb looked at Peter, searchingly. "When I was fifteen, I killed my uncle. W-we were in a car crash. I was driving." Peter was getting lost in the words that were leaving his mouths. It wasn't that he was building up in frustration or consumed in emotion, Peter just had to come to terms with how brutal he had to be to make a point. "When all I can do is blame myself, what do you want me to do?"

"Peter, I don't get how putting yourself at risk helps, though." Deb added, nearly in tears for hearing the stories and then adding a seemingly insensitive comment.

"I was a very selfish person, ok? Ben wasn't. If I can somehow prove that I'm learning by his example, I'll finally be satisfied with myself. These powers are my opportunity… I can understand where you're coming from. You're my friend and you care about me, but please—trust in me."

"Ok, Peter," Debra simply said smiling. Tears were strewn down her face and she was terribly exhausted emotionally, yet she smiled at Peter. She finally understood him and felt a profound affection for him. Now, she wanted to do nothing else but support Peter in what he needed to do. She approached him for a hug and, as Peter embraced her, he began to whimper.

* * *

Peter came home to an empty apartment after his class. Harry must've been out getting dinner, Peter thought, because the only dishes that sat by the sink were this morning's breakfast bowls. Peter disregarded his roommate's absence and took it as an opportunity for him to don his mask once more to see what he could do about New York's injustices. Since he found out that he not only had allies in Dr. Conners and Debra, but a group of people with the same ideals as he, Peter was inspired. The burdens that had been laid across his back since the scuffle with the Beetle would no longer have to be carried only by Peter, which meant that he could serve his promise to Uncle Ben far better than he would have alone.

He slinked into his own bedroom and headed towards his vast window, struggling to pull the black velvet hood over his head. Once he got it on in such a way that he could actually see his surroundings, Peter opened the window and perched on the sill, allowing the subtle breeze to run through the mask's pores. After the moment in which he coveted the peace, he jumped from his window and shot a string of webbing and began his course about the city. It was significantly faster than the breeze, however, Peter enjoyed it all the same. It was still, in a way, peaceful to go at such an inhuman rate for Peter that he could help but smile.

As he swung from ledge to ledge around the city, relying on nothing but his senses, Peter could not, for the life of him detect anything obscure. Then, when he was about a quarter of a way through his second round, an odd vibrating sensation rumbled inside of Peter's head. It wasn't something that he was particularly worried about; it was just an instinct. He scanned the area, only to find some activity on a nearby rooftop. With all of the courage he inherited since the spider bite, Peter quickly turned around and landed on the roof.

There, waiting for him, was the Green Goblin. This time, though, four other masked characters accompanied him.

"Good evening, Spider-Man," the Goblin said with a wide grin. "I would like you to meet the rest of the gang." He opened his arms generously to the rest of the group. "Now, we're six strong and ready to clean this place up!"
 
Finally read this. Not as good as the last issue (well the end of last issue), but still enjoyable and the next one should be really good. :rockon::rockon::rockon::rockon: out of 5.
 
It's understandable. I think what I've set up with the Green Goblin and the Sinister Six is something that, in all my fan fic writing days, I'm proud of most... I know you've got a wait a bit longer to see what exactly I'm talking about but when the remaining issues come out, I hope you'll agree with me... This arc has it all. Hooks, great character and plot development, action, and a bit of comedy... Or at least an attempt at it. I knew coming off of that cliff that I wouldn't be able to follow it, so I didn't make that much of an attempt. I think this issue makes the most sense for the progression of the story... I could have gotten caught up in the Sinister Six and Spider-Man, however, I knew I couldn't forget the supporting cast.

The next issue should be up by Friday... So, if you're interested in reading, hurry!
 
Spider-Man #7
One Man Team Part Three of Five

Peter had a difficult time keeping up with his eyes at this point. There was the Green Goblin, of course, and four other costumed characters, all of which were wearing provocative masks that out did even Peter's brooding appearance. There was a foreign looking man with a black trench coat that was lined with a golden fur that reminded Peter of a lion's mane, another ancient looking man with flight goggles and wore what appeared to be a pair of artificial wings, another that seemed to be wearing an insulation suit, and, finally, there was a normal looking man with the exception of his abnormal height. Peter felt he was at a circus' sideshow and, fortunately enough, he was not the main attraction.

The Green Goblin approached Peter, again with his importance gleaming. He began by pointing his arm at the man with the lion's mane coat. "This," he said importantly. "Is Kraven the Hunter. He's our team's detective." He then stepped over and addressed the main with the wings. "Here we have the Vulture. He's the operation's brain." The Green Goblin took to a more animated strut after this one and walked over to the man in the jump suit. He didn't look too pleased to be there. "This is Electro… Poor guy couldn't think of a better name." The Goblin smiled as his teammate grunted in disgust.

Peter chuckled. "Apparently neither could the Bugle," he said sarcastically. "I mean, c'mon, the 'Spider-Man'?"

"Well, with powers as odd as yours and as inclined as they are to exaggerate I think that fits the bill well," explained the Goblin with a devilish grin. "Moving along," he said, now skipping over to the final person standing on the top of the building. "This is the Absorbing Man… The muscle."

"So," Peter said. "What will I be doing?"

"Vulture?" The Goblin said, reaching out to his teammate to answer Peter's question better. He smirked as he watched the ancient-looking man draw closer. For his appearance, the man was cunning, even as he stepped, and seemed incredibly threatening.

"Well, Spider-Man," he said, with a crooked draw to his voice. "You will be our insider." The Vulture's pursed lips sculpted into a wicked smile.

Peter stood puzzled.

"Our operation tonight is simple," the Vulture said, pausing afterwards. "In theory. The building we are standing on is the laboratory in which Mendell Stromm is now functioning out of. We've caught word that he's planning to distribute the wonder drug that he's currently producing to the black market… We've got to destroy what we can of it so that doesn't happen, understood?"

Here was the corruption of the sciences in front of Peter once again and, this time, he was forced to take a side. He would have preferred to stay neutral, but now it was obvious that one of the sides was going to harm the city by handing out illegal substances to the irresponsible. Peter thought that this was something he needed to do so he could start to clean up the city. He would have five other masked heroes behind him, too, which made him feel more comfortable.

He also thought about the reliability of his source. Peter couldn't doubt that he may be a pawn in a game that would eventually destroy what reputation he had, but it wasn't like he could back out on the team now – he was in the middle of an "operation" after all.

"So," Kraven the Hunter asked in a very thick Russian accent. "Are ve ready?"

"As we'll ever be," the Green Goblin said, putting his arm around Spider-Man in complete confidence. "Here's the plan…"

* * *

The security guard unit at Stromm's lab was modest, but judging from the size of each individual, you would think they could put up a pretty good fight in the face of a criminal. They perused the halls and made sure that the silent, shadowy corridors stayed as they were while conversing about what they planned to do after hours. Despite their hulking stature, they took the role as a security guard casually and didn't think twice about a single threat – or six threats for that matter.

The lights, which were dimly lit throughout the building, suddenly perished. As one the security guards grew alert and exchanged looks and few words so that they could devise a game plan as to how they should solve the problem. They decided to task the youngest of their men to go down to the basement and check the circuit breaker. Again, they didn't take this all too seriously, which was a regrettable decision.

There was a sinister giggle heard throughout the lobby after their youngest co-worker had disappeared into the depths of the basement. As the scanned the room puzzled as to what was going on.

In the next few moments, a lot of things occurred simultaneously. As the security guards moved into a formation that would theoretically keep the facility safe, a myriad of what appeared to be pellets were pelted at them. The pellets expelled gas, which brought the security guards to their knees. Three figures, Green Goblin, Kraven and Spider-Man, donning gas masks on top of their decorative masks dropped from the ceiling. Kraven and the Goblin did not hesitate to render the guards unconscious while Spider-Man sat and consumed the seen.

Here, Peter watched as helpless security guards, already on the ground suffering, were being beaten. Was this truly how he would serve the city? Sure, he could see the injustice in passing out drugs to those who would not use them for medical purposes but to harm those who were doing their job respectably was not what he thought just. So, as he watched Kraven, who was so inclined to batter the security staff, and the Goblin, who took pleasure in holding the guards still, Peter decided that there was more to the Sinister Six than what he had seen on the rooftop. What was he doing trusting a group called the Sinister Six, anyhow?

"Aren't you going to do somesing?" Kraven barked at Peter indignantly, as he had two guards in each of his fists. Kraven head-butted one across the room. "Vell?" He persisted.

The Goblin flung his legs into a roundabout kick and struck one of the last guards standing on the chest. "Don't worry about it," the Goblin said intensely. He was a different person when he was carrying out a mission. "We're done here… Vulture, has Electro given us the go?"


Vulture, perched on top of the building, was dashing through what seemed like a blueprint of the building. "Not yet," he spoke into his microphone unit wrapped around his ear, responding to the Goblin's call. "Electro hasn't reported in yet."


The youngest guard tiptoed down into the basement. He was apprehensive at first, since it was jet black and odd noises rattled throughout the room, but when he brandished his flashlight, the guard was satisfied. The man made it over to the circuit breaker and shined his light on the weathered box, only to find a pronounced chest, covered in a sleek, rubbery black leather. The flashlight followed the leather all the way up to where it ended at a neck, and followed the flesh up to a face.

The face was of Electro's. Bald and scarred, Electro didn't seem to be very attractive; the bodyguard would've described him as a mutant just be the looks of him, he was so unnatural looking. Instead of flinching as the light fell on his eyes, Electro stared blankly at the man with an odd animation in his lips. He cocked his head and reached out to the man, resting his palm on the bodyguard's chest, and began to walk forward.

"Do you wanna play a game with me?" asked Electro, fascinated with the guard's shocked expression. "Charades, maybe? You go first…" Electro pushed the man away from him and stood there; with the same menacing stare he gave the man when the flashlight was shining in his face. He flicked his fingers in the air and, as if on command, sparks of electricity began to spout from the tips. The white-blue light splashed on his face wildly and revealed his devilish smile to the guard, who was now backing against the wall in terror. "Here," Electro said thrusting his electrified hand towards the guard violently. "Do you're best impression of a light bulb!"


Peter, the Goblin, and Kraven were all vigilant as they waited for Vulture to respond after a horrifying cry from the basement. Kraven suspected it was Electro taking care of the last bodyguard, but being the leader of the operation Goblin demanded he not act without having the confirmation. Finally, Vulture spoke on the Goblin's headpiece.

"The basement is cleared," the Vulture said. "Proceed with caution. Absorbing Man is in position and Electro is busy taking out the security cameras, but we can't be so sure he's getting all of them… Spider-Man, are you there?"

This time, the Vulture's voice could be heard on Peter's headset. "Yeah, what's up?" he responded coolly.

"This leg, you're on your own," the Vulture explained. There was an amount of harshness in his voice. "I'll be your eyes and ears, but you're our insider, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Peter said sarcastically. He began to go down the hallway, leaving Kraven and the Green Goblin to guard the lobby.

Kraven began to laugh. "I can't believe how much of a sucker he is…"

"What are you talking about?" Green Goblin said, genuinely puzzled.


Peter found it odd that, in a team effort, he was the only one flying solo, and on the most important part no less. His suspicions were beginning to grow, especially for the Green Goblin since he was the one who recruited Peter in the first place. Perhaps Peter was being used specifically for his ability. Whatever his purpose on the team was, Peter decided that it wasn't to restore justice in the corrupt city.

"Hang a left here," the Vulture said in a static voice. "The door should be open… Electro took care of the electrical locks, too."

Peter did as he was told without responding. The door creaked open and, to his surprise, he found himself in the same room he was in with Ben Urich. It looked different without all of the people and the rats creeping around. As he surveyed the room, he could see the mounds of yellow dust still sittin there.

"Now," the Vulture said. "Grab a sample of that yellow dust and tell Electro you've got the room secured and move out… It's mission accomplished."

There was something incredibly peculiar about how the mission panned out. Peter thought that, aft all the trouble with the security guards, that one sample of the drug was hardly worth going after. There had to be more to it.

* * *

"Good job," Kraven said to Peter as he reentered the lobby. "You're free to go now."

Peter could just leave? Things were definitely beginning to get odd. Peter grew frustrated; he could not act on instinct against five other people if this operation hit the fan, so all he could do was leave.

After he left, the five remaining members of the Sinister Six met in the lobby. The Absorbing Man had been watching the door the entire time.

Vulture spoke up. "I think we did well… Electro, turn the lights on again."

Electro nodded and threw his hands in the air, sending currents of electricity throughout the building. He sent so much power through the lights, though, that they began to explode and set fire to the complex. Electro was easily entertained and began laughing as more lights bursts as he fed the cables more power.

"Hey, what the hell is this about?" the Goblin cried.

"We're assuring ourselves a success," the Vulture answered him. "Remember I said we would play to our strengths? Spider-Man is publicly known and we're not, right? Well, if he was responsible for setting this place on fire, we'd get off scotch free and the drugs would be destroyed!"

"Wait, so how vill it be traced back to Spidey if ve're still here and he's gone?" Kraven blundered.

The Vulture sighed. "I told you already," he cackled. "The web-head was the only one in the room where we left the security cameras on, that's how! Now let's get the hell outta here!"

The troops headed out, but one remained. The Green Goblin was boiling inside of his mask, not because of the heat in which the fire brought on, but the undermining of authority that Vulture was so inclined to do. He was the brains, sure, but the Goblin was ultimately the person calling the shots. The Vulture's attempt to overthrow the Green Goblin was admirable, but would only come back to bite him. The Green Goblin could smell a mutiny and he would do anything in his power to avoid that.
 

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