Peter Parker and Meredith Stacy (A Spider Man Story)

Part 2: The Determination of Revenge

The car ride is long as I'm travelling down from the traffic-filled roads of New York, over to the quieter neighborhoods, never keeping my eyes off of the small but fast flying Spider-man above the buildings. But before getting in the car, I had decided to call my brother first.

"We're from the police department. We've got this place surrounded." Said the officers that had begun surrounding the Library building at the time. The phone call had lead to voice mail after numerous rings.

"Nate, are you okay? You weren't anywhere near the Library, were you? Never mind. Just stay home." I had felt like our mother... "Uh..." I wanted to add something less suspicious, but I thought of nothing. "Okay. Bye." Was what I ended with.

Now, I stand at a closed—or abandoned?—Carnival, and notice the dusk state of the sky for the first time.

There is no one in the Carnival but an old gent who appears to be reading a newspaper. I pause at the gate, the greenery is already charcoal and two-dimensional and the grey path is melting into the night. I shiver despite the humid air at the sight of the closed, abandoned looking park. For what used to be a festival filled with laughter and joyous families, a place where you would pay money to go, now looks like the set of a horror film when it's silent at dusk. But that man, just sitting there, how can he even see the print on his paper? I resolve to walk quickly; the cheap black runners I'd bought moves quietly over the tarmac until I step on a twig or dried leaf left over from fall. It's almost dark and the air is humid, which somehow exerts repulsion on me, especially with the yellow lights that subtly illuminates the area with an eerie atmosphere. The sounds of rusty metal that clashes together against the wind is haunting. The scenic view and the feel of an empty, closed Carnival no doubt sends off an omnibus vibe. Without letting my imagination go anywhere in that department, I keep it focused on the sound of either Spider-man or the Goblin.

I don't want to stare but my eyes repeatedly flicks to the man, so still, so decrepit... until the menacing laughter of the Goblin echoes from the building far back, and the expression of the man's face looks like pure terror before he scatters off. And as he runs, so do I, although toward the danger rather than away. Oh, the irony. The sounds of that unpleasant, devilish voice had come straight from the brown, bricked tower that is bearing an oversized, defective clock at the top of it. Walking silently into the big, bricked tower, I stop beside the two doors that lead inside a stage room. I hear it. He is... talking to himself, but his voice sounds different as you can easily distinguish which is the Goblin's and which is Norman Orsbor—Holy shit! It is Dr. Osborn. I lean in closer to the door, intrigued to hear. Another side of my mind is thinking; where is Peter?

"Hundreds of people - you killed them!" cries Norman Osborn.

"We killed them!" hisses the Goblin.

"We?"

"Remember? Your little "accident" in the laboratory...?"

"The performance enhancers..."

"Bingo. Me! Your greatest creation. Bringing you what you've always wanted: power beyond your wildest dreams and it's only the beginning. There is only one who could stop us, since he refused to join us..."

Peter was invited to team up with this guy? I shake my head. Oh no, it's not like I would have liked to have known this. Thank you so much Peter for the details!

I take a peak through the gap of the door and watch Norman's fearful face, and then the Goblin bares his teeth in an utterly manic grin as he turns around to a place I can't see.

"Why don't you just give up?" The Goblin shouts.

"Because I know your secret. I know whose face is behind that mask." Says Spider-man.