Chapter 8: Not you!
12 HOURS EARLIER - ARENA OFFICES
Inside the administrative office, upstairs of the arena. Reiss was putting a single hundred dollar bill into Peter's palm still waiting for more money to come his way he patiently waited.
"Now get outta here. I want to see you in here Thursday we are going to work on your image." Reiss said counting the other notes in neat order. Peter had met this man a few days after he learned he had powers. At the time Reiss was a cab driver. Out of luck, Reiss had caught Peter flipping in a back alleyway while Peter had been practicing. Reiss was part of the reason he had decided to do the wrestling competition.
"A hundred bucks? You said three thousand!" Peter didn't normally raise his voice, he always had loads of patience. How else would he be able to work for a greedy person like JJ? But he figured that now that he had powers things would go easier for him. Now he was being used again...
Yeah... but you fought for what... fifteen minutes? Do you know how long I've had to work to even get you here? Yes, you get a hundred, and you're lucky to get that. Now see you here this time on Thursday.
"I don't understand, if it was not for me you wouldn't have gotten anyth..."
Look, Kid, why is this my problem. Do you want money? You have to work for it! Now! See you next Thursday!" Reiss yelled.
Staring at him for a long moment, Peter burned with rage. All the good feelings from earlier had burned away, he wanted to punch this guy right in the nose. He was so angry he was trembling, his hands curled into fists, he could've put him right through the wall if he wanted to... but thinking better of it he turned away and left instead.
Peter walked away down the corridor, clutching the lousy hundred dollar bill, muttering under his breath. Peter was so tired of being the good guy. Nobody respected a 'good guy' none of the girls love the 'good guy'... Peter didn't want to be a good guy anymore! He was near to the elevator door when he hears a shout from behind him.
"Hey! What the hell do you... AH!"
At the commotion Peter turned around, it was Reiss's voice, he watched as two silhouettes moved violently in the frosted glass window in the door to the administrative offices. Reiss's shadow was thrown violently against the door. The door flew open and Reiss's body tumbles out as the frosted glass shattered, and a guy races out. He had a dingy blond hair and an unshaven face, he was clutching a canvas bag.
"Help! Guard! He's got my money!"
A guard in uniform ran in from the stage floor by the way he looked he might have been an actual NYPD officer.
Almost completely unnoticed by Peter the elevator doors had started to open. The officer chases closely, calling ahead to for Peter to block the door.
"Hey, you! Stop that guy!" Peter looked up, as the thief races past him. Peter debates about it for a moment. It wouldn't take much to stop this guy... but then he thinks 'What is the difference between Riess and this thief?... Nothing!' So making a quick decision Peter took a step back clearing a path for the guy to go through. The Thief races past him and into the elevator.
"Thanks, freak." The thief said as the doors closed. Peter immediately felt a sour feeling in his gut as he watched the dilated blue eyes of the thief. He was obviously high and making rash decisions, he tried to tell himself this guy will probably be caught in the next few hours. No harm no foul, but a feeling of dread had started to live in the pit of his stomach.
"What the hell's the matter with you?! All you had to do was knock him down!" Reiss said coming rushing up behind him. A large red welt growing on his cheek.
"The way I see it, Reiss. That-" Peter said pointing at the closed elevator, "Was justice."
PRESENT TIME
"Uncle Ben!!" Peter lunged forward, but a few cops stopped him.
"Hang on, hang on!" One of the Cops was telling him.
"My Uncle! That's my uncle!" Peter was standing on the sidewalk outside of his aunt and uncle's house. He had received a call from May earlier, her words were garbled and unclear but he got some of the situations. Ben was hurt.
"Do you think acting like that is gonna help him?" One of the cops told him while holding him back. "Let the paramedics do their work!"
Attempting to calm down Peter asked, "What happened?!"
"It was a burglary. He's been shot in the chest."
"Oh, God, no!" Frantic, Peter looked at the Paramedics. "They're not giving CPR," Peter murmured.
No mouth to mouth, in fact, they're packing up their equipment. "They're not doing anything! Why aren't you doing anything?!"
Bursting away from the cops Peter approached them, "What's the matter with you?! Is he okay? Is he gonna be okay? Why are you stopping?!"
The Paramedics look at each other, then at Peter. "He passed away, sir" The words hit him like a ton of bricks his vision started to become blotchy like his world was fading away.
"No! He.... can't be!" He heard a voice coming from the doorway of his guardian's home… Aunt May.
"I'm sorry, sir, ma'am." May backs away in horror, unable to believe her eyes.
"Aunt May!" Peter cried running to catch her falling form. "It's going to be ok…" Peter said bringing her into the house and setting her on the couch as tears ran down her cheeks.
She was losing consciousness, calling one of the paramedics inside to give her a quick check-up when he caught a conversation happening on the front lawn.
Another officer comes hurrying up to the first two on the scene.
"Hey, it just came over the radio! Patrol car spotted the vehicle running a red light on Ninth Avenue!"
"They got the guy?!"
"Not yet! He crashed his car at the waterfront- he's holed up inside an abandoned factory at the river!"
Peter was very close to them now. Listening intently, his face hard as stone.
"Which river?" he said determination in his voice.
15 MINUTES LATER
Hudson River, a ring of police cars surround an abandoned factory. An old Chevy impala was crashed into a dumpster, the driver side door was hanging open. Police radios rasped unintelligible noise, a group of police clusters formed a barricade around the building. NYPD was making a plan on how to go in and how to take the murderer down. Behind and above them, a glistening dark figure jumped through the night unseen by the busy police.
On the dark side of the factory wall, Spider-Man perched silently. His movements were flawless, graceful, and economical now as if he has become his perfected self in the last fifteen minutes. He crawled up silently, smoothly yet very quickly. Nearing a blown-out window near the roofline he slipped inside the old factory.
Crawling upside-down, across the roof of the factory Peter's eyes scan the abandoned building's floor below. Spotting his prey in the far corner, a large figure huddles, his form encased in darkness, he attempted to hide in the middle of some rusted equipment.
Creeping close, maintaining a fast yet silent pace, until Peter was directly above the hidden man.
Looking down at him, Peter still couldn't make out any features of the man that ended the life of the only father he had ever known.
Cowering, the man mutters to himself, "Damned freaks… I'll show them… Get out of my mind!" He obsessively checked his weapon to make sure it was loaded. He kept murmuring unable to make out any more words he was saying, but the man was terrified.
Red police lights reflected off of him, bouncing around the empty factory as they strobe through the dirty, leaded windows, revealing only his outline.
Behind him, Spider-Man descends slowly, upside-down, from a web strand. He rotates, lands softly on his feet, looming behind the criminal. Sensing something the man whirls around. Shooting wildly the man nearly unloads his weapon at the wall-crawler.
Sensing danger, Spidey leaped onto the nearest wall. The criminal continues to blast at him, one shot after another, as Spidey leaps from wall to ceiling to wall to floor, the shots mear inches from him.
Hearing the shots, the police press forward disregarding their plans. With weapons drawn, rifles steadied. They can see figures moving inside the factory.
Spider-Man does one particularly acrobatic leap and lands on top of the criminal's arm, kicking the gun-free. It skitters across the cement floor as Spidey holds the guy up, curling a fist-
"This is for the man you killed." The blow lifts him right off his feet and sends the criminal sailing into one of the unbroken windows, shattering it. Spider-Man leaps into the window frame grab the man, pulls him to his feet.
"Don't hurt me! Man, give me a chance!"
"Like the chance you have him?" Peter whispers at the begging criminal. "THE MAN YOU KILLED?! DID YOU?! ANSWER ME!" One by one, the spotlights from outside swing around to frame the pair of combatants in the window.
Suddenly, the criminal's face is revealed, brightly lit. Police helicopters overhead, the prop wash blows the Carjacker's hair around wildly. His dirty blonde hair... Spider-Man's eyes open wide in horror as he recognizes the criminal. It is, God help him, the Thief who stole the money at the arena. The one Peter stepped aside for.
"No! No, not you! Yes." Spider-Man trembled in horror as he realizes the ghastly truth... He failed to stop the very man who murdered his uncle.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone