Goodwill Presents... Spider-Man!

[Goodwill]

I will release the next issue on Wednesday... I think that'll be a good enough time. Prepare yourselves for a new villain!

 

[Goodwill]

Spider-Man #10
A Shadow Part One of Three

Since his reputation as Spider-Man had been tarnished, Peter felt compelled to change it. Perhaps his thoughts backtracked to the days in high school where he gained or lost credibility by the clothes he wore or the people he associated himself with that convinced him this was an issue, however, whatever it was Peter would stop at nothing to prove his worth to a city that would be more inclined to spit on him rather than to applaud his efforts. Sure, Peter had been told by the Green Goblin that if what he did didn't make as big an impression as he would like it wouldn't matter as long as the streets are cleaner, but something was driving him to change the course of this city drastically within the next few times he donned his Spider-Man mask.

Currently, Peter found himself traipsing along the green to visit Debra Whitman's dormitory. He had an idea that would, in turn, create a more appealing Spider-Man, and he decided that Deb was the only person that could help him out. After all of the conflict between the two of them, Peter thought it would be a shot in the dark, but one worth taking.

As he approached her facility, he saw her out front and called, "Hey, good morning, beautiful!" to her. Peter jogged in her direction to greet her.

Deb smiled. She tried to conceal the fact that Peter calling her "beautiful" amused her, but her attempt floundered. "'Morning," she yawned, kneeling to get her morning paper. "Oh, here's something… You're not on the front page for the first time in a week…"

Peter laughed. "Eh, when you get time to look through it, there'll be something about me. I doubt there will be anything past the third page, though, I'm usually top priority for the Bugle," Peter joked. His joke fell flat and Deb, rolling her eyes, started to walk away. "What? So, I'm getting used to this publicity thing…"

"Peter, listen to you," Debra said desperately. "You don't even sound like the same person anymore. All it is with you now is keeping secrets and going to sleep every night knowing that I could wake up to find you dead on the newspaper!" You could tell that this was taking a lot out of her, not just because it was probably too early to exert so much feeling into what she was saying, but she genuinely cared about Peter. "You're really starting to scare me!"

Peter stood there, frozen. Had she not listened to what he said before? Then, for the first time, ice water had been dumped on his head since the spider bite. Peter didn't realize how much he had pulled himself away from what world he knew to become Spider-Man until now, when a person was struggling to have a relationship with him. He wondered how Aunt May and Harry were. Did they feel as distant from Peter as Deb did? It was really an exhausting experience to stand here and plead for a solution, that Peter tucked his hands and their contents behind his back, making sure Deb wouldn't see.

"What is that?" Deb said, inching around Peter's back so that she could see what he was trying to hide from her. Peter immaturely backed away whenever she advanced. She finally got a hold of his arm and began to tug rigorously, trying to see what more Peter had to keep from her. Finally, Peter stopped struggling with her and revealed the material to her. She looked up at him in disappointment.

"Ski masks weren't my thing," Peter said, blushing. He didn't even try to smile, either, he thought the mood was entirely too tense to pull something over like that. Her expression of despair and resentment made Peter wince. "Deb, I--"

Deb exhausted a stressful sound. "What do you want me to do with all this? This is way too much extra cloth for just a mask, Peter."

"Well," Peter muttered, hesitant. "I want you to make me, uh, a, uh… A costume."

"What?" Deb spouted. "You want me to make you tights? Peter, what is going on with you?! First it was a mask and now a--"

"Deb, Deb!" Peter intervened. "I know, alright?" Suddenly, Peter was getting extremely animated. Maybe it was because he felt as if he was confined in a room with locks, but he was caught up in the moment. "Just know that there's a method to my madness." He was donning a new costume not only to become a public figure, but also to protect those he loved. By wearing a costume, no one would recognize he was Peter Parker. "Like I said, just keep the faith… Besides, I can make it up to you…"

"And how are you going to do that?" Deb said indignantly.

Peter gulped. After the tense situation, Peter could either make it worse or make it better. It was worth a shot, regardless, so he went for it. "I could take you out or something… Just you and I. We'll get a movie or something."

"Well, do you wanna come over to my house for dinner, say, next Saturday?" She said, obviously interested. "I need to get some measurements from you for this costume of yours." Peter could see the doubt and the disbelief in her eyes; however, he knew he could do something to change her mind. Peter had no choice.

"Yeah, I'll bring a movie, then," Peter said with a modest smirk. He had recovered from his crash. "Here," he said, handing Debra the cloth. "I'll see you at around seven?" Peter asked.

"It's a date," Debra responded.

Peter walked away with the weirdest feeling. He was happy, of course, for the fact that he was going to spend more time with Debra on a more personal level, but also, he couldn't help but feel that he was opening up to a whole bunch of trouble. If Peter were to get involved with Debra, which would be one more person he would have to watch even more close to. Of course, she was the first person he ever spoke about Ben to in all of his three years outside of May, so she had to be something. It would be a burden, but, at long last, Peter thought so was watching over an entire city. If Peter were to get involved with Debra, he would treat her as a regular girlfriend; when he was with her, for instance, he would not be Spider-Man.

The differences in Peter's two identities were adding up, which was not an obvious thing to him.

* * *

Peter returned home after talking to Debra, only to leave again. He needed to stop for lunch and collect up a few things before going over to Dr. Conners to see what he could to help him set up for his new research. Peter was apprehensive about going to Conner's lab at first since he thought it would only end up as the meeting with Debra did, however, he couldn't shy away from something like this. Peter needed to handle these situations like an adult. Peter was responsible for the mess he made, after all.

Just as Peter was going to walk out the door, Harry was walking in. Peter hadn't really taken the time to pay attention before, but it seemed that the cuts and bruises on Harry's body were more serious than Peter originally anticipated. Behind him, lurked a girl, unfamiliar to Peter. Peter gave Harry a searching look; he needed answers. First there were these unusual lacerations cropping up all over his body and now a girl was coming into their apartment?

"Oh, hey, Pete," Harry said, as he awkwardly slid past Peter in the narrow entrance. The girl followed, smiling vibrantly and batting her cat eyes at Peter. "What's new with you?"

"Nothing," Peter said. "And you? I see you've made a few new friends."

Harry flung around to look at Peter, his smile was as wide as he could get it; however, it was stunted since the swelling in one of his cheeks. "Oh," Harry laughed, jovially. He seemed quite foolish, too, which was an odd trait Harry must've picked up recently. "This is Gwen Stacy, Pete."

Peter smiled warmly and extended his hand in friendship. "It's good to meet you."

"Good to meet you, too," she replied, biting her bottom lip. She was certainly flirtatious.

"Hey, Pete," Harry said, rummaging through the kitchen for something for him and his friend to eat. "Are you gonna be able to come to my show tonight? We're gonna play two new songs…"

Peter was halfway through the door, but replied, "Can't. I've gotta meet Doctor Conners. He's gonna show me what he's been up to the past two weeks."

"Well, ok," Harry said, slightly dejected. "Is this one of Conners' 'cure for cancer' ideas?"

"Don't know it is," Peter said. "But I'm definitely looking forward to seeing what's up."

Harry gave Peter a weak smile and waved at him as he went out the door. Peter didn't bother to engage in any further conversation. It was best Peter left Harry with his new friend. It hurt, though, to know that even his roommate was growing distant to him. Peter didn't really think he had devoted as much attention to his career as Spider-Man as he could, but now the same could be said about spending time with his loved ones. This was tearing Peter apart, but he wouldn't let anyone know about that. Peter was too strong to let his guard down.

* * *

While Peter was walking to the laboratory, he could not help but think about his short career as Spider-Man. Since the spider bite, Peter had been fortunate enough to experience life as a person whose extraordinary abilities reached far beyond those that surrounded him. It was something that Peter couldn't come to grips with that this was all too good to be true. Not only did his new powers change Peter's perspective on life, but also they erected a barrier between him and so many aspects in his life. His abilities at work and in his college courses were hindered and, on top of that, Peter was distanced from his loved ones, who, despite Peter's absence, pressed on. It was a sort of unsettling feeling because he was trying to use his powers in a positive way, but nothing seemed to pan out the way they should. Peter was still convinced that he could prove his worth to New York City and, at the same time, maintain his values in life. The only thing missing in this equation, of course, was a person in distress or a villain who needed punishing.

The thoughts were still fresh in his head when Peter entered Conners' lab. When Peter walked in, he felt almost as if he stood in a completely different room than he did when he was last here, when the spider bit him. There was what appeared to be a makeshift zoo in one of the corners, housing iguanas, and the counters had been replaced with robust pillars with all sorts of cabinets and buttons. Peter noticed that there was a single pillar, more slender than the rest, which resided in the middle, which had a door-sized opening in it. It was certainly large enough to fit a human. There were all sorts of tropical plants placed strategically around the room to make it look more inviting, but to no avail. Peter finally found a single desk with papers strewn all around it that must have been where Dr. Conners would refer to in this technological jungle. Peter made his way over to the desk and leaned on it patiently, waiting for the doctor to make an appearance.

It wasn't long before Dr. Conners traipsed over to the desk, nor wasn't it long that Peter realized something was terribly wrong with him. His usually cropped dirty blonde hair was greasy and going in all sorts of unnatural directions and his face was stripped of color or feeling. Conners was so pale that he gave off the illusion that he hadn't eaten in a few weeks – his cheeks were sunken and his jaw dangling. His single arm was outstretched and trembling and his legs barely held him.

"Peter…" He mumbled. "You've gotta leave. Now!" His voice did not seem urgent, however, it did seem severely frightened. Conners stood in front of Peter panting, retarded reactions ensued and beads of sweat found themselves dripping lazily from his brow.

Peter's instinct for concern immediately shot through him. Despite all the recklessness, he was a sensitive guy at heart and one that would try to tame the frenetic Conners. "Doc," he said, not soothingly and not harshly, but almost melodically. Peter did not want to rouse him more than he was. "What's going on?"

Conners' took his warm arm and started dashing it along his lab coat, while muttering, "I-I… The campus police… We…" Then his arm stiffened; he had struck gold. He reached into his breast pocket and revealed what appeared to be a piece of paper. As he outstretched his hand, he, in turn, chose to trust his student, Peter, far more than he had since the spider bite. It was a leap of faith for Curt, but, given the circumstances, he thought it had to be done.

Peter took the letter and scanned it menacingly. He looked up at Conners in shock afterward; Peter immediately lunged into the same twisted, abused feeling as Conners himself. Peter's golden complexion flushed from his flesh and looked extremely concerned.

From what Peter read in the letter, Conners was a marked man.

 

[Pandrio]

Really good issue, good to see Conners again and Gwen Stacy's introduction. I liked the allusion to Spider-Man within Peter's mind without him actually showing up. I think what I enjoy most aout your writing is the realistic life of Peter Parker and taking an issue away from the web-head to portray that life is a good thing now and again. :rockon::rockon::rockon::rockon::rockon: out of 5.

 

[Goodwill]

Well, I'll begin by saying that I think having Spider-Man on the Avengers is a mistake. Peter Parker used to be this character others could identify with and, now, he's living in Stark Tower with Captain America and Iron Man, fighting larger scale villains... I think this takes a lot away from his character. That, and the fact that he died and came back to life recently, too. I'm trying to solitify what Spider-Man was good for for all of these years - Peter Parker.

I'm glad you liked this issue... Wait until the next arc - Gwen Stacy will take a real big turned, friend! ;-)

 

[Goodwill]

The next episode will be up next Friday... Who is the man behind Connors' note? Find out!

 

[Goodwill]

Whether everyone is caught up or not, the next issue will be released tomorrow... Well, posted tomorrow.

 

[Goodwill]

Spider-Man #11
A Shadow Part Two of Three

The police did not hesitate with getting to the bottom of the conflict between Doctor Curt Conners and the mysterious source of the ransom note. Their investigation began with a set of grueling questions surrounding Conners' career and personal life, none of which he was prepared to answer. It was odd, though, questions, at least to Peter, seemed easy enough to answer, but Conners avoided them skillfully. Had he done this before? Peter wasn't sure, but he was jostled away from his college professor to a pair of cops who wanted to ask him a few questions.

Peter followed the cops willingly, fully aware that he still had the letter in his hands. Innocently, he extended his hand with the letter crumpled inside his fist and let the officials handle it. One of the cops tapped another on a shoulder and passed him the letter so that he could pay more attention to Peter. He was a brooding figure who looked more threatening than helpful. The other, a female, was at least more sensitive to the unquestionably puzzled Peter. He appreciated that a great deal.

"My name's Jeanne DeWulf," the female introduced herself to Peter warmly.

"I'm Mic Brozek," the large man grunted. He dug into his pocket and revealed a pen and pad of paper. "We'd like to ask you a few questions before you go, ok?" The Officer glanced at Peter, not expecting a response, and continued with what he needed with Peter. "What is your relationship with Curt Conners?"

Peter felt the worrisome boulder lift from his shoulders. He didn't think this would be such a trying experience after all. During the interrogation, Peter soon found that he was right. The two police officers wanted to know things about Doctor Conners on a more personally level, probably to see if he dabbled in anything against any laws. Peter assured them that he was a man of integrity and of science and he would not dare do anything that would amount to a letter, threatening his life. Peter thought he was as reliable as anyone and, as he left, he thought things would settle and Conners wouldn't be in too much trouble afterwards.

Peter began to walk out the door, leaving behind the police, his professor, and the horrific scene-taking place in the lab. Peter shot an eye at his professor as he was walking out and, to his surprise; he was talking the officers' ears off now. Peter thought this was a peculiar turn of events, especially since, before, he would not speak about anything. Conners had something to hide from Peter and this ransom note exposed Doctor Conners as a crook. Peter would get to the bottom of this as soon as the police left.

* * *

Doctor Curt Conners stayed at his lab well after the police left. The unsettling fear inside of him did not subside, but Conners became more relaxed after all was said and done. He realized that he was in grave danger and this was not to be taken lightly, however, Conners had no choice but to pursue a normal life. This feat was impossible, as it were, but at least he was making an attempt.

Conner was scrambling to throw his desk's contents into a cardboard box before he went home. He wanted so much to see his wife and kids after this trying experience, but could not draw himself from his work since; after all, this was the stuff getting him in trouble. Although the police had taken the actual note, Curt knew exactly what it said.

Doctor Conners,

If you value your life and, more importantly, your career, terminate your work papers for the regeneration of limbs. If you do not comply, the consequences will be extremely regrettable. You see, I put a certain amount of passion into my profession and, if you spoil it by gaining use of your arm again, I'll be severely hurt. Scars are physical memories, Dr. Conners, you wouldn't want to forget me, would you? Remember; don't bite the hand that feeds you… But you already know that, right?

--A friend

Conners scoffed at his stalker's sarcasm. How could a person by so rude as to make fun of his handicap? Curt already found it difficult enough to do daily tasks with only one arm, he didn't need someone jabbing him for it. Then, it occurred to him; it all boiled down to what happened to his arm. When he lost it, something terrible happened…

Leaving the box behind, Doctor Conners bolted down the street to find Peter Parker. He needed his help. There may be a chance Conners could end this ordeal sooner rather than later. Conners was hoping Peter's alter ego, Spider-Man, was available. He was stupid for not realizing it before, and keeping information from Peter, for that matter, but, as Conners said, 'better late than never, right'?

* * *

Peter Parker came back to an empty apartment. Harry and his new girlfriend, Gwen, were probably still at his concert and wouldn't be coming back for another couple hours. Peter felt as if he was stranded on a deserted island at this point, with no one to really confide in at this point. He knew that Dr. Conners and Debra Whitman were two people that knew both sides of him, but knowing Conners exclusively on a professional level and trying to keep a safe distance from Deb, if only to protect her, left Peter at a loss. He simply sighed and went to prepare his dinner; afterwards he would suit up as Spider-Man to see if there was any justice to be served.

Peter had come to accept his surroundings and enjoyed the cold Chinese food from the refrigerator. He was just throwing his paper plate away, when there was a knock at the door. It was Dr. Conners.

Peter was sort of puzzled. "What's up, Professor?" He wanted to ask why he was here, but he couldn't bring himself to do so politely. Considering he was being stalked and there was something odd behind the developing situation, Peter did not press him.

"Uh, yeah," The professor said, hesitantly. He frantically moved his left foot towards the apartment and away, trying to convince Peter to let him in without words. Peter, not convinced it was a good idea to let him in at the moment, did not respond to his silent plea. "May I…?" He said finally. There was some urgency in his voice.

Peter's stubbornness subsided the moment he remembered that Conners was the victim, or, at least as far as he knew. Peter stepped aside allowed his professor to come in his room. He turned to Conners as if the authority and gave him a look, which demanded answers. "So, what's this about, Dr. Conners?"

Conners smiled sheepishly and turned his head away from his pupil in shame. He whimpered a bit and hung his head towards Peter. His actions spoke volumes – he was scared, and legitimately Peter concluded. "Well, I-I," it was difficult for him to string words together. "I need to tell you something." Conners said this unnaturally firm, almost as if he was guilty of something. Peter's one eyebrow was roused. Was he going to come clean with Peter? "I h-haven't been real honest… And I need your help with something."

"Doc, I--" Peter said, slightly insulted. The only thing he could really do for his professor was supply a muscle for him. Going out as Spider-Man and capturing the culprit would be just what Dr. Conners would need to sleep at night. While Peter saw this as an opportunity to bring another villain to his knees, he had to be apprehensive so that he didn't end up in another situation like last time.

"Just let me explain…"

Years Ago

Doctor Curt Conners sat prodding what appeared to be a wris****ch with a pen, spouting sparks to mend the feeble metal together. He worked precariously, trying with some difficulty not to make a mistake, as he sat in his lab. Stark Enterprises accommodated Conners nicely – he had enough room to scatter things about, which suited him better than being organized.

Things were relatively quiet at the Stark facility, which Curt liked, too. Conners decided to stay overtime so that he could prepare the watch device for a customer that was growing impatient. He was lucky all who remained was the janitor, who did not suspect that he was selling what was supposed to be Stark property to a person he had only spoken to briefly on the phone. The person was desperately in need of the device and, in such circumstances, offered Conners a hefty paycheck, to which he could not refuse. So, here he was, finishing the watch so he could deliver it to his client tomorrow.

"Doctor Conners," A thick Russian voice expounded from the shadows of his door. It was undeniably chilling just to hear it; Conners hesitated to turn around and face the source.

Conners turned to see a slender man, not a day older than twenty, standing before him. Although he appeared frail, there was an odd presence that loomed over him like a storm cloud. He had sleek black hair and pigmy-sized scars running from his forehead to his right cheek. In between were two; beady black eyes that didn't make him appear anymore inviting. What was the most odd thing about his appearance, though, was his jet back suit with a slender white tie running down his chest. Could a twenty year old afford such an expensive look?

The slender man practically glided down the steps, much more snake-like than human. "My name is Dmitri Smerdyakov," he was unmistakably Russian now. "We spoke on the phone." There was poison in his words, something that intimidated Dr. Conners. "Do you have the cloaking device finished?"

Conners peered at the watch in his hand. Parts still hung about – the device was incomplete. "No, sir," Conners said, swallowing hard; he knew what kind of person he was dealing with. The fact that he needed a cloaking device was questionable; he should have suspected trouble from the beginning. "I-I'm just making sure it works right now. After tests and an evaluation, it should be finished with the next two to three days, Mr. Smerdeh--"

"Smerdyakov," Dmitri snapped, approaching Dr. Conners swiftly. "I need to get on a flight tomorrow morning, Dr. Conners. I trusted you to get the job done on time," Conners tried to defend his argument, but Dmitri put an authoritative hand in front of his face. "Is the cloak functional? Let me see…"

Dmitri snatched the watch from the counter with ease and pressed a button. He closed his eyes and concentrated for a minute and then a thousand miniscule squares seemed to consume him. In Dmitri's place stood a replica of Dr. Conners. It was odd, though; it was certainly Dr. Conners but, even in the brief second that the transformation had taken place, it was obvious Dmitri stood there, only appearing to be Curt's counterpart.

"It responds to thought," Dmitri smirked, as the second Conners. "Excellent. Thank you, Doctor." Dmitri pressed another button on the watch and returned to his original, threatening appearance. He began to walk to the door, but Conners could not allow him to do that.

Mustering enough strength to confront the criminal, Conners shot out of his seat and said, "I'll need to complete it first, Mr. Smerdyakov. It's not safe… I-It'll overheat if used profusely… It could be a fire hazard! Now, please, just--" Conners found his arm reaching out and grasping for the cloak.

Dmitri sneered, clenched his fist, and struck Conners in the face. Conners stooped, half in shock and in pain, trying to regain his senses. "You'll let me take the device with me, Dr. Conners. I need to leave the country tomorrow morning. You must understand."

Conners looked up at him and scowled. Partially because he was struck in the face and partially because he did not have the advantage in this situation, Conners replied with a stubborn grunt, this would be the biggest mistake of his life.

With both of his hands, Dmitri clutched one of Conners' arms. Releasing with one, he straightened it completely, fighting off Conners in the mean time and, when he was given the opportunity, snapped his arm with his elbow. Dmitri's elbow cut Conners like an axe; the arm was obviously broken. Conners yelped as it happened and, afterwards, cried profusely, not used to this sort of pain. To make matters worse, though, Dmitri pushed him to the ground and began brutalizing the one arm, saying, "Let this be a lesson for you, Dr. Conners. Don't cross me! I get what I want… When I want it!"

So, Dmitri Smerdyakov walked away, leaving Dr. Conners maimed. Conners was never paid for his efforts.

Presently

"…Turns out, the damage to my arm was so bad," Conners gulped. "The doctors had to take it off. The say I'm one of Dmitri's few victims that have actually come out alive."

Although Peter stood there stoically, his head was spinning. Conners, who he thought to be an honest scientist, turned out to be the same as Norman Osborn and Mendell Stromm. He was dealing with international criminals – Peter considered this far more criminal than industrial corruption. Peter could put that aside, though, since, through the trying experience, Conners had been victimized. Peter began to put the pieces together, where his help would be applied, and began to come to his senses.

"You've told the police all of this, right?" Peter said solemnly. He did not want to show Conners any ounce of concern in fear that, with emotions, he would be committing himself to aid Curt.

"Oh, of course," Conners said. "They've known since the first, er, incident." It was obvious Curt didn't like talking about it too much. "I-I just couldn't bring myself to do it in front of you today. You have to understand, Peter, this is my reputation we're talking about."

Peter could empathize. His reputation was torn apart at the seams, crippling his confidence but molding him into a more determined and capable person. The mistakes he was making were fuel to the fire; he was becoming a hero. Not that Conners was going to become what Peter now was, but Peter suspected that Conners wanted the problem resolved so that his reputation wouldn't be harmed. In this moment, Peter realized what his role was, however, did not know what precautions he had to take before jumping into the problem headfirst.

"So, what do you want me to do?" Peter said. He figured that if he could help apprehend a criminal the police long sought after, Peter could help not only Conners, but himself.

 

[WolviesWife]

I'm giving this "Shadow" arc a read tonight.

Thanks for posting it.

 

[Goodwill]

Hey, if you like it, be sure to read the rest of the series!

 

[Goodwill]

My apologies... This story arc is four issues, instead of what I said originally - three.

 

[Pandrio]

Good issue. Liked the DeWolff, Stark, and Chameleon intros. The letter was interesting, I was hoping it'd shown, instead of just read by the characters of the story. When I read it, I definitely wasn't thinking Chameleon, so hopefully you can write the character in a new light. I don't really like Dmitri ripping off Connors's arm, but it fit the story well enough. Overall, interesting and good. I think I'll wait untill the next chapter before I rate it though.

 

[Goodwill]

Thanks for getting to my issue!

I was a bit apprehensive about this arc, only because it may be too big of a stretch for the characters at this point... We really don't know Connors yet and Peter is only a young Spider-Man... Either way, the end result was what mattered, so I hope you'll stick around for the end!

 

[Goodwill]

I'll put the next issue up on Wednesday.

 

[Goodwill]

The next issue will be put up shortly... I'm really sorry if anyone missed this.

 

[Pandrio]

The next issue will be put up shortly... I'm really sorry if anyone missed this.

I was about to ask about it.

 

[Goodwill]

Spider-Man #12
A Shadow Part Three of Four

"Ouch!" Peter snarled.

"Calm down," Debra Whitman insisted as she injected a needle through two pieces of silky cloth. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you just stayed put."

It was an awkward scene at best. Peter Parker stood in the midst of Deb's cluttered apartment with his arms pointing outwards, his expression a marriage between stressfulness and fear. Meanwhile, Debra worked maniacally around Peter making improvements to the costume she had been asked to make. Tried as she might to avoid hurting Peter, Deb found it to be an impossible feat since Peter could not stand still for the life of him.

Peter shuffled ever so slightly to regain his balance on the soapbox on which he stood, earning him another needle in his side. "Man, if I get some kinda weird disease because of all this I'm comin' after you." Peter said, half annoyed, half sarcastic.

"Yeah, as if having the ability to shoot webs from your wrists aren't enough," Deb said, smirking at Peter seductively. She plucked the needle free from the thread and took a few steps back to see the costume as a whole.

Surprisingly, the costume was seamless. It fit around Peter's now muscular body gracefully and stood out proudly in the bland apartment. It was primarily red and blue, with black lines defining the more intricate parts of the suit. Peter certainly looked the part of a super hero now.

"Done," Deb said triumphantly.

Peter leapt from the soapbox and strutted around, scanning the costume for any error. "Perfect," he muttered when he could not find any. "This doesn't make me look like a ballerina, does it?" Peter was checking out his bottom and glancing at Deb, flirting.

"Kinda," She approached him slowly. "But you're the best-looking ballerina I've seen all day," Deb said fluttering towards Peter's face, hoping for a kiss. Peter returned the kiss with such feeling that they slowly backed away from each other.

"Thank you," Peter said lightly. "I had a good time tonight."

"Yeah, maybe next time we'll find a better movie," Deb said, pecking Peter on the lips again. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, I've gotta get going on that English paper," Peter said. Peter strutted towards the door.

"Are you wearing that home?" Deb asked.

"I figure I should break it in first," Peter said smiling. "Wouldn't want to tear the crotch out of it when I'm out doing my thing."

Debra laughed. "Goodnight, Peter."

Peter couldn't have left any happier. Now, whenever he was around Deb, the weight that had become so comfortable on his shoulders did not seem to exist. As he strolled along the campus under the moonlight, Peter could not help but feel like the luckiest man in the world. He thought he was maintaining his duel lives correctly and safely and, by now having a relationship with Deb, Peter thought he was moving along at the same pace everyone else was when he was drawn too much into his alter ego.

Unfortunately for Peter, Dr. Conners now only sought the help of Spider-Man.

He dashed along the campus towards Peter looking exhausted. Peter helped him, as Conners needed support to stay on his feet. It was lucky Peter was there or Curt would have likely passed out and been ignored for the rest of the night. It was late and certainly time for Peter to turn in for bed, but now that Conners had shown up, he could not.

"Peter," Conners panted, practically into Peter's shoulder. "So glad I found you… I came all the way from my sister-in-law's house from Queens—Wait, what are you wearing? Are you a, uh, ballerina or something?"

Peter sighed in frustration. Here he was reminded that he had such a good night with Deb and, at the same time, ushered to help his friend. "What is it, Doc?"

Conners backed off of Peter, trembling; he found his own footing and was now able to support himself. "Look," he said, unfolding a piece of parchment before Peter's eyes. "This is the address of Jean DeWulf, a New York City cop who has been asked to help the FBI in their attempts to catch Mister Smerdyakov. Could you swing on up to her and ask to see the file on the investigation? It would probably help you out, you know."

Peter's stomach churned. This was beginning to sound like a bad idea. At what expense was Dr. Conner's willing to exploit Peter's reputation as Spider-Man? "Doctor, I don't know about this… At first you didn't even want me using my powers, now you're asking me to knock on a police officer's door to see if I can just peruse through a report?" Peter's indignation was beginning to get the better of him.

"Peter," Dr. Conners said, almost pleading. "I never doubted for a second you would use your powers appropriately… I only hope you can deem this situation severe enough to use what God's given you to help. That's all I'm asking." Conners was wildly obsessed with redeeming his career, Peter was sure of it. Curt had driven himself mad over the fact that someone was out to kill him.

Peter's head was spinning, a feeling that had become too comfortable, even for a college student. The enigmatic Vulture had once mentioned to Peter that there was a game going on and that he was merely taking his turn. Was this Peter being introduced to the game? If the game was a taxing trial on how far Peter could be stretched, he was not prepared for it, no matter what precautions he took. Now that he was in, though, it was not like he would back away and try to ignore the fact; it wasn't something Uncle Ben would've approved of.

"I'll see what I can do…" Peter said solemnly. He turned and walked away from Conners, unable to say anything more to him. He had no choice but to pay DeWulf a visit before turning in.

* * *

Jean DeWulf occupied a modest apartment in a facility owned by Wilson Fisk, a corporate juggernaut in New York. Since she was so involved with her position, DeWulf did not have time to decorate her dwelling. Her priorities showed how devoted she was to protecting the city of New York.

She was throwing the ingredients to a protein shake when a loud thump beckoned from the other room. DeWulf grew alert and grabbed her gun from the kitchen table and gradually approached the living room in her apartment. There, at the window, she saw who she thought was Spider-Man knocking harshly on the window and, periodically after the knocks, waving at her to get her attention.

"Hey," Spider-Man beckoned in a muffled voice. "Can I have a word with you please?"

If it was possible, DeWulf could see through the mask and into Peter's innocent expression. She could tell Spider-Man didn't mean any harm since he was knocking as opposed to bursting through the window and violating her, only to run away soon after he was finished. For the life of her, she could not see how Spider-Man was as villainous as the papers were making him out to be.

So, she approached the window and opened it with the utmost courage given the situation. Jean sort of retreated as Spider-Man slinked in and took a seat on the windowsill. He was giving her such an odd look, even with the odd bug eye mask he wore.

"Ok," DeWulf said sternly. "What do you need?"

"Your help, of course," Peter said, almost sarcastically, however, he knew he had to watch his tone if he wanted to see the report.

DeWulf pondered slightly as she paced the room. "You want me to help you. Ok. Well, frankly, even if I wanted to, it would be suicide." At this point she had her hands firmly to her waste impatiently.

Peter hung his head a bit. His reputation was as bad as he thought it was, which made it worse. "I-I know," he said in desperation. "I'm just trying to do what you're doing…"

"How so? By trashing city blocks? By running with a bunch of mercenaries?" DeWulf was gradually growing more and more frustrated as she spoke, which translated into harshness. "You've got--"

"Mercenaries?"

"Yeah, those guys you were running with were paid to trash Stromm's lab. Wuh-wuh wait! You didn't know that?" DeWulf lost her patience at that point. "Those criminals were paid off by whatever crime lord is in charge right now to foil Stromm's success. There are all kinds of people like that and we can't do anything to stop them. It would take a--" DeWulf had come up with a solution to these problems faster than she could finish her sentence. She was going to say that the police were unable to do anything about all of the criminals in New York since all of the legalities and restraints. Here was a person that wanted to help but, in a lot of ways, could bend the rules.

"A guy dressed as a ballerina?" Peter asked, his sense of humor apparent.

"I was thinking you looked more like a SCUBA diver," Jean DeWulf noted. "You're missing the tutu." At last, Peter had cracked the statue-like DeWulf into smiling; he would have the file in no time. "I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm pretty confident I can trust you. After all, the guy you brought down first had a pretty good price on his head… You've gotta know what you're doing right?" She laughed dryly, not completely confident it was all right to trust a man in a costume. "What do you need me to do for you?"

Finally. "I need to see the file on Dmitri Smerdyakov."

Jean looked at the costumed man with searching eyes, hoping to get the reason why he needed the file. "Funny you should bring the guy up; I was just going to go over his information. The FBI want me to help, can you believe that?" She was becoming more comfortable with talking to Spider-Man after finding out that he wasn't a threat. DeWulf sacrificed a lot of friends and, when someone wasn't criminal, it was easy for her to trust a stranger. "Here you go, take a look."

DeWulf handed Peter the folder. Finally, he had been successful in looking at evidence and making amends with the police, who were responsible for turning him into the criminal he was publicly known as. He was proud of himself for being able to convince Jean so easily, too, but did not make it obvious.

"Is it ok if I borrow this?" Peter asked.

"I can't do that, no," Jean shrugged. "I would never be able to just hand over the actual folder to just some guy in a costume."

"You could make copies, though, right?" Peter said, optimistic.

"That could work," Jean smiled. "Come by tomorrow morning."

"It's a date," Peter said and, on that note, he left without saying another word to Jean DeWulf. He was far too tired to keep up the conversation. His work was done and he had accomplished what Dr. Conners had asked him.

* * *

Peter opted to stroll through the door casually as opposed to showing up in his apartment through the window to avoid complications with Harry; however, even though he wasn't there he would soon find something was the matter.

The moment he opened the door he saw his Aunt May standing with her palm to her forehead, fighting back tears. It was a struggle, too, since her veins in her neck were too obvious to be natural and her hair was strewn everywhere, something that she never let happen.

Peter approached her casually. "Aunt May?" he intrigued.

"Oh, Peter."

"What is it?" Peter rubbed her back assuring her tranquility. "What's wrong?"

"I-it's Harry," Aunt May said, now staring into Peter's eyes. There was a maddening look between the two of them. "He's been shot."

 

[Goodwill]

I'm going to write four issue, which will be my series' last... It will tie everything together.

 

[Pandrio]

I'll probably read all four together once the last one comes out.

 

[Goodwill]

Oh, man... I'm losing it here. My fan is leaving me.

 

[Goodwill]

I'll probably read all four together once the last one comes out.

Are you waiting until I wrap up this arc, too?

 

[Pandrio]

Are you waiting until I wrap up this arc, too?

Yeah, that's what I meant, when you finish the arc, I'll reread the first two and read the last two issues.

 

[Goodwill]

Ah, damn. My boy Pandrio is losing faith! I better pull this one up nicely, huh?

Next issue? Out this coming Wednesday!

 

[Goodwill]

Spider-Man #13
A Shadow Part Four of Four

Peter felt as if he was shot, too. It was alarming to see how fast his life was moving even without his involvement. Perhaps things changed so rapidly because Peter removed himself to become Spider-Man, but whatever the case, he was drawn back in when tragedy struck. Supposedly, Harry Osborn was walking home from some remedial studies and a person ran up to him totting a gun and shot him for the fifty-three dollars he pocketed. Peter couldn't help but feel frustrated, if he had these abilities to sense danger, why couldn't he have done something to prevent this crime? Dr. Conners, he convinced himself, was to blame for not allowing him to go home immediately after visiting Debra.

After Norman Osborn, his father, and Gwen Stacy, Harry's girlfriend, visited with him, it was Peter's turn. It was a tense situation for everyone – even Norman looked exhausted from having to deal with the anxiety of his son being shot. Peter, in all his life, could not remember a time when Mr. Osborn looked more pathetic. At least he was human. Also, Peter was pleased Gwen cared enough to show up and support her new boyfriend, despite how difficult it may be for her. May stood outside clutching one of the nurse's hands as Peter approached Harry in the room.

"How are you?" Peter asked Harry.

His condition was not spectacular, but for a bullet wound, Harry was in good shape. He looked like a person would at a retirement home when they were struggling for air from a respirator. Pale skin as white as the sheets he was draped in and sweating as profusely a cloud would. When he saw Peter he brightened a little, but the warm gleam in his eye soon subsided immediately after he breathed.

"I'm alive," Harry finally responded. "Just lucky to be alive…" His voice sounded distant; reasonably so, though, since he had been through so much.

"I wish I could have been here sooner, dude," Peter said. "I was over Deb's and--"

"Pete, you're good," Harry said. He breathed heavily, having an extreme amount of difficulty. "You do what you gotta do, ok? There's no possible way you could have been two places at once…"

At that point, Peter was so tempted to tell Harry he was Spider-Man, but did not. Harry was openly against Mutancy and would probably think of Peter differently if he did. Besides, Peter didn't want to attract more people like Beetle and Vulture towards him; he may endanger Harry, too.

"Y-you don't understand," Peter gasped. "I know I could've done something… Seriously, I--"

Harry snorted, but Peter recognized it as a chuckle. "Dude, it's ok. Don't blame yourself for this, seriously. You had nothing to do with it."

"Well, that's the problem, Harry!" Peter grew so animated it looked as if he bursted from the pages of a comic book. "I haven't been around to help you at all. What are best friends for, right? I've been nothing but a let down the entire time we've roomed together and now look at this! Look!"

"Take a seat Peter," Harry said. "I'm too tired to be yelled at right now…"

"I-I'm sorry, Harry, you know, I--"

"The real world's got us by the balls, Peter," Harry began. His heavy breathing continued, but still he continued to talk. "We're going in all sorts of different directions now. It's not like you and I were going to end up doing the same thing, right?" Harry snorted again, once again attempting a laugh. "Remember that time you tried to play bass? Terrible… Yeah, but it's like both of us are doing are on thing, but we're there for each other when the other guy's gonna head down a path leading to a dead end. Right? Pete, don't blame yourself; keep doing what you're doing."
Peter was glad his friendship with Harry was so profound that either of them would have sacrificed their life for the other. They were brothers and it seemed nothing could divide them. It was rare to have such intimacy, however, Peter and Harry achieved it with ease.

Peter hung his head. "You're right," he said. Now that Peter knew that Harry was going to be all right, he had to continue his search for Conners' stalker. "Ok, big guy, I gotta get going. Hang in there." Peter clasped his hand to Harry's and sealed his friendship once again before leaving. He was glad Harry was going to survive.

* * *

Captain Jean DeWulf was practically waiting at her windowsill for Spider-Man's arrival since he left the night before. She had the photocopy for him to examine and could not wait to see what the mutant could make of the information. In truth, Spider-Man, though enigmatic and untrustworthy, marveled DeWulf purely because his reputation did not capture the person she met at the window. Perhaps it was just her investigative habit, but she was drawn to Spider-Man unlike anyone she had met before.

At long last, Spider-Man did arrive, but not in the condition that Jean had anticipated. Although the costume pronounced his rigor and masculinity, DeWulf detected a fatigue and exhaustion throughout his body language and how his head was cocked.

"Long night?" She asked thoughtfully.

Peter couldn't help but smirk. There was Harry who would not know about Spider-Man and Jean who would not know about Peter. How he would love to tell either of them what was really going on, but the mask served as a shield as well as a fashion statement. "You could say that," Peter replied. "Have you got the information for me?"

"Right here," Jean said, handing him the folder. The moment he was given the information, Peter consumed each and every bit of the file. He would do his homework this time to avoid mistakes. "There are a number of identities we've seen him use before. It seems the device he uses is constrained a bit; it responds to his thoughts, but his thoughts have not changed dramatically. You see, although these people are different, they still have some of the same physical features. Notice the trail of scars on each of the identities face."

It was true; the identities were all similar. The primitiveness of the device Conners made for the international criminal worked to his own disadvantage, although it served it's purpose. Peter figured this was because Conners never actually got to refine the device so that it would not leave such noticeable features. Now, Peter was sure he would find the culprit within days.

As he perused the folder, he noticed many things. "Hey, check this out," Peter said, fingering a line that read 'occupation' in bold. "Julius Casper here works temps. The science wing at ESU takes temps all the time to get new shipments and stuff delivered. Could you look into that?"

Jean gave Spider-Man a look. It was obvious the police had never considered putting that together. "I'm sure it's something we could check out, but it's a stretch. Yeah, so I'll run it by the director of the FBI and see what we can come up with."

Peter left without saying another word to her. He just remembered Dr. Conners telling him a shipment of supplies was arriving today.

* * *

Doctor Curt Conners met the deliverymen inside of the science facility, named after Reed Richards. He told the authorities that he could not hide from his predator in fear that he may exhibit some sort of weakness that he could feed off of. Despite Conners' apparent fear, he was a very strong man in the given situation.

Julius Casper approached Curt with a clipboard and a forced smile. "Sir, all we need you to do is sign off on these boxes and we'll be out of your way." He was a very slender man with peculiar facial hair concealing a collection of scars.

Curt Conners looked at the clipboard in horror. Instead of a notice in which he was supposed to sign, it was a paper that read, "You're not too good at listening are you?" It was a cryptic message in itself, however, what made it worse was that it appeared to be written in blood. Conners dropped the clipboard in shock and found it difficult to catch his breath as he starred coldly into Casper's eyes.

Just as soon as Casper returned the cold stare, he began his transformation into the brutal, yet feeble, man known as Dmitri Smerdyakov. His thick black hair was still greased back as it was years ago and wore a similar white suit the day Conners remembered so vividly. The only difference now was that he wasn't speaking and he wielded a seven-inch carving knife in front of Curt Conners. How threatening he was just by standing there was beyond Curt's comprehension at that point.

"If it's one thing I don't like it's someone that crosses me." Dmitri said, slinking towards Conners with the edge of the knife cutting through the space between himself and the Professor. "If it's one thing that I do like it's seeing those who cross me get what they had comin' to 'um…" Dmitri slipped the knife into Conners' stomach with ease. Blood spouted from the opening in Curt's abdomen and Smerdyakov kept the knife their, almost as if he was not convinced the knife broke his skin.

"Woah!" A voice rang out from above. "Did I just stumble into a cheap slasher movie or something? That was about the cheesiest line ever… And here I thought you international serial killers were smart!" It was Spider-Man perched on the roof above them; he must have snuck in through one of the ceiling panels since there was one tipped off its holster. Peter cradled himself down to the ground so he could gain his footing and size himself up to Smerdyakov. Surprisingly, Peter looked significantly more masculine than him. Peter looked back at Conners who was practically spouting blood and said, "Ah, great… Could you hold on a sec, Doc? I just need time…"

Perhaps it was Peter's realization that the opportunity to save both his and Conners' reputations that made him nervous. Regardless, as he stood between the Professor and the international criminal, who was shrinking more and more as Spider-Man stood there indifferently by his presence, the power to strike boiled into his fists. When he first threw a punch, Dmitri flew into the glass door feet away from where Peter anticipated he would land.

It was obvious Dmitri had been in a situation like this before because, although odds were against him, he was still convinced he had the advantage – the cloaking device. Struggling to amass enough strength to get to his knees, Dmitri found that it was hard to stand, although it was possible. At long last he finally did so and began for the door to the street, blending into the crowd spontaneously.

Peter had a difficult time catching his breath. He had made another mistake; this time, though, he would not allow himself to go uncorrected. He did not recognize that he was wearing his costume, but he sprinted out into the crowd, as if to blend in enough to find the Chameleon, as Peter had named him as he made his exit.

The crowd created a circle around Spider-Man, goggling at the odd appearance, much to Peter's dismay. Peter looked around frenetically, hoping to catch a glimpse of something that would lead him in the right direction for catching Dmitri. Then, Peter, in the moment that he turned his head thought he saw a ponytail grow onto a man's head in mere seconds. It was the cloaking device still in progress. Peter dashed through the people, not minding who he knocked over, and shot a web at the ponytail.

The man fell flat, revealing the trail of scars that lead from the man's cheek to his forehead. Peter was overwhelmed with success. He had captured an international terrorist and in front of a large group of people, no less. Now, all he would have to do is let the rest of the world know he accomplished something spectacular. But how?

* * *

Jean DeWulf struggled to get through the crowd to the streetlight she had heard so much about. In all her years as a police officer for New York, although few, she had never seen such an amazing sight. On the streetlight there was a spider's web large enough for her to crawl on and as intricate as a Faberge egg. Wound in the center was Dmitri Smerdyakov unconscious. She was so excited to see that she had a hand in capturing the villain, however, no one would ever know. Spider-Man was still deemed a vigilante, but with a straightened edge. It was odd; people seemingly recognized Spider-Man as a hero now, but they could not seem to let go of the concept of hiding behind a mask. DeWulf did not care; at least someone was doing something.

As she examined the web more there was a paper lodged in between Dmitri and the web. Jean yanked it out with ease and read, "Your welcome from your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man." Jean couldn't help but laugh.

Things were beginning to look bright for Spider-Man; however, Peter Parker seemed to have a lot on his plate.

 

[Victor Von Doom]

So I jut finished reading all of these......really good job. Probably one of my favorite fanfics on the site.

I know this isn't the most descriptive review...but it's 3:45 in the morning and it's all I got in me right now.

 

[Goodwill]

Thank you, thank you, thank you! I don't mind that it was only a sentence-long review, I just respect that you got around to reading my stuff... Good stuff, man.

Honestly, I'm trying to work out an arc or two where I can wrap up the loose ends that I've set up. For instance, the identity of the Green Goblin and who shot Harry are two things that I've been playing around with... And, if I was a reader, I'd wanna know what was going on. Right? Well, with the help of Gwen Stacy, I think Peter will be able to crack all of these mysteries. I'm preparing for... SPIDER-MAN: THE END.

 

[Gamma Man]

My Spider-Man story has NOTHING on this!:shock: By the way, it is called: Excellent Spider-Man.

 

[ProjectX2]

My Spider-Man story has NOTHING on this!:shock: By the way, it is called: Excellent Spider-Man.

I'm pretty sure you just posted this to plug your story...

 

[SSJmole]

I'm pretty sure you just posted this to plug your story...

Damn I hate when people do that.

You never see me plug my story Spider-man A new beginning out now in the Fan Fic & Art section of this form

 

[SSJmole]

^ note that was not a plug but was ment only as a joke.





But seriously Goodwill I love spider--man and i think you're fan fic is great. I love it. I'll admit I dont read much fan fic on here as I write some and down want to get other peoples ideas.

but i read yours and have to say i loved it dude. I already bookmarked it so I can re-read it when I want.

thanks for posting it.