Mess of a Dazed Spider
Well, I was bored, rocking out to some music, and reading the most recent Spider-Man issue. Since I'm not exactly proud of the way thigns are going in "The Other" arc, I couldn't help but imagine what might happen if Mr. Parker had gained a very considerable upgrade to his powers.
In other words, these few paragraphs ar what happens when you mix boredom, an open (but blank) Word document, and some good-ole' Spider-Man imagination. 😄
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The cold air felt good against his body. It felt as if the world was breathing with him as he soared—flying—over the rooftops. So much freedom… Peter mused. He shot a thin strand of webbing, which solidified on the corner of a nearby building. His momentum took him around the edge, where he released, flinging his body into the air. The whipped at his masked face.
Just below, red and blue lights threw their eerie glows on the streets as a squad of police cars fought desperately to keep up with fleeing criminals, who were maneuvering the roads in a tan Cadillac not too far ahead.
Shooting another glob of web, Spider-Man had soon caught up. He soared above the car for a moment, before gravity brought him to a crouch on the roof. His head rang out, tingling from a warning from his spider-sense.
Down.
A gun roared from the front seat of the car below. With ease, the spider on the roof dodged the metal bullet. He hissed menacingly, grabbing a hold of the corner of the roof. With a great clanging growl, the roof of the car peeled away before his masked eyes.
So much power…
Frightened men sat below him. They both had donned black oufits, with dark blue bandanas tied around their mouths and necks. The one in the passenger seat hollered frightfully, pointing his pistol towards the sky. He squeezed the trigger…
But no gunshot. With one fluid movement, the spider had grabbed the gun and webbed the man’s hands together.
So… so easy. Far stronger—quicker—than ever before.
Peter was in a daze. He didn’t think when he moved—didn’t think when he ripped the passenger out of the car, throwing him towards the sidewalk while simultaneously creating an intricate web to catch the falling criminal—all within a few seconds. He wasn’t thinking when the driver stubbornly decided to swerve the car onto oncoming traffic. And he certainly wasn’t thinking when he leapt ahead of the speeding car, landed on the street and turned, facing the car with the robber, and then proceeded to actually punch—specifically uppercut—the bulleting vehicle. He didn’t think; only did—instinctively crouching, springing up like a rubber band at the precise moment, bending the car’s bumper and sending it flying into the air.
A car, he thought. A whole damn car.
The automobile tumbled a few seconds in midair—a great lump of twisted metal, rumbling towards the ground. It landed with blood-curdling screeching, grating against the sidewalk, before coming to a grinding halt.
By this time, the pedestrians that had stood in shock moments ago were now horrified, mouths agape and screaming—running. Away, far away, from the monster that dressed like a spider that stood even now in the center of the street. Unmoving glossy-white eye lenses stared unblinkingly at its sick, demonic hands, which had just succeeded in overturning a racing Cadillac.
What Peter could remember after those chaotic seconds became increasingly blurry. He recalled shouting policemen, guns, orders, and then jumping, wind, numbness; rising in the air, one, two, three stories, webbing, skyscrapers—so many of them—and finally headquarters, rising again, countless stories, then the air duct, warmth, apartment… Mary Jane, Aunt May. Crying—had he killed that man in the car?—and then numbness, coldness, before… nothing. Black.
Sleep.
Peter could clearly remember waking up the next day with exactly one thing in mind: It just might take more than a few hours before he could use his new powers right.
END
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I'm sorry. I had to write that down.
I hate my (self-dubbed) author's urges. 🙂