Spider-Knight: Year One - Part 2

Part two of my first story centered around the combination of Spider-Man and Batman.

October 27th

Peter goes to Midtown High for the first time following the death of Al. He goes through the motions. Almost on autopilot. He eventually finds his way back to Dr. Jones’ AP science class. He sits in the same seat as before.

Andrea Oyama, the Asian American girl that sits next to him, notices that Peter is out of sorts. She has a concerned expression on her face.

“Hi Peter.” She says with a soft voice. Peter’s attention is drawn away from space.

“Oh, hi Andrea. How are you doing?” Peter puts on a falsely positive voice.

“I’m alright. How are you doing?” Peter supposes she must have noticed him staring off into space with a less than dreamlike expression.

“My uh, my uncle passed away actually.”

“Oh, Peter. I’m so sorry to hear that. How are you feeling?” Andrea says with an empathetic tone.

“Honestly? Not well. I was very close to him.” Andrea nods with understanding.

“Oh, you were? That’s a hard situation. How did…how did he pass?” She asks with curiosity.

“He was an old man. I found him lying on the ground.” He explains. A half-truth.

“I see. I hope you and your aunt can find a way to move forward.”

“Thank you.” Peter responds. The Doctor comes into class and it goes by without anything of note. As does the remainder of the school day. He felt numb to the daily activities.

Peter makes it back home to his aunt’s house. She’s sitting in the living room with a book in hand.

“Hi aunt Harriet.” He says in a saddened tone.

“Oh, hello Peter. How was school?” Harriet sets down the book.

“It was okay I guess.” He responds in a monotone voice.

“Is everything all right?” She asks with a tone of worry.

“I missed him a lot today.” His voice shakes.

“Oh, Peter. I miss him a lot too.” A moment of silence passes between them. “Are you hungry? I can fix you something to eat.” She offers. Figuring cooking might help distract her from obsessing about Al.

“Uh, yeah. I could eat.”

Harriet smiles. “I’ll get right on that. Just put your bag up and I’ll call you down when it’s ready, dear.”

Peter walks to the room upstairs. He closes the door behind him. He takes a look at the vest with his spider logo and his mind drifts back to his confrontation with Selena. He sets the bag down and starts crying silently to himself. He grits his teeth and puts a hand on his head. His body slowly slides down the door and he sits on the floor. Letting the emotions he had shoved down during the day flood out.

Later that night, Peter turned on the news on his television. The current story on the Daily Cast is that two men are currently robbing a bank. Peter looks at his black vest and mask. It’s almost like they’re calling to him. He quietly puts on the gear and clicks his web shooters on his wrists.

He carefully opens the window to his bedroom and slinks into the night. Spinning artificial webs left and right. Peter swings onto the rooftop. Two men dressed in dark clothing run outside. Instantly clocking Peter dressed in his gear.

One draws a gun and Peter yanks it away with his web. Peter jumps on the man who pulled the gun and knocks him down to the roof. The other man throws two punches and Peter, but he easily dodges them. Peter throws a punch back and it’s enough to incapacitate the other bank robber.

He ties the two unconscious bodies together with his webbing. Then grabs the bags of money and walks down to the bank floor from the rooftop’s door. Not entirely sure what to do with the bags, he sets them back on the counter.

October 28th

The following morning, Peter comes downstairs to see Harriet reading the paper. A publisher called the Daily Gazette, the Daily Cast’s newspaper. There’s a headline that reads “Vigilante Stops Bank Robbery.” On the front page, there’s an artist rendition of Peter in his costume. It’s a dark shadowy figure with horns.

Peter is walking around Harriet’s house. He sees papers on a desk. Late bills. Harriet has fallen a bit behind since the murder of Al.

There’s gotta be a way to make some extra money. I could give her the remaining prize money from my fight with Powerhouse Rhodes, but will that be enough? He muses to himself.

The following day at school, Doctor Jones brings in a guest. The head of the research and development department of Curtis’ laboratory. His name is Lucius Mason. A young adult African American man who looked to be in his mid to late twenties. He has short hair on his head and neatly groomed facial hair.

Peter looked at him with a bit of reverence. It’s a gig Peter would almost like to have someday. That is if he didn’t have the mission. This obsession to fix his city.

Lucius’ area of expertise was with technology and computers. A tinkerer. He was as with robotics like Mozart with the harpsichord. Peter studies his lecture as he speaks. Lucius has a warm energy about him.

Peter is very interested in his work. Peter wonders to himself about what Lucius would think about his web shooter mechanism. Peter gets an idea. What if he was brought on to the mission? Someone like Lucius could be a great help.

Later during the night, Peter puts on his mask and gear once again. He swings around the nightlife of New York to Napier Incorporated. It’s a lit up grand building with the name on the side of the building. From what Peter could find, this was the location of Dr. Jones’ lab. He crawls on the side of the building and into a window of an empty room.

It looks to be an office. He looks around for a moment and notices a photo of Harry Elliot, his friend. His mind is on the task at hand however and he jumps up to cling to the ceiling. He crawls to the direction of the laboratory. The lab itself is open with space. There’s beakers, scales, tubes, and a computer monitor tucked into a corner.

The lab is currently empty but there’s a paper cup on the work desk with a plastic cap. There’s a slight amount of water around the cup from the condensation. Suggesting that there is someone here. Peter finds a spot he can camp in until whoever is here returns. He only has to wait a moment until he hears the sound of footsteps. His radar alerts him of the figure drawing closer.

Peter peeks out. It’s Lucius Mason, the man who gave the lecture in Dr. Jones’ class today. Exactly the man Peter wanted to see. Peter hears the clacking of a keyboard. He waits until Lucius is deep in focus on his work to emerge from the shadows.

He walks very quietly. Peter comes closer to Lucius and Lucius notices the figure reflecting on the monitor screen. He turns around with a slight jolt.

“Who are you?!” Lucius asks, panicked.

“Who I am isn’t important.” Peter responds. Lucius goes to press a button under his desk. Peter shoots a line of web to cover the button.

“Don’t.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Lucius asks.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I need your help.” This piques Lucius’ interest.

“Wait, I’ve read about you. You’re the vigilante on the paper.” Peter nods.

“Yes. I am. I want to do something about the crime and corruption of the city. But I can’t do it alone. I need a man of your talents.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“How are you with sewing?”

“Need a new Halloween costume?” Lucius says sarcastically.

“Something like that.” Peter takes out a folded piece of paper from his vest pocket and sets it on the desk. Lucius takes it and opens it. It’s a detailed drawing of a costume. It’s a skin tight suit with a mask. The mask is separated at the mouth and chin but there’s a shape covering the nose. It also has two horns at the top.

The torso of the suit has a symbol that’s a combination of a bat and a spider. It’s a bat with spider legs. The torso also has a web pattern drawn on it. There’s gauntlets on the hands with three spikes sticking out from below the elbow. There’s a sleek utility belt as well. The color scheme is blue, grey, and a little yellow. The yellow is on the belt and the eyes. The blue is on the mask, gauntlets, and boots.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Lucius says. “Just give me a couple days. In the meantime, you might want to…” Lucius turns to Peter but he’s gone. “…lay low.”

Back at NYPD headquarters, Jameson Gordon gives awkward glances at Renee Knight during a briefing. Captain George Todd is speaking in front of a board with a photo of a man attached on it.

“This is Wilson Falcone. A crime boss and head of the Falcone crime family. He’s also known as the Roman King.” George Todd explains. Jameson focuses on the photograph. It’s a large bald man with a thin mustache.

“Gordon, I’m putting you with Stan Bullock.” George says. Gordon nods. At least he wasn’t being put with Renee.

“Looks like we’re partners now, Gordon.” Stan says. He’s a heavy set man dressed in a brown overcoat. He’s also wearing a brown fedora and red tie over his undershirt.

“Looks like we are, Stan.” Gordon replies. He shoots a look back at Renee. Who gives him a look that says “It’s okay.”

Later that night, Peter swings around the city with his black mask and vest. He swings toward a building with a large four near the top. It’s a skyscraper with blue windows. He touches down on the ground. Landing gracefully. Peter opts to walk through the front door instead of sneaking around.

When stepping through the doors, he’s greeted by the building’s mailman. An older gentleman with hair in patterns of grey and white. He’s wearing a pair of glasses and a postman’s hat.

“Hello sir. How may I help you?” The man asks.

“Hi. I’m looking for the Fabulous Four.”

“Ah, yes. Of course. They’re on the top floor. If you take the elevator you can’t miss it.”

“Thanks mister.” The postman smiles and walks away. Peter walks over to the elevator that’s located in the back of the lobby. The elevator carries him to the top floor. It makes a dinging noise as the door opens and he steps out. Four figures dressed in black and blue uniforms are instantly alerted to the ding.

First, is a man with black hair, white temples, and brown eyes. His name is Patrick Richards, also known as the indomitable Rubberman. Second, is a woman with long blonde hair and blue eyes. Her name is Susan Craddock. The Ghost Woman. Her brother Ronnie is next. Supernova. He also has blue eyes and blonde hair. Except his hair is short. Last but not least is a man named Ben Markov, also known as the ever-loving Rockslide. Whereas the other figures are humanoid, this man is made of grey stones. The most human part of him is his eyes, which are blue.

The Fabulous Four were spending time together in their room as an alarm was set off.

“The alarm! Someone’s trying to sneak in!” Patrick says.

“Must be some kind of nut to think he can take us by surprise!” Patrick, Susan, and Ronnie study a monitor which is connected to cameras. They watch as the shrouded vigilante creeps his way into their facilities.

“It’s the vigilante from the newspaper!”

“He could’ve just called in for an appointment just like everyone else.” Ronnie says.

“Teenagers.” Susan responds. Just as Peter thinks he made it in undetected, Patrick turns and is greeted face to face with the costumed Peter.

“What brings you here, young man?” Patrick asks the young vigilante.

“I was hoping to join up with you! I wanna be a member of the Fabulous Four! How much does the hero work?”

“Oh, we don’t do this for profit.” Susan says.

“We don’t pay any salaries or bonuses. Any profits we make go into scientific research!” Patrick continues.

“Yeah, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place, pal.” Ronnie chimes in.

“We just keep enough money to pay for essential expenses. Every other cent goes into the development of the most effective super crime fighting organization we can create!” Ben explains. Peter begins to emerge out of a window with a line of web already extended to a far away surface.

“Should’ve known. It was worth a shot. Okay, keep me out of your club.” Peter says before swinging away.

“It’s a shame he left so suddenly, maybe we could’ve helped him!” Susan says.

“Eh, we’ve got enough to deal with as it is.” Ben says flippantly.

“I don’t think that’s the last we’ll be hearing from him.” Patrick responds.

October 30th

Home from school, Peter is watching the news. The Daily Cast is covering the seeming rise of organized crime in New York. A fact of which James Gordon is all too familiar with. As he has been chasing leads to a man named Wilson Falcone.

“You know what I think? The police aren’t getting it done. If you ask me, it’s about time that we have someone to step up to the plate. Even a costumed nut job.” A man on the screen states.

“Don’t you think that leaving someone like Wilson Falcone of the Falcone Crime Family to a vigilante sets a dangerous precedent?” Another man sitting across from him responds.

“What I’m saying is someone has to take care of him, and if it’s gotta be some brave vigilante then so be it.”

Peter’s phone dings and he takes his attention away from the newscast. It’s a message from Lucius Mason.

“It’s ready.” It reads. Peter’s eyes light up. He had been excited to see what Lucius would come up with. His black vest and mask combo was a good starting point, but it didn’t exactly scream “fear me.” He goes down the stairs with his backpack slung behind him.

“Hey, aunt Harriet?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I’m going to go meet up with a friend. We have a test coming up and they wanted to go over some things.”

“Of course, Peter. Just don’t come back too late.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later.” What Peter said wasn’t a complete lie. There was a test coming up in his algebra class, but he hadn’t intended to help any friends study for it. As he steps outside, he texts Lucius back:

“I’m on my way.” Peter goes into a secluded area and briefly changes into his black mask and vest from his backpack. Then swings across town to Lucius’ lab. This time Lucius had left a window open for the young wall crawler to enter.

As Peter enters via an open window, Lucius turns his head from his desk to see his company. At least he made Peter’s entry a bit easier.

“Alright, show me the money.” Peter jests.

“Good, good. You’re here.” Right this way. Lucius gets up from his chair and guides Peter to a room. There’s a figure with a tarp draped over it. Lucius walks to the figure and uncovers it, revealing Peter’s new suit.

“Wow. It’s...it’s beautiful.” An air of emotion is in Peter’s voice.

“Glad you like it. I kept it as close to the drawing as I could. I’m just glad I didn’t have to add a cape.”

Peter studies the new suit. It’s a form-fitting grey, blue, and yellow costume. The mask covers everything but the eyes and mouth. Even down to the little details. Like the symbol of the bat with spider legs.

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of the capes either. What if it gets caught in a wind turbine or something?”

“Would you like to try it on?”

“Oh, would I ever?”

“I’ll leave the room for a moment then.” As Lucius steps outside the room, Peter changes from his current costume to the upgraded one. He feels the material of the costume softly cover his skin.

“Whoa.” He says to himself. He puts on the blue gloves and the gauntlets with the thin blade-like spikes. Lastly, came the mask. He grabs the mask and holds it close to his face to get a better look. Then finally puts the mask on his face.

“Alright, I’m decent!” Peter shouts. Lucius walks back into the room. He walks closer to Peter and takes in the new costume on the vigilante. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased by the final product. “How do I look?”

“See for yourself.” Lucius guides him to a mirror. Peter studies his reflection.

“Cool.”

“I’m glad you like it. Makes the stress from keeping this project a secret worth it.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate this.” Peter turns from the mirror.

“It’s no problem. I suppose you couldn’t very well keep wearing your DIY wrestling gear.”

“You saw that, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m not one for professional wrestling, but I have to admit it was exciting.“ He thinks for a moment. “By the way, the sole of the boots have a special signal to attract bats. If you activate it, a swarm will gather. Could be useful under the right circumstances.”

“Got it.” Peter didn’t like bats. So he was hoping he wouldn’t have to use that function.

“If we’re going to work closely together, I don’t think we can keep meeting here.”

“I guess you have a point.”

“I don’t suppose you have some kind of spider cave we could go to.”

“No, sorry. My house is basically my base.”

“I see. Do you live alone?”

“No. Someone else lives there, and they can never know what I really am.”

“Well, in that case we have to find a more private area. I suppose we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. If you ever tear the costume or something, don’t be afraid to give me a ring.”

“Will do.” Lucius nods.

“Thanks again.” Peter takes his backpack and slings it over his back. He leaps out of the open window adorned with his new costume, and swings into the night with his artificial webbing.

Okay. Now I have an upgrade. So, where do I go now? Wilson Falcone. He seems like a big issue for this city. Dangerous. He must be stopped.

October 31st - Halloween

Now that the costume has been tested, Peter decides that it’s time to get serious. He’s sneaking on the property of Wilson Falcone. A mansion with lights emanating from the inside. There’s several chauffeurs in the driveway, which is circularly paved and has a large kept bush in the center.

Peter crouches beside chauffeur to chauffeur. There’s four vehicles in total. Peter takes note that only three of the four drivers are awake. He gently inspects the pockets of the drivers that are asleep. Only half of them are armed.

Inside, is a dinner of some of New York’s high profile gangsters and corrupt officials. The worst of the worst. Here for Wilson Falcone. A large overweight bald man with a mustache. He’s wearing an expensive white suit with a purple undershirt and orange tie. What these men have in common is that they all fear Wilson. So much so that there’s a nickname for him: The Roman King. After tonight, he won’t be the only thing they fear.

“Lieutenant Gordon. What a nice surprise.” A man says while talking on the phone. He’s an older gentleman. Thin strands of hair sit on his balding head. He’s dressed in a pink polka dot tie and black suit with a white undershirt. It’s the commissioner of the NYPD. “The vigilante? I am eating, lieutenant. No, I have not filled your requests for personnel, I find them excessive. Yes, lieutenant, I am well aware of how many laws the vigilante is breaking but there are two sides to everything, aren’t there?”

Outside, Peter is crouched beside a bush that sits behind windows illuminated by yellow light. Eavesdropping on the conversation. Waiting for the right time to make himself known.

“Yes there are, and the vigilante is having a positive effect on the public spirit. Or have you noticed the drop in crime lately? He continues. “Further, I am not in the habit of explaining myself to lieutenants. I hope we understand each other, Gordon.”

“Have you seen the vigilante, commissioner?” They say he’s huge,” One of the older wives says.

“You shouldn’t pry. The commissioner has his hands full, these days. We’re trusting him to cope with the vigilante - - and with Gordon,” Wilson Falcone says to the woman and sips on a glass of wine. “I appreciate your trust, boys. Yes I do. Good to see you all. It’s been a while.”

Not yet. Peter thinks to himself.

“Hell, commish. Nobody was about to come near you until the polls were in on the vigilante thing. Don’t go cheap on the wine, young lady,” A man dressed in a light blue tuxedo says.

“The things you say, Charlie,” The man’s wife says. Standing beside him in a black dress. She’s a similar age to the first wife.

“The councilman is blunt about his concerns. This is an election year. My organization is likewise concerned, commissioner. This vigilante is costing us money.” Wilson states.

“Two sides to everything, friends. A few street operators are out of action, yes - - But the people of New York City have a hero. Makes them feel safe. And the safer they feel, the fewer questions they ask,” The commissioner adds.

“I don’t like it. It’s stirring things up. That kid they have as the D.A. is pushing internal affairs to go after the detective. He would be difficult to replace, and should he talk..” Wilson is cut off.

“Dent is your problem, Falcone. Yes he is,” One of the men interjects.

Suddenly, the lights go out in the mansion.

“What the Hell - -“

“Who the - -“

“God, we’ll all die - -“

“The lights. What happened to the lights - -“

Now - - take out the wall - - hit the floor - - it’s showtime - -

“Settle down, damn it - - it’s just an outage - -”

“Some stupid prank - -“

“Shut up - -“

Peter punches a hole through the walls. His form is covered in shadow other than the light from the hole behind him. The white shape of the eyes on his mask seem to glow in the darkness.

“Ladies. Gentleman. You have eaten well. You’ve eaten New York City’s wealth. It’s spirit. Your feast is nearly over. From this moment on - - none of you are safe.” Peter declares. He throws a bat shaped boomerang into the table. Then, just as quickly as he appeared, he vanishes into the night. The men sitting at the table are at a loss for words. Wilson stares at the thin sharp boomerang angrily.

November 1st

Jameson Gordon is speaking with the police captain at the NYPD office.

“The vigilante was sighted last night on Halloween. Evidently, he has some new duds from the footage recorded in that match of his.” George Stacy says.

“Yes, sir. My team has also caught wind of that.” Jameson responds.

“Then why hasn't he been caught yet?”

“My team and I have been trying, sir. Whoever we’re dealing with doesn’t seem to make mistakes. He doesn’t leave anything substantial behind. He disappears like smoke. How can we be sure he’s even…human?”

“Listen, Jameson. I like you. If you don’t bring in any results, I’d hate to cut you from the team. Especially after you’ve been doing so well.” Jameson’s feelings for his words are mixed. He believes the captain when he says he doesn’t want to let him go, but he’s also doing his best. The vigilante is unlike anything he’s dealt with in the past. There’s also the matter of his guilt for his personal life weighing on him.

“I understand, sir.” Jameson replies.

November 16th

Two of Wilson Falcone’s men run into his bedroom in panic. Where Wilson’s arms and legs are webbed together on his bed without any clothes.

“Sir - - your Rolls - - it’s gone,” one of the men states.

“Sir?,” the other man asks.

“It was him. Said the Rolls is in the river. Thinks he’s a damned Robin Hood…He dies.” Wilson says coldly.

November 17th

The next night, Peter is crouched on a rooftop in his nightly attire. He witnesses a struggle on the street. A van is out of control. Its driver struggles to slow the speeding vehicle.

Jameson drives behind with Renee Knight in the passenger seat. Turning the wheel to act before someone gets hurt. He soon notices an elderly lady dragging a shopping cart in the way of the van. He swerves. Peter jumps off the rooftop. Jameson lets go of the steering wheel and opens his car door.

“Lieutenant - -,“ Renee Knight says in a panicked voice.

“Take the wheel.” He orders.

The elderly woman takes notice of the oncoming van. The headlights shine on her face. Jameson is hanging from the side of the van. Latched onto the open window of the van. Peter swings from the lamppost.

As Jameson reaches for the steering wheel of the van, Peter dives and pushes the woman out of the way. Her shopping cart flips over and is hit by the van. Jameson falls from the side of the van. He’s out cold.

When he awakes moments later, he finds that Knight has Peter at gunpoint. Peter is crouched.

“Don’t move, you. Lieutenant, you all right?” Knight asks.

“Never…mind me…Don’t take your eyes off..”

“I called for back-up - -“ In a swift move, Peter shoves her face. Jameson aims his gun at Peter.

“Stop or I’ll…” His fingers are too weak to pull the trigger.

Several cop cars arrive. An officer runs toward Jameson.

“Lieutenant, she said it’s the vigilante - - and Branden he - -“

“He went down that alley. There he is.” Jameson points. A couple officers fire off shots. “Saved that old woman…he…” no one is listening to the lieutenant.

The back of Peter’s leg gets shot. He pushes onward and ignores it. He does a somersault and dodges some more bullets. He uses his hands to push up and kick into a boarded up window.

“No one fires without my order. Get the front of that place covered. Take a squad to the roof.” Jameson demands.

An officer extends his walky talkie to Jameson. “Lieutenant. It’s the commissioner,” he says.

Peter trudges up a stairway. He steps over a passed out body while holding the wound on the back of his leg. He journeys to the roof.

“Commissioner, there’s no need for - - he hasn’t attacked anybody - - commissioner, you can’t let Branden - -,” Jameson speaks into the walky talkie.

Sounds of a helicopter move closer. Peter finds a boarded up door.

“No. Oh no.” Gordon says to himself. The man referred to as Branden is piloting the helicopter. He was called in by the commissioner. Who said that the building was due for demolition.

The helicopter drops an explosive. The ensuing explosion knocks Peter back. The roof of the building is demolished. 18 SWAT men enter the wreckage. Unaware that Peter is hidden just outside the wreckage.

They’ve got him cornered. They’ve got him outnumbered. They’ve got him trapped. They’re in trouble.

Peter falls beneath collapsed stairwells. He narrowly avoids the fire. His belt catches on fire. He quickly gets it off as it burns. Peter’s reflexes allow him to land on his feet.

His foot touched a metal trapdoor. With a chain and lock on it that reads “DANGER. ELECTRICITY. 80,000 WATTS”.

This might be enough to protect me. Provided that warning is a lie.

Peter quickly uses his strength to smash open the lock.

November 18th

The night bleeds into the next day as Peter tries to avoid the SWAT team. Another explosive goes off in the building. Outside of the building, Renee is put on a stretcher and is taken inside an ambulance by EMTs. Another unit makes its way into the increasingly devastated building.

“This is unit three. We are approaching the target area.”

Gordon speaks up. “Watch where you’re going, you - -“

“No prisoners, men,” a SWAT officer orders.

“Lieutenant Jameson, you shouldn’t be standing just yet,” an EMT says.

“I’m all right,” he responds.

Peter had made enemies of every criminal in New York City, and nearly every elected official. They’ve got him cornered because he hurt himself saving an old woman’s life.

“We have entered the lobby. No sign of him yet,” an officer says.

Voices call out from walky talkie’s. “Unit one reporting. The second floor’s a mess. Nothing living.” “Unit two reporting. Found a body under the water heater. Just an old wino.”

“Keep it tight. Keep it tight,” a second officer says as he points an assault rifle.

“Over here. Give me some light,” a third officer says. Ducking over a slanted plank of wood. Two other officers point their flashlights behind the unit. A fifth officer in the unit stands idly holding his rifle. Inspecting the damage of the explosions. One of the men holding the flashlights points it at a chimney.

“No. Down there. Over there. The floor,” The third officer says. The officer behind him points the light at the metal trapdoor. “If he got down there - - trap door’s metal - - might’ve survived.”

“So perforate it, soldier,” the second officer orders.

“Units one and two, stay where you are. This is only a precautionary fire.” The officer pointing the rifle shoots a round off at the trapdoor.

“If he’s down there, he trapped himself,” the second officer says.

“Downside! Move it!,” a sixth and final SWAT officer barks as he holds the tap door open.

“Checking basement area. No trouble yet.” The officers follow close together as the foremost one steps down the stairs of the door.

Voices call from the walky talkie’s again. “Another wino up here. He’s cold.” “Wait, got something - - no - - it’s just a dog.” Four officers go downstairs. Two remain on the current floor.

“No trouble yet,” officer one says.

“Steady burst if you find him - - no matter how dead he looks. Go for the chest. We’ll need his face for identification,” an officer says before shutting the trapdoor behind him.

Suddenly, Peter’s arms grab the two SWAT officers who stayed behind.

“Jesus, another wino. They said the place was deserted.” The four officers who entered the door find themselves in a room. One that has a toilet, small sink, a cheap bed, a small table, and religious signs on the wall. With an open Bible and Jesus statue on the table.

“Super must’ve lived here,” one officer says.

“Nobody home now,” another says.

“Nobody here, men. We’re coming back up.” The third officer down there says into a walky talkie.

“I like you right where you are, Branden,” Peter’s voice calls from the other end. He had taken the walky talkie off of one of the men he subdued. “Hold your fire. You’d only kill your own men. Too many people have died already. Have the other squads withdrawn. I can’t guarantee their safety,” Peter says, perched from the chimney with the walky in his hand.

Voices call from his stolen walky talkie. “No use. Something’s on top of it.” “Units one and two. Converge on lobby. He’s here. Shoot on sight.”

Peter clicks a smoke capsule and drops it down the chimney.

“Here, sir. A hole in the wall. Must’ve been a fireplace here once. Must’ve kicked through. Climbed up the chimney. Wha—“ the capsule hisses as it bounces off the broken chimney and into the room.

“Gas masks! Fast!”

Gordon lights a cigarette outside. A voice comes through a police officer’s walky talkie. “Unit one, do you copy?”

“I think Branden needs help, lieutenant.”

“We can’t help. Orders. Breaks my heart,” Gordon responds.

Up in the helicopter, the commissioner rides with Branden.

“Sir, he’s taken out unit three. The whole unit, commissioner,” Branden says.

“This will not do. This will not do at all,” replies the commissioner. “What’s wrong with our marksman? I trust you didn’t get me a blind marksman, did you?”

“No, sir. He’s our best man. But there are a hundred places to hide in there. Until the sun is higher in the sky. It won’t be long, sir.”

The only survivor of the attack is a grey Siamese cat who is sitting next to Peter in the shadows behind some stairs. Peter wraps a line of webbing around his leg tight to stop the bleeding. The stairs creak above him.

“Step it up.”

“Careful. Stairs are giving.”

“What the hell?” The cat cries as it hops away.

“Just a cat, man.” An officer says as they walk down the stairs.

“It’s a bat we’re after…I think.”

“Keep an eye out.”

Peter clicks a button on the bottom of his boot.

If I patented this, I’d make a fortune.

It’s the sonar signal that draws bats to his location. Peter takes another web cartridge out of his boot to replace one on his wrists. The Siamese cat meows.

Here goes nothing.

“Steady, man. Just that cat again.”

“Getting on my nerves.”

A SWAT officer attempts to lift the fallen wooden beam. “Whoever this vigilante is, he’s stronger than a…”

“Quiet. He could be anywhere.”

“Said he was in the chimney - - there - -.” An officer points his assault rifle toward the chimney.

“Hold it, you idiot.” An officer says as he crawls out of the chimney. Who is now without his helmet. “Drop that beam. They weren’t quick enough. They were useless. We’re lucky he didn’t kill them. Now fan out. You’re leaving yourselves wide op—“ Peter webs him to a wall.

The other officers take notice and open fire. Peter ducks it while rolling backwards. A bullet nearly misses him and hits a pillar as he ducks forward. The gunfire doesn’t let up.

“There.”

“Can’t see him. Where?”

“Moves so fast.”

“Dark.”

“Could be anywhere.”

“Wha—“ “Damn that cat.” Peter rushes beside a pillar as bullets hit it. The cat cries again. The officer’s stray bullets nearly hit the cat, but Peter slides and saves it as the bullets hit a wall.

Peter quickly tosses the cat behind a broken window to save it. As the cat falls to its feet outside, Peter is hit in the arm with a bullet.

“Tagged him. Close in.”

“Those idiots are firing out the windows - - for God’s - -,” Gordon yells into a walky talkie. A bullet hits the shoulder of a police officer on the outside. The cat runs to the arms of Selena Carradine, who is among the crowd witnessing the action.

The SWAT team is moving in on Peter, who’s ducking behind a pillar. “Got him.”

“Get in close. Cut the freak in half.”

“Got him, man. We’ve got him.”

Peter is feeling groggy from the blood loss. In a desperate move, Peter kicks the pillar and breaks it, causing what’s left of the ceiling to crash down on the officers. He leaps away in the ensuing confusion.

“You’re the one - - ,” Peter says. “- - who tried to shoot the cat.” He punches the officer in the chest so hard he flies through a weak wall.

An officer coughs.

“Can’t see.”

“Can’t move. Get me out.”

The sun begins to rise. A swarm of bats fly above the crowd. The people who have gathered start screaming.

In the building, Peter kicks an officer in the face.

“Art, get out of the way.”

“Look,” an officer says.

Peter can hear the voices of the onlookers.

“What the Hell?”

“Up there.”

“My God.”

The swarm of bats flock around the area. Civilians and law enforcement alike duck and take cover as the bats claw and bite. The distraction is enough to allow Peter to escape the building and leap onto a cop car. Where Gordon is dragging the police officer who was shot.

“My lord, what’s—,” Branden is cut off by the commissioner.

“There. Down there. He’s swinging away. Get after him or I’ll have you shot. Get after him,” The commissioner orders.

The commissioner chased a cloud of bats for twelve blocks. Only to find out that was all he was chasing. Somewhere along the way, Peter took a turn, but the bats kept going. He narrowly escaped both Gordon and Branden’s men. But one thing was for sure. Gordon wasn’t a name he’d soon forget.

Every law official on the scene had to get vaccines for the bat attack. Four of Branden’s men were hospitalized with broken bones. The SWAT member Peter punched through a wall suffered from five broken ribs and internal bleeding.

Peter sneaks back into his room. Exhausted and bleeding. He takes off his costume and breaks out the med kit again. He sleeps for about an hour before going to school again.

Later that day, Peter comes home from school a wreck. He sleeps for hours, until he wakes up during the night. Peter begins to draw up a plan to take down the Roman King by searching the name Wilson Falcone on the web.

November 26th

It’s the night for Peter to move in on Wilson Falcone. He puts on a replacement costume that Lucius made for him after his run in with the SWAT team. With the help of Lucius, Peter was able to find the address of the Roman King’s penthouse. After the costume is secured on his form, he opens the window of his bedroom and crawls out.

There’s a bit of a chill in the air as he swings with his webs. Peter reaches the building and scales his way up. His hands and feet cling to the surface like an arachnid. Peter reaches the top of the building.

There’s four bushes in every corner of the rooftop. At the center is a rectangular pool house. There’s multiple stone pillars supporting the roof which is made of glass except for the edges. It has two sloping sides that meet at a ridge. On the inside are multiple Roman statues surrounding the pool and hanging lights. There’s also some shrubbery about the statues as well.

Wilson Falcone and one of his men, Fisk, are talking. Johnny Fisk is Wilson’s nephew. They’re wearing towels around their waists.

“Johnny. You’ve grown into a strong man. How’s my sister holding up?”

“Mother’s good, uncle.”

As Peter is listening in on their conversation, he sees a sleek figure run across the roof.

Who would…?

He watches as the slender figure creeps into view. He can make out curves. It’s a woman. Peter slinks away from his post. Inching closer to the mystery woman.

Oh, that’s just great. He thinks.

The figure is none other than Selena Carradine. Whose wearing her cat costume. Peter watches as she pops claws out of her glove.

Just what are you up to? As he mulls that over, she traces a claw into a circle on a pane of glass. Cutting out a small hole.

“Lucius, there’s someone else here. It’s Selena.” He speaks into his wrist.

“Selena? The one that–”

“Yeah. It’s her.”

“What do I want me to do?”

“Please stand by.” Peter hangs up. Then zips his way on a perch above Selena with his webbing. He drops behind her.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Selena jumps.

“Jesus! You can’t just–!”

“Isn’t this a school night?” Peter says playfully.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Touche.”

“You know whose penthouse this is?”

“Of course I do. How do you know?”

“I’ll ask the questions here, thank you.”

“I’m here to steal a rare diamond.” Peter remembers what she said the night his uncle died. About her wanting to escape and make a better life for the girl she’s looking after.

“Okay, but how did you happen to know he had one?”

“Who else would own a diamond but a king?”

“That actually makes sense.” Selena puts her arm through the hole. Peter shoots a net of webbing at her arm. “Not so fast.”

“What? What is that?” Selena inspects the webbing.

“It’s this tensile webbing I invented. You’re gonna be stuck there for a while. So I’d start talking if I were you.” Selena rolls her eyes.

“Fine. What do you want to know?” Peter steps closer to Selena.

“Why Falcone?”

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t be satisfied with my response.” She exhales a breath. “He had my mother committed to an asylum.” Peter is stunned silent. Surprised by this new information.

“Your mother? But how did she get involved with the Roman King?”

“Because, the son of a bitch is my father.” Peter is caught off guard.

“What, so you feel that he owes you something?”

“He does owe me. He took my mother away from me. Left me out high and dry. That’s why I go by Carradine. It’s my mother’s name. I’d rather be dead than be called Falcone.” Suddenly, the picture becomes clear. This wasn’t just about a diamond. It was far more than that.

“So what are you gonna do once you get this diamond?”

“Take Holly and get the hell out of here. No more dress up. No more thieving. Just us.” Selena pops out a claw from the finger of her glove. Then cut through the webbing.

“Could you do that the whole time?”

“Thought I’d humor you.”

“Of course.” Peter responds in a deflated tone.
.
“Be my lookout?” Selena slowly pushes her arm through the hole of the glass.

“I’d rather not be an accessory to robbery.”

“Fine then. Guess I’ll just have to do this myself.” Her arm reaches for a door handle. It’s a metal silver bar that she nudges. The front door opens. Johnny enters the room as Selena creeps her way inside.

“Shit.”

“Uncle! Someone’s here!” Johnny calls out. An alarm triggers. It’s a piercing sound.

Something’s wrong. Peter thinks to himself. He springs into action. Twelve men surround Peter and Selena. Hired thugs.

Peter and Selena face back to back.

“I’ll take six, you take six?”

“Well I can honestly say this is the first time I’ve taken six men at once.”

“Leave the quips to me.” Peter retorts before a man lunges at him. He easily maneuvers out of the way. He shoots a web at the man.

Meanwhile, Selena dodges a knife and kicks it out of a man’s hand. Then pops her claws out and digs them into his chest.

“Aaah!” The man yells.

“You can’t kill these men.” Peter says in a stern voice. He shoves a fist away and counters with his own. Knocking a man out.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She kicks a man in the gut.

“Nobody dies.”

“Do you really think anyone cares if these scum die?.” She scratches a man’s chest. Some blood spills. “Fine. But don’t expect them to come out of this unscathed.”

“I’m gonna skin you alive, you bitch!” A man shouts. Selena punches his face with anger.

“Call me that again and you’ll be eating food through a straw!”

Peter dodges multiple pouches and kicks seamlessly. His radar sense guides his movements. He webs a man’s legs and pulls him to the ground. Then knocks him unconscious.

As their fight continues, Wilson dresses in a white tuxedo. Adding cuff links to the sleeves. He had expected a quiet night, and was quite annoyed by this distraction. He grabs a cane with jewel attached to the handle. Then puts on a brass ring.

Outside, Wilson’s thugs lie unconscious. Peter and Selena catch a breath from the fight.

“That was fun. You make a good dance partner.” Selena says.

“We’re not out of the woods yet. Someone else is coming.”

“Must be dad.” Selena says sarcistacally. “Wait a minute, how do you know?”

“I’ve got this sensory thing. I don’t have time to explain. You know that feeling when a barber puts their clippers close to your neck? It’s kind of like that.”

“Huh. So I guess sneaking up on you is out of the question.”

With that, Wilson walks out of the open door. He’s a man of great stature. His strides are calm. The swagger of a man with power. He uses his cane in his walk. A cigar in his other hand.

“Selena, who’s your friend?” He asks.

“Friend’s a strong term. He’s not with me. He’s here for you actually.”

Wilson takes out a metal lighter. Then lights his cigar and takes a puff. “For me?” He chuckles. “That’s right. You’re the vigilante that took my Rolls Royce. Suppose it was a matter of time before we met.”

“I’m taking you in.” Peter says.

“Oh? How do you suppose to do that?”

“I’ll fight you if I have to.”

Wilson chuckles again. “A fight? I was hoping to resolve this without killing you. But if it’s a fight you wish…” He throws his cigar on the rooftop and steps on it. He undoes his cuff links.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Selena asks Peter.

“I’ve taken down bigger opponents.”

Wilson takes off his suit jacket. Underneath is a purple dress shirt and rippling muscles that bulge through. He motions for Peter to make the first move.

This is it.

Peter spins a line of web that connects to Wilson’s hand. Wilson urgently pulls his hand and grabs onto the web. Pulling Peter to him quickly and landing the first blow. Knocking Peter to ground.

Peter quickly recovers however and locks a hold onto Wilson’s arm. Using his strength to keep it in place. Peter throws Wilson over his shoulder and onto the ground. Peter quickly shoots webs on his arms and legs.

“Not bad, kid. This may be more fun that I thought.”

“Stay down.” Peter warns. His radar sense goes haywire. A gun cocks. It’s Johnny.

“Oh, you didn’t think I was alone did you?”

“Hands up, vigilante. It would be a shame to splatter your brains all over this nice roof.” Peter complies. “What business do you have being here? At the penthouse of the Roman King? The most feared man in New York?”

“He’s spread fear in the hearts of citizens for too long. It’s about time someone does something about that.”

“So you thought you’d play a little dress up and do it yourself. How noble.”

Selena grabs at Johnny’s arm which is holding the gun. She pulls it away.

“Watch where you’re pointing that thing, Johnny. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Selena. It’s been too long. How’s the mom?” She grits her teeth. “Right, sorry. I forget how sensitive that topic is for you.”

“Bastard.”

As Peter stands his place, his hands still raised. His mind races as he tries to think of how to move forward. Wilson is also stuck in place for the time being.

“Let me guess. You’re after the diamond.” Johnny says.

“A girl’s gotta eat.”

That’s it, keep talking.

“What, turning tricks isn’t paying enough?” Selena grits her teeth again. She’s never liked Johnny. Even before her mother was admitted.

“I wouldn’t expect a pampered pretty boy prick to understand.” She tries to put on an aloof attitude. Not wanting to show how much Johnny is getting to her. “Did you get bored and need a little thrill? Well let me tell you something, cuz. This life isn’t for you.”

“But it’s for you?” He questions.

“I didn’t have a choice. Stealing is how I get by. Of course, it hasn’t always been easy. I haven’t always made the best choices.” She glances at Peter.

“Maybe when we’re done here, I’ll have uncle pay your little roommate a visit. What’s her name again? Molly?” Selena’s eyes dart back at him. “It’s Holly, that’s right. A kid doesn’t belong in a neighborhood like that.”

“Which is what the diamond is for.”

“Now it makes sense. A young woman like you has no business taking care of a child. It’s a wonder she hasn’t died yet.” Selena pops her claws out again and sticks Johnny’s arm. Causing him to drop the gun.

Then Peter acts. He shoots a web at the gun and yanks it away. Selena retracts her hand. Johnny yells in pain. Selena punches his face hard and knocks him unconscious. His nose bleeds.

“Nice work.” Peter says.

“Self defense classes.”

“Now we just need to take care of the big guy.” Peter taps his wrist. “Come in Lucius.”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Selena and I got into a fight with Wilson’s men. There were twelve of them.” Wilson chuckles in the distance.

“Call the police if you wish. I’ll be out by noon. Half the force is–”

“Hold on a sec.” Peter shoots a web at Wilson’s mouth. “It’s very rude to talk when someone’s on the phone.”

“What else happened? Is that Falcone?” Lucius says.

“Yeah. He came out and I had a scuffle with them. He’s webbed up on the roof of his penthouse. Johnny Fisk came to back him up and Selena took care of him.”

“Does that mean she’s on our side?”

“I don’t know yet.” He looks at Selena.

“Alright, well. What do you want to do about Mr. Falcone?”

“Call the police and have them come to the penthouse.”

“Will do.” Lucius cuts the line.

Peter walks closer to the Roman King. Suddenly, a shuriken flies and cuts a thread of webbing. Peter frantically looks around to see anyone, but he can’t. Wilson Falcone pulls at the cut thread and is able to free himself.

“Oh no.”

Peter gets into a fighting stance as Wilson stands upright. Peter throws a punch and Wilson is able to counter. He grabs Peter’s wrists and squeezes. It crushes Peter’s web shooters. He kicks at Wilson to break free of his grasp.

Selena jumps in. She swipes her claws at Falcone. Keeping him on his toes. Giving Peter a chance to land a punch on him.

“Alright, Selena. Wanna do this?”

“I don’t see why not.” She smirks.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Wilson lunges at Peter and he leaps over him. He attempts to shoot webbing but nothing happens. He lands on the ground.

Dammit. My web shooters are completely wrecked. My comms are probably destroyed too.

He rushes toward Wilson but the Roman King grabs a hold of him. He wraps his arms around his body tight like a vise. Squeezing the costume clad teenager.

This is bad. He’s strong. Stronger than I imagined.

Selena suddenly slashes Wilson’s face with her claws. Wilson drops Peter. Blood drips down from the wound. Wilson swats her away.

Peter moves quickly with a running knee strike.

Selena, I owe you my life.

Peter is able to land a few strikes on Wilson. Finally getting somewhere with his physical arsenal. Peter unclips his belt and throws down some smoke bombs.

“Alright, where are you, little bug?”

Peter takes out a bat shaped disc and stabs Wilson with it.

“Aaah!” He yells out.

Peter lands a hard punch on Wilson’s face. Wilson stammers back near a ledge.

“Give it up, Willy!” Peter yells out. “I’ve got you on the ropes now!”

“If it wasn’t for your little girlfriend, you’d be finished by now.”

“She’s not my type.” He jokes.

“Make jokes while you can, boy. If I get a hold of you again, I’ll crush your bones to dust.” Wilson takes note of the ledge.

“Big words, Willy.”

“Why don’t you come and find out?”

“If that’s the way you want it.” Peter runs toward Wilson, but he suddenly jumps out of the way. Peter trips over the ledge and plummets to the Earth.

Al, Harriet, mom, dad. If this is it, I’m sorry.

Those are the last thoughts that go through Peter’s head before he crashes on the ground.

November 27th - Thanksgiving

An hour later, Peter comes to. He reaches for his side. Which is severely hurt. He tries to sit up, but there’s too much pain.

Lucius rushes to Peter.

“Spider-Knight! Spider-Knight! Are you okay?”

“No.” His voice comes out weakly.

“Come on, let’s get you to a hospital.”

“No…no hospital. Can’t let anyone see.”

“Can you stand?”

“D-don’t think so.”

“I know you’re not like anyone else, but you’re hurt.”

“I can…heal. Might take…few days. Maybe week.”

Lucius helps Peter up. Peter’s legs are wobbly.

“I’ll take you to my station at work. Might be able to patch up some scrapes and bruises. Everyone has a first aid kit.” Peter stumbles and throws up blood.

“You may be bleeding internally.” Peter tries speaking again, but all that comes out is a pained whisper. “Save your energy. Don’t speak anymore.”

Lucius takes Peter to his car. Setting him in the backseat. Lucius drives away. By the time the police arrive at the penthouse, Wilson and Johnny are long gone. Selena made her escape as well.

Later on Thanksgiving Day, when Peter is able to stand again. He goes to the cemetery. He’s banged up quite a bit. But he has a fresh change of clothes and bandages on his body. He stands in front of the tombstones of his parents. Which read Richard Wayne and Mary Wayne. Beloved father and beloved mother.

This is the first time since I got back that I’ve really done this. I haven't had much time outside of school and my night job.

“Sorry that I haven’t come more often.” He speaks to the gravestones. Not expecting any answer back. “I guess it took a lot for me to be ready for this.”

His uncle Al’s gravestone is located on the next plot over.

“I lost pretty badly.” He says. All there is in return is the sound of the wind. It’s a chilly day.

“I wanted to avenge you. All of you.” He stares at the gravestones morosely. He starts to walk his way over to Al’s tombstone. A little pain from the night before still remains. Suddenly, he hears a voice.

“You know, mom. I met this nice boy in my classroom.” He can make out the words. It’s a young woman’s voice. “He’s handsome too.” She says.

Peter turns his head. It’s Andrea Oyama. The Asian American girl from his AP science class. She’s dressed in black. But she’s alone.

“He’s here now.” She tells the tombstone. “It’s Peter.”

“Excuse me, Andrea.” She turns toward him and gives a friendly smile.

“Hi Peter! Sorry, I was just talking to mom.” She replies. Her voice is more upbeat than Peter’s was talking to his parents.

“It’s no problem.”

“Why don’t you come over here?” She suggests. Peter hesitates, but ultimately decides to approach. The name that appears on her mother’s grave is Naoki Oyama.

“God, what happened to you?” She asks with concern in her eyes.

“I got into a pretty rough fight.” There he goes again. Telling her another half truth.

I’ll probably be doing that a lot. He thinks to himself.

“Must’ve been some fight.”

“You should see the other guy.” Andrea giggles.

“You’re funny. Mom, this is who I was telling you about. This is Peter.”

“Uh, hello, Mrs. Oyama.” He says.

“She says hey back.” Andrea replies with a smile. “Mom thinks you’re handsome too. Even if you do look like you just crawled out of one of these graves.”

“Uh, thanks. I think.”

“You’re welcome. Sorry if I disturbed you. It’s just that when I talk to her out loud it helps me imagine what she’d say back.”

“It’s okay. I talk to my parents too.”

“What do you say?”

“I made a vow.”

“What vow?”

“A secret one.”

“Ooh, a man of mystery. Have you kept your vow?”

“So far.” The two begin to walk away from Andrea’s mom’s tombstone.

“Say, would those injuries have something to do with your secret life?” Peter freezes. “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it.” His face relaxes and they continue walking the cemetery grounds. She’s too polite to prod. But she definitely noticed the way he froze up. “I have a few secrets of my own.”

“Seems like I’m not the only person of mystery here.” Andrea giggles again. It’s faint and sweet.

“Excited for the long weekend?” She asks him. That’s right. Since it was Thanksgiving weekend, they didn’t have to go back to school until Monday. He feels a sense of relief at the reminder. More time to heal.
“Yeah. It’ll be relaxing.”

“That’s for sure. I’m looking forward to not studying for a few days. My dad pushes me so hard sometimes. Dad and I are having Thanksgiving dinner together. Why don’t you and your aunt come over? It’ll be nice.”

“Sure. I’ll be there.”

“Great.” She responds. As they walk, she trips over a rock. Peter is able to catch her by her hand before she falls to the ground. Andrea can feel her heart flutter at the sudden contact. She uses him to pull herself back upward. “You’re a real lifesaver. My dad would kill me if I got my skirt dirty.” Something happens that Peter didn’t expect. He smiles genuinely. Like he can’t help it.

“That’s me. The heroic skirt saver.” Andrea doesn’t pull her hand away. She keeps hers intertwined with Peter’s. Together they continue to walk along the cemetery grounds.

November 28th

Peter walks alone in an empty alleyway at night. His wounds are looking a little better. He’s holding his Spider-Knight costume in his hands. Peter stares at it as he stands in front of a metal trashcan.

This costume has brought me nothing but misery. First, I almost killed one of my peers. Then, I nearly got myself killed jumping off a building. If I keep going like this, how long until I get someone else killed? I don’t need any more blood on my hands. Mine, or someone else’s.

Peter lifts the trashcan lid, and shoves his costume inside.

As of right now, I’m Spider-Knight no more.

Peter walks away from the trashcan. His costume half spilling out from his rushed shoves. But as one era ends, another begins,