Post by Stardrifter on Apr 5, 2015 21:15:27 GMT -5
by
Stardrifter
PREVIOUSLY IN THE SPECTACULAR SCARLET SPIDER!
Ben rushes back to the Morlock home to find mercenaries killing and kidnapping his friends. After dispatching the stragglers, Ben finds himself the only one willing to go after the kidnapped Morlocks.
After tracing the mercenaries back to the Scarab Corporation, Ben infiltrates the building. Alistair Smythe, having finally perfected his cybernetic grafts onto mutant tissue, murders his father and prepares to use the Morlocks to create more cyborgs.
Ben faces down Smythe and his cyborg, resulting in the building catching on fire, and save the taken Morlocks. Outside he meets a young woman who recognizes him, only for his long missing memories to finally resurface. In a daze he travels home, only to find another man wearing his face and his identity, Peter Parker.
Ben rushes back to the Morlock home to find mercenaries killing and kidnapping his friends. After dispatching the stragglers, Ben finds himself the only one willing to go after the kidnapped Morlocks.
After tracing the mercenaries back to the Scarab Corporation, Ben infiltrates the building. Alistair Smythe, having finally perfected his cybernetic grafts onto mutant tissue, murders his father and prepares to use the Morlocks to create more cyborgs.
Ben faces down Smythe and his cyborg, resulting in the building catching on fire, and save the taken Morlocks. Outside he meets a young woman who recognizes him, only for his long missing memories to finally resurface. In a daze he travels home, only to find another man wearing his face and his identity, Peter Parker.
#4 - Secret Identities Part 1: The Man in the Mirror
*continued from Amazing Spider-Man #8*
"GIVE ME BACK MY LIFE!" Peter screams at the abomination in front of him. His rage boiling over after days of living in the sewers, being ostracized amongst the Morlocks, his fight with Smythe and the cyborg, only to now find an impostor living his life. Wearing his face.
"I don-"
Peter smashes his fist down into the impostor's face. His face. He rears back to punch again when the impostor finally fights back, grabbing the sides of Peter's head and pulling him into a headbutt. The momentary disorientation is enough to kick Peter off him.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" the impostor shouts over the torrential downpour.
Wiping blood and rain out of his face, Peter's jaw drops as he watches the impostor's clothes change into a black liquid like substance. It stretches out to cover his entire body, including a mask over his head. It's entirely black save for two stylized white eyes and a white spider symbol around his chest and back.
"I knew it!" Peter screams, his horror confirmed. "What the fuck are you?!" He crawls to his feet, now covered in mud, and lunges toward the impostor.
"I'm Spider-Man!" the impostor says, sidestepping Peter and firing a web from his wrist. He catches Peter in the back and gives a good yank, pulling Peter backward.
Rolling backward with the momentum, Peter jumps to his feet with the webline now in his hands. He turns and pulls at the same time, catching Spider-Man off guard. Peter meets Spider-Man with a hard elbow to the face.
"Spider-Man?" Peter laughs at the cruel absurdity. "Try Emo-Man! Spider-Man doesn't dress in black."
"No," Spider-Man groans, trying to clear his head from the hit. "I suppose in your world, Spider-Man dresses in rags and smells like a dumpster."
As Spider-Man regains his feet, Peter roars and charges at him head first. He lifts the impostor over his shoulder and keeps running, mud and water splashing up in his face. He might have run forever if not for a dormitory wall that appears in his path.
The two combatants crash through a window and a good sized portion of the wall surrounding it. Both men lie in pain on the floor, at first oblivious to the screams around them.
"Holy shit!"
"It's Spider-Man!"
"Quick take my picture!"
"You crazy? Run!"
"Oh look," Spider-Man whispers, his vision upside down as he lies on the floor. "The girls dorm. This is turning into the best fight ever."
Spider-Man raises his head just in time to see Peter's heel coming toward him. He catches it and twists, knocking Peter to the floor. Peter reaches up to rub his head, but Spider-Man reaches over and yanks Peter's hood farther down over his face.
"You're gonna ruin both our lives!" Spider-Man yells before getting kicked in the face.
"It's mine to ruin!"
Peter rolls back and flips up onto his feet. Spider-Man does a similar move and then leaps onto the ceiling to avoid another charge from Peter, who runs into a wall.
Spider-Man sticks his hands to the ceiling and swings his legs down to kick Peter, only to have his legs bear hugged. Peter rips Spider-Man off the ceiling and swings him into the wall.
Before Peter can continue the assault, Spider-Man fires a web into his face. The sticky webbing covers his mouth, nose, and left eye. He reals back, scratching desperately at the web to breathe.
"I am so sick of people like YOU!" Spider-Man shouts, punctuating his words with a punch to Peter's head. "Coming into my LIFE!" Kick. "And trying to mess with my HEAD!" Punch.
Spider-Man grabs Peter by the hoodie and holds him up. Peter finally managed to get the web off his nose. Spider-Man gazes into Peter's one eye, curious at the fury he can see inside it. "From now on, you bad guys are on notice!"
Spider-Man swings around and throws Peter through another wall. Debris flies everywhere, the building shakes in protest.
Wiping his hands off after a job well done, Spider-Man casually strolls over, hops through the giant hole in the wall, and kneels down over Peter's prone body. He grabs his chin and turns his head, inspecting him like a piece of art.
"Gotta say, not a bad job. Coulda fooled me. Wonder who your surgeon I-"
Spider-Man's words stop short when Peter smashes a piece of wood into the back of his head. Before Spider-Man can react he finds himself lying on the floor with Peter kneeling above him.
"It's my life!" Peter shouts through the half torn webbing covering his mouth. He raises a sharpened piece of wood over his head."Give me it back!"
Spider-Man almost laughs at the sight above him. His mirror image about to stake him like a vampire. He tries to move, to react, but can't get over the fog in his head. He continues to struggle until he notices Peter is no longer looking at him, but over him.
"C'mon!" a female voice screams, terrified.
"I can't! Help!"
Spider-Man rolls his head back and sees two women struggling. One is trying to pull the other out from under a pile of debris. He can hear the groaning of the building and doesn't need his Spider Sense to know what's about to happen. "Look..."
In a flash Peter is there. He tosses one woman away and reaches down to free the other. He lifts her up under the arms like a child. He turns to toss her away just in time as the ceiling collapses down around him.
"Get out of here," Spider-Man says as he struggles to his feet. The two women don't respond at first. "Now! Go!"
Clutching each other in fear, of both the building and the black clad hero in front of them, the women flee. Spider-Man rubs the back of his head as he walks over to the pile of rubble.
It's hard to think. Everything's a blur. Now that it's over he feels shell shocked. He stares at the rubble, suddenly unsure how to feel about...whatever it was that attacked him and then saved those women.
"Ugggh..."
The groan is like the crack of a gun, springing Spider-Man out of his head and into action. He rushes over and starts tearing rubble away. "Hold on!"
He frantically clears a path until he finally finds Peter. He's unconscious but breathing. Blood trickles down his nose and over the web covering his mouth. It seems strange to Spider-Man, who reaches down to touch the blood.
"Blood," he mumbles to himself. "Blood!"
He continues to frantically uncover Peter as sirens begin to blare in the distance. Before long he has him free and, after a very quick check for obvious broken bones or injuries, Spider-Man throws Peter over his shoulder and runs out into the night.
****
"Good evening, Mr. Smythe."
Alistair hears the voice but can't focus on it. It's like an echo in the distance, audible but unintelligible. He feels heavy, as if he's sinking into the earth. He struggles to open his eyes, but they won't respond. Nothing will.
"I said no visitors. He's still recovering."
"And I said wake him. I have schedules to keep."
Light. A flash of movement. A burning sensation in...his arm? He can't be sure. Pain shortly follows. Intense pain, all over his body. He begins coughing uncontrollably. His mouth feels warm and tastes metallic.
"I told you to wait! Can you hear me, Alistair?"
"Mmm...I..." Alistair manages to mumble. It takes all his strength to finally open his eyes.
His first sight is an older woman, her gray hair is disheveled, her skin wrinkled and leathery. She shines a light in his eyes, causing him to blink.
"Do you understand me?" she asks. "Do you know what happened?"
"I'm...not sure. I..."
"Leave us."
Alistair looks past the old woman to see a tall man in an expensive indigo suit. He's young, probably mid to late twenties. His blond hair is cropped short and slicked back. He adjusts his glasses as he stares down at his smartphone.
"I need to check his vitals and..."
"I said leave us," the man repeats without looking up from his phone. His voice is monotone, no hint of anger or frustration. Simply an air of authority.
The old woman doesn't object any further. She does a quick check of his IV bag and scurries out of the room. Alistair finally takes in his surroundings. A small hospital room, no indication of which hospital.
"Who are you?" Alistair croaks out, his throat dry. "Where am I?"
The man clicks his phone off and finally looks up, placing his hands behind his back. "My name is Owen Burnett. And you are in a...safe place."
Owen Burnett. Alistair recognizes the name but can't remember from where. "What do you...the lab?"
"Indeed. Quite a mess you made of things. It was a wonder Mr. Xanatos was able to secure you from the authorities."
David Xanatos. That's where he's heard the name. Owen is his right hand man. Alistair scowls. Had he the saliva he'd have spit at him. "Fuck Xanatos! I want nothing to do with him!"
"Clearly," Owen says. His monotone voice makes it impossible to determine if it was a simple observation or sarcasm. "And yet here you are. Mr. Xanatos invested quite a bit into the Scarab Corporation and your work. Despite your actions, he decided you were an investment he was not prepared to lose. Yet."
The punctuation of his last word isn't lost on Alistair. His head still clearing from being sedated, he starts to appreciate his situation. He'd be dead if not for Xanatos, and he's hardly in a position to resist for the time being. "So what does your master want from me?"
Owen doesn't react to the jab. He simply walks over to sit next to Alistair's bed. "We were able to recover some of your files from the fire. Despite your actions, your work was a success. It merely needs refinement...and control."
Alistair smirks and turns away, resting his eyes. "And now I'm to work for Xanatos. Or what?"
"To the rest of the world, you perished in the fire. You no longer exist. Your employees have been silenced. An unfortunate accident that claimed the life of a loving father and son."
Alistair scoffs at the idea. That his father is finally gone is one of the few good things to come out of this entire experience.
Owen leans in, his voice somehow even sterner. "Your actions led to millions in damages. You will now work off that debt."
"Or Xanatos will kill a dead man?" Alistair laughs, finding a strange delight in all this. "Fine. Whatever. I'll play his game. For now."
Suddenly the sound of Owen's phone interrupts them. He stands up and walks to the foot of Alistair's bed before answering it. "Yes. Indeed? Much sooner than expected. We'll have to speed up our time tables. Of course. Have we pinpointed their location? At once."
Owen ends the call and turns back toward Alistair. "I don't think you fully appreciate your situation, Mr. Smythe. You have a problem with authority. You don't play by the rules. You do things your way, laws of God and men be damned. Well that simply won't work any more. When it comes to defying Xanatos, I'm afraid you don't have a leg to stand on."
Owen offers what Alistair assumes is a smile by his standards before walking out. It's a strange thing and it unnerves him. Despite his bravado moments ago, Alistair finds himself suddenly feeling worried. A heavy weight wells up in the pit of his stomach.
"Nurse!" Alistair shouts as loud as he can muster. "Doctor! Anybody!"
When no one answers, Alistair tries to sit up. Pain wracks his body and he grabs his abdomen. Bending at the waist not being an option, he moves to swing his legs over the side of the bed.
"What?" Alistair shouts, confusion setting in. He tries again to swing his legs and...nothing. "No no no no no no!"
He reaches down and throws the blanket off his legs. They're there, but they won't move. He reaches down to touch them. Nothing. No feeling. Nothing. Nothing.
"NOOOOOOO!"
****
"Rise and shine, Peter! Time for school!"
Peter struggles to open his eyes and raise his head. His neck aches from sleeping sitting up. He tries to raise his hand to rub his neck only to find himself restrained.
"What the hell?" Peter shouts. He looks down and finds himself webbed, chest to ankle, to a chair. Sitting across from him, peering into a microscope, is Spider-Man, still clad in his black suit. "Let me g-"
Spider-Man rolls his stool over and places his hand on Peter's mouth. "Shh! You want to get us caught? Keep quiet or I'll web your mouth too."
Peter nods his understanding and Spider-Man lowers his hand. "Where are we? What are you doing to me?"
Spider-Man cocks his head to the side before turning back to the microscope. "If you were really Peter Parker you'd know." He waits for a response, but Peter offers none. "This is one of the science labs at ESU."
Peter tries his best to stretch his neck. "Running tests? I'll admit it's what I'd do, but you're not fooling anyone. We both know I'm Peter Parker!"
Spider-Man sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what to believe anymore. Tests are still preliminary, but I can't tell any difference between our blood so far. Granted biology isn't my expertise."
Peter remains silent, unsure what to make of Spider-Man's admission. He knows he is the real Peter, but perhaps this impostor doesn't know he is one. Peter groans and throws his head back. What sense would that make? What purpose could there be to someone posing as him who doesn't even know he's fake?
"Tell me," Spider-Man says as he swivels back toward Peter. "What's the last thing you remember?"
"Huh?"
"The last thing you remember. Before your life was supposedly stolen."
"Well I..." Peter starts, uncertain what to say. Some things are still fuzzy in his mind. "The last thing I remember...I was fighting the Lizard. Dr. Connors. We were fighting in Time Square. I was trying so hard to keep him away from the crowd..."
Peter looks up into the emotionless white eyes of Spider-Man's mask, unsure what he's thinking. "And then I don't know! I blacked out or something. Next thing I know I'm running through the sewers under New York City."
"How long ago was that?" Spider-Man asks. "That you found yourself in the sewers?"
"It's been a week or so. Why?"
"Well that fight with the Lizard was six months ago. So say you're right and you are the real Peter, where were you for almost six months?"
"I. Don't. Know," Peter says through gritted teeth. "Whoever you are, or whoever you work for or created you or whatever. They must have kept me captive."
"Hmm," is all Spider-Man offers, leaning back against the table to think.
"You know you're awfully calm about this!" Peter erupts. "You seem to be taking this in stride. Not a care in the world! Not the least bit suspicious!"
"Oh I care plenty. But I've seen some things you wouldn't believe in the last six months. For me, this isn't as far fetched as you might imagine."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Let's just say you aren't the first me I've met." When Peter just offers a quizzical look, Spider-Man adds, "Alternate dimensions. It was a thing."
"Oh so now I'm Mirror Peter Parker?" Peter scoffs. "Where's my goatee?"
"We can't grow a goatee," Spider-Man mumbles.
"Yeah," Peter says in a defeated tone. "Sucks."
The two stare at each other for a moment before uncontrollable laughter erupts from both of them. It takes a minute for them to catch their breath, but when they do, it's as if a heavy weight has lifted from them both.
"So what now?" Peter asks, trying hard to fight down some remaining giggles. "What do we do? We don't trust each other. We have no leads to follow. You gonna keep me tied up forever?"
Rubbing the back of his head, Spider-Man sighs and says, "I have no idea. Could you get us back to where you were first running in the sewer? It's a long shot but maybe..."
"I couldn't, no," Peter explains. "But I have some friends that I'm sure could."
"Friends?"
"You're not the only one who has had a life," Peter offers a wry smile. "Sucks not knowing what 'you've' been up to, huh?"
Biting his tongue, Spider-Man rolls his stool over and starts snapping the webbing around Peter's arms. It's a slow process that is suddenly interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing.
"What the..." Spider-Man mumbles as he stops helping Peter to go for his cell phone lying on the table. "Who'd be calling me at two A.M.?"
The caller ID says Private. Spider-Man hesitates before finally answering. "Hello?"
"Hello, Mr. Parker," a man replies. His voice is stiff and monotone. "I believe you are in search of answers."
"Answers?" Spider-Man asks, too suspicious to say more.
"To your identities. If you don't mind putting me on speaker so the other Peter can hear as well."
Spider-Man jerks his head to look at Peter, who is struggling with the webbing himself now that his arms are free. "I don't..."
"Please, Mr. Parker. I am on a schedule here. If the two of you want answers, do as I ask."
"All right, you're on speaker," Spider-Man says in a cold voice. Peter looks up, confused about what's going on.
"Thank you. Can you hear me as well, Mr. Parker?"
Peter gives Spider-Man a quizzical look and gets only a shrug in return. "Uh, yeah I'm here. Who are you?"
"If the two of you want answers, you'll want to speak to a Dr. Anton Sevarius."
"Why?" Peter asks.
"Who?" Spider-Man says at the same time.
"I'm not here to answer your questions, I'm afraid. Just point you in the right direction. Dr. Anton Sevarius. Good luck."
The call ends abruptly. Spider-Man and Peter stare at each other for a moment, unsure what to say. More is going on than they realized.
"Well?" Peter finally asks.
"Well what?"
"Google him!" Peter shouts, moving back to freeing himself from the webbing. "Let's go."
"You do realize this could be a trap?" Spider-Man mutters, looking up the information anyway. "A very obvious, curly mustached super villain trap."
Finally free, Peter stands up and stretches. "Well if it's so obvious, then the last thing they'd expect would be for us to walk right into it."
"God that is so something I would say," Spider-Man says, shaking his head. "All right, got it! Let's go!"
The two start to head for the door before Spider-Man turns back. He looks Peter up and down and says, "But first we need to make a pit stop."
****
The rain has finally died down as two Spider-Men swing across the New York City skyline. Peter, now clad in the original Spider-Man costume, finds a sense of freedom he hasn't felt in a long time as he swings and leaps from building to building. He had no idea how much he missed this.
The two finally land on top of a billboard advertising The Pack tv show and scope out the nearby skyscraper.
"Dr. Sevarius supposedly lives in one of those corner penthouses," Spider-Man says.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah," Peter mumbles, slightly distracted. "You don't happen to have a spare black outfit, do you? I mean, I love my costume. I made it. But..."
"Heh, nope this here is one of a kind. I think."
"I suppose it's another long story?" Peter asks, frustrated. "What is it, some alien goo that fell from the sky?"
Spider-Man doesn't bother to reply, instead he swings off toward the skyscraper. Peter follows suit, having a hard time not feeling like a kid playing dress up instead of a super hero.
The two check out two penthouses before finding Dr. Sevarius in the third. The doctor is resting in a antique chair, reading a large book in his study. Possibly strange behavior for an older man at three in the morning.
The two check the place for open windows. One of the windows in kitchen conveniently gives them access.
"Okay," Spider-Man whispers as they hunch down in the living room. "Now let's play this nice and easy. There could be bad guys hidden anywhere. You wait..."
"Hey, just watch my back!" Peter slaps Spider-Man on the shoulder and rushes toward the door to the study. He gives it a hearty push, slamming the door into the wall and startling the doctor. "Good evening, Dr. Anton Sevarius!"
"What? What the...what is the meaning..." Sevarius stutters with a thick British accent. He leaps out of his chair and holds his hands out defensively. An older man in his late sixties, Sevarius' hair is more white than red now, and shoots out in every direction. He stands with a slight hunch in his back.
"No need to be startled," Peter says, leaping over the back and into Sevarius' now empty chair. "We just came to ask a couple questions."
"W-We?" Sevarius stutters, confused. He turns to see Spider-Man walk slowly in the room, shaking his head. "Spider-Man? Two...Spider-Men?"
"Yeah, we were kinda hoping you might be able to help us with that," Peter says, resting his cheek on his fist and looking up at Sevarius.
"I don't..."
"Look, Dr. Sevarius," Spider-Man finally chimes in. "What my overeager...colleague here is trying to say, is that we heard you might have some information we need." Spider-Man strolls over and leans up against the desk sitting behind Sevarius. "Now it's late, we're all tired, so tell us. Did we hear right or not?"
"I don't know, I," Sevarius mutters, looking back and forth between the two men. "I'm just a scientist I-"
"Look, grandpa!" Peter shouts, jumping to his feet and grabbing the doctor by his robe. "We don't have time for these games! Either man up and start talking or..."
Peter lets the silence sit for a moment. Sevarius turns to looks at Spider-Man, who simply says, "Hey, don't look at me. He's old school Spider-Man."
"Old school," Peter says, tilting his head. "Know what I'm sayin'?"
Spider-Man puts a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Sevarius doesn't notice, his eyes glued to Peter's goggles.
"All right!" Sevarius shouts, throwing his hands up. Peter lets his grip get pushed away. "All right, I do know what's going on." He straightens out his robe and walks around his desk. The frightened, helpless old man from moments ago is replaced by the scholarly, confident scientist. He sits down at his desk, rests his elbows on it, and folds his hands in front of his face. "So go ahead, ask your questions."
The two men look at each other, unsure what to say after the sudden change in Sevarius. Finally, Spider-Man says, trying not to give anything away, "So why are there two of us?"
"Two of you?" Sevarius asks, a slanted smile on his face. "You mean two Spider-Men? Or two of the SAME Spider-Man?"
Peter and Spider-Man look at each other, unsure how to proceed. Before they can reply, Sevarius says, "Yes you are the same person, after a fashion. The result of nearly a decade of scientific research and months of painstaking work."
"Scientific..." Spider-Man mutters.
"Of course," Sevarius grins. "What else did you expect?"
Peter stares past Sevarius. "So you mean..."
"Clones. Yes, indeed."
The two take a step back and stare at each other. Neither willing to speak the obvious question. The tension is palpable as Spider-Man and Peter stare at each other's masks, both trying to cling to some inkling of truth to who they really are.
Sensing the tension and possible hostility in the room, Sevarius rises out of his chair. "Of course, I cannot take credit for the entirety of this monumental scientific breakthrough. I am merely one member of the team, and not even the lead." He walks around the desk to stand next to them, making sure not to go in between them. "But I must say I am pleased by the results nonetheless. To think that-"
"Which one?" Peter finally asks through gritted teeth.
"Which one?" Sevarius asks, eyebrow raised.
"Which one of us is the..." Spider-Man can't even bring himself to say the word.
"My dear boys," Sevarius chuckles. "For all you know, you could both be clones. After all-"
"WHO?" both shout in unison, looking ready to charge at Sevarius like a pack of wolves.
"All right," Sevarius says, holding his hands up. He turns to look at Spider-Man. "I assume correctly you are the one who has been in the news lately? The one working for Osborn?"
"What?" Peter interrupts. "Working for Osborn? What the-"
"It's a long story," Spider-Man cuts him off, holding a hand up.
"Well then, good. I'm happy to say, you are the original." Sevarius turns to look at Peter, his expression suddenly sad. Even pitiful. "I'm sorry my boy, but you are the clone."
The words echo in Peter's ears. He feels like the floor is falling out from underneath him. He starts to sway, his legs giving out, when Spider-Man rushes over and tries to catch him. As soon as he touches Peter, rage wells up inside him. He shoves Spider-Man off him so hard he flies back into a bookcase, knocking several shelves down.
"NOOOO!" Peter screams, leaping at Sevarius. He throws the doctor on top of the desk with such force that it slides back along the floor. Peter's hands wrap themselves around Sevarius' neck, and it takes all his willpower to keep from squeezing.
"It's not true! I know who I am! I remember who I am! I remember my parents! My uncle and aunt! My first day at school! The first time I rode a bike! It happened! All of it! I was there! You...you can't...you..."
Tears begin flowing, causing his goggles to fog up. Peter reaches up and tears them off his face. Spider-Man finally gets up and starts to walk over, but Peter turns and gives him a glare that stops him in his tracks. The look in Peter's eyes tells him that at this very moment he could be capable of anything.
"Your memories are...an unexpected side effect," Sevarius explains, struggling in vain to take Peter's hands off his throat. "We wanted to create a fully formed clone with no memories that could be shaped into what we needed, but somehow you had all the memories up to the point the genetic sample was taken. Perhaps some form of genetic memory we've never dreamt possible. I don't know. We were going to try to erase those memories when-"
"WHO?" Peter shouts, tightening his grip on the doctor. "Who are 'we'?"
Sevarius laughs as well as a man with super strong hands around his throat can. Rather than look at Peter, he turns toward Spider-Man. "Who? Who do you think? Who knows that Peter Parker is Spider-Man? Who has the resources, will, and desire to create a mindless clone of Spider-Man?"
Spider-Man's eyes go wide underneath his mask. Now it's his turn to find his legs weak. He stumbles back until he reaches the bookshelf again. Staring off at the floor, he whispers, "Osborn."
-To Be Continued-