The Green Goblin
For several seconds, I can’t see. I can’t think. My vision is black. My entire body aches, parts of me burning with pain. And maybe with actual fire, I can’t tell. But all that goes through my mind is:
What the hell?
When my vision finally clears, I’m staring at the ceiling of Norman Osborn’s office. A high-pitched ringing fills my ears. I rest against the door to his office. I wince as I try to move. Distantly I hear voices calling for me from the other side of the door. I think I recognize Mr. Stark and MJ.
Groaning, I raise myself onto my elbows.
“Ah, so you’re still alive. That’s impressive.” A voice comes to me as if through a tunnel.
Lightning fast, I turn to see Norman Osborn standing over me. He has a wicked smirk on his face. I freeze at the sight of him. The man who killed my parents.
How did I not see it before?
I bare my teeth at him, just to let him know I feel. His smirk just grows. He leans down and grabs the front of my shirt, lifting me up off the floor to stare at him. My feet dangle off the ground as he grips me. My whole body screams in protest, and maybe I scream too. I still can’t hear very well.
Then Mr. Osborn tosses me towards the door. I crash into it, letting out another cry.
“Peter!” I hear someone yell from the other side. Mr. Rogers this time.
I’m okay, I want to tell him. But I’m not. I’m hurting and crying, and everything burns. I can still barely see.
Enough to see Mr. Osborn pull another bomb from his weird utility belt.
“Oh, well,” he says. I think my hearing is coming back, because I can hear him perfectly. “This’ll finish you off.”
My spider-sense screams at me, and I manage to get my body to move. I duck out of the way of the blast. I’m thrown forwards however, slamming against the doors once again. Damn, what are these things made out of? Something indestructible obviously.
I lay against the floor now, my back burning. I raise myself to my hands and knees, coughing. That’s not a good sign.
“You just don’t die easy, do you?” Mr. Osborn says.
Finally, I stand and face him. My limbs shake as I say, “It’s…it’s gonna take more than you’ve got to get rid of me.”
“Cocky one, aren’t you?” He narrows his eyes. “Well, I’ll soon fix that.”
“We’ll see,” I say between coughs. God, this isn’t looking good. I can barely stand. This guy has never looked healthier. Well, except for that fact that his eye is twitching, and he’s got a crazed grin. He just looks insane. Which only makes me shiver harder.
Mr. Osborn sneers. “What can a kid do against me?”
He stalks forward, hand outstretched. Without warning, he grabs the front of my shirt again. This time though, he doesn’t toss me toward the indestructible doors.
No. This time he throws me at the windows.
I scream as I hit the windows. They instantly shatter under my weight.
Before I know it, I’m outside in the cold New York air. Then…I’m falling.
I’ve never fallen from this height before. Well, except for when the Vulture dropped me. But right now I’m falling from a freaking sky scraper. Without my suit.
I yell as I fly through the air, hands over my ears. As if that’ll help me. Nothing can help me now. I’m about to die and I don’t have my suit. I don’t have my—
My webshooters.
I slam my wrists together, the bracelets I always keep on morphing into webshooters. I shoot a web towards the building. As soon as it hits, I arc my fall so I’m no longer falling down, but sideways. I fly towards the building until I hit it, letting my fingers and feet stick to the surface.
For several seconds, I sit there, panting. The wind bites at my face, but I don’t care. I’m alive. I’m actually alive.
But there’s still a bad guy to take down. I don’t have time to hesitate here.
Gritting my teeth, I begin my climb up the building. I climb towards the window I just fell out of. It doesn’t take long to reach it, and soon I’m climbing through the broken glass back into the office.
The place looks like a hurricane came through it. Papers are scattered all around, and a bookcase has fallen over, its contents littering the floor. There are burn marks from the bombs, and some of the wood paneling is…actually on fire. The desk is burning up.
And there stands Mr. Osborn, staring at me like I’ve just come back from the dead.
“How?” he spits out. “You should be dead.”
Panting, I rise to my feet. I grip my hands into fists. When I do, his eyes go to my wrists. His eyes widen.
Then he starts laughing.
He laughs long and hard. This guy’s gotta be insane. He bends over, placing a hand on his side.
“Oh, that’s just rich,” he says when he finally calms down. “Peter Parker, the city’s protector. The one and only Spider-man.” He takes a step toward me. “That just makes this all the sweeter.”
Before he can do anything, I web the nearest bookcase and fling it at him with all the strength I have left.
He shouts, falling down to his knees. Wood and books clatter around him, some catching on fire from the desk.
He looks at me and growls. I shudder.
“You little bastard,” he says in a low voice. “You think you can take me down?”
“I’m gonna try,” I say, lowering myself into a defensive stance.
He just raises his eyebrows. “Well,” he says. “You’re certainly much harder to kill than they were. Then again, I suppose they were defenseless.”
“What?”
“Your parents, you imbecile.”
I freeze. My fists begin shaking. That’s right. This man killed my parents. “How could you?” I say, voice quivering as bad as my body. “They trusted you.”
He grins and shrugs. “They were in my way.”
“In your way?” I say, voice laced with a growl. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Them and their research. Don’t you see, it’s weaponizable. Imagine what perfect soldiers we could make with the strength of the animal kingdom.” He rises to his feet, gesturing wildly with his hands. “A man as fast as a cheetah, as strong as a lion, with the regenerative abilities of a lizard. Could you imagine?” His smile grows wider. And then it dawns on me.
“You never wanted it for the soldiers,” I say softly. “You just wanted it for yourself.”
His eyes widen and he bares his teeth. “Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, child.”
“Peter!” A voice suddenly comes from behind the door. Mr. Stark! I straighten at the sound of his voice. “What’s happening in there?”
“I’m handling it,” I shout back.
“Oh, are your friends here?” Osborn says in a mocking tone. “I’m sure I’ll get rid of them just as easily as your—”
“If you say my parents one more time, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” he says. “Kill me? Oh, please. We both know you don’t have it in you. You’re too much of a coward.”
My breath comes out of me in bursts. I stand on the balls of my feet, ready to spring. Because this man took everything from me. My parents. A normal life.
“I don’t have to answer to you,” I say. “But you’re going to pay for what you did to my mom and dad.”
“Oh, really?” he says with a lopsided grin. “Why do you bother to avenge them? They were nothing.”
Suddenly my vision tunnels. I bare my teeth, and a guttural growl comes out of my mouth.
Before I can stop myself, I web his chest, then yank him towards me. I spin around, taking him with me. Then I release him. Right into the doors.
His weight combined with my strength shatters them.
He lands on his back amid the pieces of the doors. He groans in pain, but I can’t hear it. All I can hear is my blood pounding in my ears. The voices of my parents in the memories that B.A.R.F. showed me. The parents who should be here now, but aren’t, because of this monster.
“Peter!” MJ’s voice comes to me as if through water. I can see her now, staring at me with wide eyes. I can see all of them, everyone from Steve to Bucky to Mr. Stark. The sound of MJ’s voice briefly cuts through the fog of my fury. But only for a moment. Because Osborn looks up at me, and my vision focuses on him.
“You think your little friends can get rid of me?” he says. He coughs.
“I think we can take you,” Mr. Stark says, holding up a repulsor glove. He aims it right at Osborn’s chest. Steve holds up his shield, and Bucky raises a fist. MJ and Ned stand back, holding onto the wall behind them for comfort.
“You know…funny thing about bombs,” Osborn says. “You can fill them with all sorts of things. Like smoke.”
Mr. Stark yells for everyone to get back, and Osborn removes a bomb from his belt. He throws it to the ground. Smoke fills the room before anyone can move.
NO, my mind screams at me. Don’t let him escape!
But I can’t see a thing. Smoke fills every bit of my vision, getting into my mouth and nose and making me cough. No, I think furiously. I can’t let this happen. But I can’t see. How the hell am I supposed to catch him?
Then I catch a whiff of something. Sweat. Fear. A jolt of understanding rushes through me. I have enhanced senses. Duh, I can catch him without needing to see. I take a step forward, following the scent. I follow it, walking faster and faster. I hit a wall, but turn and continue down what must be the hallway. The smoke is beginning to clear here, so far from the original bomb.
Then I see it. A flicker of a shadow.
Without another thought, I shoot a web at it and drag it towards me. Before I know it, I’m face to face with Norman Osborn once again.
“Guys!” I shout. “I caught him!”
I don’t wait for Mr. Stark’s affirmation before lifting Osborn up by the collar to stare at his widening eyes.
“You killed my parents,” I say through gritted teeth. “You took everything from me. My family. My life.”
“Peter,” someone says behind me. I turn and see…MJ? Her eyes are wide and red, and she stares at me in confusion. “What are you doing?”
I look back to Osborn. He smirks. I look back to MJ. Then back to Osborn. What am I doing? Am I going to kill him? Is that who I am now?
Osborn laughs, long and loud. As the smoke clears, the other Avengers appear beside me. I realize we’re in the wide atrium area of Osborn’s offices.
“Come on, Peter,” Mr. Stark says behind me. “Let’s bring him in.”
Shaking, I nod. I release Osborn before I can do anything else that I might regret.
That’s when Osborn touches two switches on his wrists. I frown. But I don’t act soon enough. A knife comes out of one wrist. Flame begins shooting out of the other, in a wide circle that surrounds Osborn and me. Separating me from the others. Then the knife comes in and stabs me in the stomach.