Star Wars... Nothing but Star Wars... Peter Parker starts to whistle and watch the night sky flash by. He lies on his back on top of a subway car as it races forth through the suburbs. God I love Bill Murray. Peter smirks as he presses tighter onto the roof of the train-car. These gloves are Awesome! The barbs are holding up really well! His gloves are adorned with ultra durable micro-fiber barbs that allow him to stick and climb on any surface. The subway car takes a quick turn and Peter has to adjust his grip again. He starts to think about his parents again. Osborn knows more about my parents death then he's really letting on. I'm counting on it. Peter flips over and looks ahead of him. He adjusts his goggles and targets the subway underground transition coming in a few stops. This looks like my stop. He aims at a building nearby and uses webbing that he shoots from his wrists with a trigger on the lower palm of his hand. Then, up he goes. Sailing silently into the night. Training for twenty years really pays off. I was down right stealthy! He smiles under the mask. This feels INCREDIBLE!
Peter swings up and onto the ledge of the Daily Bugle. He looks around and makes sure he's safe. No camera's detected. Peter presses a button on the side of his goggles and lifts them up off his face. He pulls his hoodie back and lets the cool night air hit his face. Let's see... twenty-seven blocks to Oscorp. Peter looks down at his wrist. The webbing attachments look really sleek. He can't help but feel guilty about liking them. He turns his hand over and looks at the bottom of his wrist. A white vial still has 3/4ths of a charge left. Nice. This should get me there. Just need to refuel when I arrive. Peter puts his goggles back on and presses that same button again. The display inside shows the distance from this building to the next one and a map of the surrounding area. Mr. Reilly did a great job with these too. This feel's great. This feels right. Peter puts his black hood up and pulls his maroon mask back up over his nose. He rears back and leaps off the top of the building. Then webs off in the direction of Oscorp.
When Peter arrives at Oscorp he sees two lights on near the penthouse. That's Doctor "Flash" Thompson's office. What the hell is he still doing here. Peter swings onto a darkened balcony and checks his web cartridges again. Near empty. The time in his goggle display says eleven forty-one. He cranes his neck up the steep building. Why is he here at 11:41? Peter uses his goggles to target the top of the building. The display on the inside says three-hundred feet. Piece of cake! Let's really test out these barbs. He looks over the ledge of the balcony and sees he is only ten stories up or so. He shrugs and tests his grip on the side of the building. Here we go. The grip is surprisingly good. Quickly Peter begins crawling up the side of the building. I feel like Batman in that old show.
Peter climbs up five of the thirty stories before getting a bit tired. I gotta do something about this. My knees are burning! He shakes his arms out and keeps going another three stories when he notices a light come on the floor above him. Peter climbs up to the light and peeks in the nearest window. Peter is looking into an office kitchen area. A small fridge is set up with a microwave attached on top of it. There's a counter and a coffee maker too. Doctor Octavius rolls into the kitchen on an office chair. He looks bored. What an ass. Peter thinks as Octavius goes through the fridge sniffing though other people's food. Doctor Thompson comes into the kitchen area too. The two start arguing. I bet that was 'Flash's' food. Now the two start laughing. What the hell? Flash holds two files that look just like the file that Doctor Osborn had on his desk earlier. Peter zooms in with his goggles and sees that 'Flash' is holding a file that says '..ARKER' That's my file! Why does 'Flash' Thompson have my file! What are they laughing about! Doctor Octavius microwaves a sandwich and two Hot Pockets then the two walk out. Peter looks up the bulidng. Two-Hundred Thirty Feet. He aims his right arm up at the top of the building and depresses his web it shoots up and attaches. One. Peter counts and controls his breathing then releases his left arm. Two. Peter tries to shoot web from his second slinger and it doesn't shoot. He looks at his wrist in wonder. It must be gummed up. He relieves the pressure on his arms with his boots on the side of the building and checks the sprayer. It appears to be gummed up. Peter groans and starts biting at the nozzle. At least it's non-toxic.
A large spotlight illuminates Peter on the side of the building while he hangs there. He freezes. His goggles instantly compensate for the light and he can see two police cars a hundred feet below him. "Crap!" Peter blurts out. He starts working on his nozzle again and successfully gets the gunk off. He spits it out into the night. "THIS IS THE NYPD. STAY WHERE YOU ARE. WE ARE SENDING SOMEONE UP." a voice on a loud speaker screeches down on the street. Peter groans and shoots webbing from his left hand at the building across from him. It attaches perfectly on the abandoned hotel. He lifts his boots off of the building and starts swinging over. To his surprise the webbing on his left shooter is weaker than the last batch. He swings far too low. NO! Peter flings his right arm out and shoots web onto the same building but it's too late. He crashes through a window and goes rolling down a hotel hallway. Then crashes into a wall. The lights are off. There isn't any noise aside from the blare of the police sirens. His whole body hurts. Tears well up in his eyes.
What was that? Peter opens his eyes. He is unsure if he lost consciousness. Some sort of explosion or something from downstairs. Probably the cops. Peter stands up quickly and looks down over the pony wall. It makes him feel un-easy. He notices flashlights from downstairs. "Where are the lights?" Someone asks. "Get the lights!" Another commands. Peter stumbles backward into the hallway. Still pretty stealthy. Peter limps into the hallway he crashed in though. He pulls his goggles up and his mask down. He starts trying doors and finds them all to be locked. "NYPD!" a voice yells. "We just want to help!" Peter finds the last door unlocked. He takes a quick look out of the destroyed window he crashed through and ducks into the room just as a flashlight shines down the hallway.
Peter falls into a corner of the room. Trapped. He feels dizzy. I don't think I have a concussion. My body feels like it's on fire. I have to fight the pain off. I am stronger than the pain. He sits in the corner and watches the door. What was I thinking! I have to get a police scanner or something in here. He sees the shadows of someones feet. The pain is unbearable. ARRRGHHH!!! Peter lifts his right arm up and shoots webbing at the door sealing it shut somewhat. The door handle jiggles and he starts to sweat. Just go away. Someone tries to shake the door but it doesn't really budge the webbing holds."This is Officer Stacy with the NYPD. If you're up here I want to get you help!" A voice calls out from the hallway. "Are you injured? Can you answer me?" Peter actually considers turning himself in. I could just step right out there and they would take me to a hospital. "I want to help!" Peter keeps quiet. "You have a death wish or something?" Peter's breathing is quick and he is sure the officer outside could hear it. He holds a weary hand over his mouth and listens. "I have reason to believe you are incapacitated due to your injuries." Footsepts move down the hallway and then a loud crash. He's kicking the door's down! Peter gets to his feet and stumbles to the door. "Hello! Son!" This is bad, man this is bad. Peter thinks and sighs. He leans against the wall near the door then starts ripping the webbing off of the door. I'm going away! First night out! Then he notices the dumb-waiter. Hello!
Crash! Another door kicked down. Crash! Then one right after that. You can do this. Peter closes his eyes and twists his body. Loud popping is heard coming from his back. He winces in pain but staves it off. Here we go! Peter checks the vials on his wrist and changes them out. He frowns when he notices that all of them are damaged except for one. Quickly he loads it into his left wrist. The right wrist has a half a charge on it. He checks his pocket. Subway fare. Peter shoots his webs to the top of the shaft and checks the webs. They seem strong. I can't have these things fail again. Crash! Another door. Peter lowers himself easily into the basement.
Various office products are down here. A few Slurpee cups and other articles of litter. The police are busy upstairs. They won't even check the basement until they check those rooms. Peter notices some blankets balled up in the corner and a couple of concrete stairs leading to what looks like a service entrance. Without thinking Peter grabs a blanket and wraps it over him. He runs to the service entrance door and opens it a crack. He checks outside with one eye and sees that no one is about. A concrete stairway runs up to an alleyway. Peter leaves the building and goes into the alleyway. The air is chilly and it makes Peter shiver. He can feel his lower lip swelling up and his right cheek and eye were very sore. How am I going to explain this? Peter starts walking out to the road. He sees four police cars now with their lights on and sirens off outside of Oscorp. They are checking out the abandoned hotel that Peter just came out of. Peter turns and starts limping off down the street. I have some work to do.
To be continued....
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