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Spider-Man: Book of Revelation (Part 3)
Galatians 6:1 – “Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted.”
Peter dropped down from his vantage point and onto the ground, landing a mere six inches away from his adversary. Still, Fisk’s face remained unchanged, a cold stone statue that was as lifeless as the very midnight sky. The two now stood by the crime lord’s desk, surrounded by strips of the office’s foggy glass windowpanes and other wealthy looking paraphernalia, a scene that could indeed be described as picturesque had it not been for their current circumstances. With all of Manhattan’s buildings lighting up the space around them, it was surreal to Peter. It felt like his entire life was building up to this one moment, face to face with his tormentor as all time around them stopped. It was as if the epicenter of the universe spawned in on their location and gravity was fixed onto Peter’s shoulders, burdened with incomprehensible tasks. The words began to form in his head; they would be the first shots that would be fired in this all too personal quest for truth. As he began to open his mouth he was unexpectedly cut off by Wilson Fisk who somehow always managed to be a step ahead of everyone that he encountered.
“Leave now vigilante and you might still get out alive,” Fisk spoke, his voice soothing yet his words intimidating.
Peter would not be scared off so easily however. Standing up taller, he met Fisk’s gaze and said,
“I am here to find out the truth about the death of Ben Parker.”
Fisk walked behind his desk, sliding his finger across the edge while Peter was talking. The crime boss seemed to be stumbling to find something, which Peter believed to be a button linked to an alarm. But upon hearing the name “Ben Parker,” the Kingpin’s arm froze and his eyes rolled toward the floor. He seemed to have had a sudden weakness in his legs as well for he lost an inch in height and rested his hand on the large chair behind him.
“How do you know that name?” he asked, trying to make his way back to his feet.
He was met with the solemn answer, “he was my best friend.”
Suddenly a cold sweat overcame Fisk and tears formed in Peter’s eyes. Neither person spoke for a long period of time. An awkward stiffness built in the room only to be torn down by time. Fisk needed to be in control of the situation again so once the tension eased he spoke first, his voice like a sharp blade cutting into the silence.
“Heed my words child; this is a dangerous business. Leave now and you may not succumb into the hellhole that is this city.”
“And why should I?” asked Spider-Man, “why is New York’s most notorious crime boss warning the peasant who wishes to dethrone him?”
“Because Ben Parker’s death was never intentional. He was never the target.”
And with those words Fisk proceeded to press the button under his desk, triggering a loud blaring of alarms heard throughout the entire floor. Within only a few seconds two New York Police Department officers busted through the double doors, their guns locked on Spider-Man. They must have been stationed right outside.
Without hesitation Peter shot a web out the shattered window from which he came, trying to avoid confrontation with the corrupt peacekeeping officials that Fisk keeps in his pocket. The web stuck onto a nearby building and with a quick tug Spider-Man began to be driven out of the office. However, to his surprise the web snapped, seemingly cut, leading Peter to stumble and fall face first onto one of the office’s rugs dusted with snowflakes. Although the rug was made of a thick and high-quality cotton, the granite floor underneath absorbed the brunt of the fall.
Still on the ground, he crawled some feet closer to the broken window, poked his head out into the blizzard and looked down. From there he saw a woman with long flowing black hair dressed in a highly revealing red outfit holding two sais on the balcony below, his web residue on one of her blades. She was Caucasian and seemed to be in her mid twenties, not showing a single sign of aging or discomfort from the cold. Her presence was somehow even more unnerving than the Kingpin’s.
Seeing that she was about to jump toward him, Peter rose up to his feet and eased back into the room some inches closer to the Kingpin’s desk. With one hand he gripped onto the edge of the table and much like a toddler gripping onto his mother’s skirt he felt oddly comforted as he did so. Looking around he saw that every window in the office, besides the pivotal shattered one, now had a corrupt police officer placed firmly in front of it, silently imported while he was distracted by the female assailant. These guards must have not been too far behind the first two who were now stationed at the doors. They were still ajar, but he couldn’t risk rushing towards them as his way out, who knows what other horrors lurk in the floors of Fisk Tower. His means of escape were limited and were soon cut down to impossible when the woman in red climbed up to the shattered window and onto his level. Taking cues from the uniformed officers she stood in front of her own window, the broken one, and managed to crack a slight smile toward Peter. The perimeter of the floor was now sealed.
Peter felt helpless and turned to his coping mechanism of comedy. He managed to find slight amusement out of any situation he was in, able to create a more liberating atmosphere, something that helped him more times than he could remember. Putting his technique to use, he whispered toward Fisk, rather loudly to increase comedic effect, “psst, Kevin James. Don’t look now, but Megan Fox is in your office.”
Fisk chuckled insincerely like a true businessman.
“I see that you’ve met Elektra,” he said. “Greek orphan turned brutal assassin. One of the greatest investments I’ve made. She has truly done wonders for this company.”
“Greek eh?” asked Spider-Man intrigued. Turning to her this time he said, “you guys are really doing wonders for the global economy.”
Expecting a pity laugh like from the Kingpin, Elektra instead stared at him with cold unblinking eyes.
“Don’t fret arachnid,” called out Fisk. “It’s a tough room. You know how foreigners feel about American jokes. Besides, she and the guards are only here to ensure that nothing goes awry with your presence here. I was actually hoping that you would make it to my neck of the woods one of these days as we have much to discuss. I apologize for that alarm before; it was only to call in Captain Stacy and Sergeant Carter of the NYPD precinct 98. I call them in before every meeting as bodyguards of sorts. Forgive me, I should have informed you first. Regarding the topic of Ben Parker, feel free to ask me anything you wish. There is nothing to hide."
----------------------------------------
Not too bad of a photo.
Really digging these backgrounds a lot. :)
I'm really liking this "chapter" as well. As always, I go for realism in my stories, so I wanted to ease into the comedic aspect of Spider-Man, because let's face it, no matter who you are, nobody (especially not a minor) cracks jokes while they're worrying about dying at any second.
SO… thats that, hope you enjoyed the issue. :)
Spider-Man: Book of Revelation (Part 3)
Galatians 6:1 – “Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted.”
Peter dropped down from his vantage point and onto the ground, landing a mere six inches away from his adversary. Still, Fisk’s face remained unchanged, a cold stone statue that was as lifeless as the very midnight sky. The two now stood by the crime lord’s desk, surrounded by strips of the office’s foggy glass windowpanes and other wealthy looking paraphernalia, a scene that could indeed be described as picturesque had it not been for their current circumstances. With all of Manhattan’s buildings lighting up the space around them, it was surreal to Peter. It felt like his entire life was building up to this one moment, face to face with his tormentor as all time around them stopped. It was as if the epicenter of the universe spawned in on their location and gravity was fixed onto Peter’s shoulders, burdened with incomprehensible tasks. The words began to form in his head; they would be the first shots that would be fired in this all too personal quest for truth. As he began to open his mouth he was unexpectedly cut off by Wilson Fisk who somehow always managed to be a step ahead of everyone that he encountered.
“Leave now vigilante and you might still get out alive,” Fisk spoke, his voice soothing yet his words intimidating.
Peter would not be scared off so easily however. Standing up taller, he met Fisk’s gaze and said,
“I am here to find out the truth about the death of Ben Parker.”
Fisk walked behind his desk, sliding his finger across the edge while Peter was talking. The crime boss seemed to be stumbling to find something, which Peter believed to be a button linked to an alarm. But upon hearing the name “Ben Parker,” the Kingpin’s arm froze and his eyes rolled toward the floor. He seemed to have had a sudden weakness in his legs as well for he lost an inch in height and rested his hand on the large chair behind him.
“How do you know that name?” he asked, trying to make his way back to his feet.
He was met with the solemn answer, “he was my best friend.”
Suddenly a cold sweat overcame Fisk and tears formed in Peter’s eyes. Neither person spoke for a long period of time. An awkward stiffness built in the room only to be torn down by time. Fisk needed to be in control of the situation again so once the tension eased he spoke first, his voice like a sharp blade cutting into the silence.
“Heed my words child; this is a dangerous business. Leave now and you may not succumb into the hellhole that is this city.”
“And why should I?” asked Spider-Man, “why is New York’s most notorious crime boss warning the peasant who wishes to dethrone him?”
“Because Ben Parker’s death was never intentional. He was never the target.”
And with those words Fisk proceeded to press the button under his desk, triggering a loud blaring of alarms heard throughout the entire floor. Within only a few seconds two New York Police Department officers busted through the double doors, their guns locked on Spider-Man. They must have been stationed right outside.
Without hesitation Peter shot a web out the shattered window from which he came, trying to avoid confrontation with the corrupt peacekeeping officials that Fisk keeps in his pocket. The web stuck onto a nearby building and with a quick tug Spider-Man began to be driven out of the office. However, to his surprise the web snapped, seemingly cut, leading Peter to stumble and fall face first onto one of the office’s rugs dusted with snowflakes. Although the rug was made of a thick and high-quality cotton, the granite floor underneath absorbed the brunt of the fall.
Still on the ground, he crawled some feet closer to the broken window, poked his head out into the blizzard and looked down. From there he saw a woman with long flowing black hair dressed in a highly revealing red outfit holding two sais on the balcony below, his web residue on one of her blades. She was Caucasian and seemed to be in her mid twenties, not showing a single sign of aging or discomfort from the cold. Her presence was somehow even more unnerving than the Kingpin’s.
Seeing that she was about to jump toward him, Peter rose up to his feet and eased back into the room some inches closer to the Kingpin’s desk. With one hand he gripped onto the edge of the table and much like a toddler gripping onto his mother’s skirt he felt oddly comforted as he did so. Looking around he saw that every window in the office, besides the pivotal shattered one, now had a corrupt police officer placed firmly in front of it, silently imported while he was distracted by the female assailant. These guards must have not been too far behind the first two who were now stationed at the doors. They were still ajar, but he couldn’t risk rushing towards them as his way out, who knows what other horrors lurk in the floors of Fisk Tower. His means of escape were limited and were soon cut down to impossible when the woman in red climbed up to the shattered window and onto his level. Taking cues from the uniformed officers she stood in front of her own window, the broken one, and managed to crack a slight smile toward Peter. The perimeter of the floor was now sealed.
Peter felt helpless and turned to his coping mechanism of comedy. He managed to find slight amusement out of any situation he was in, able to create a more liberating atmosphere, something that helped him more times than he could remember. Putting his technique to use, he whispered toward Fisk, rather loudly to increase comedic effect, “psst, Kevin James. Don’t look now, but Megan Fox is in your office.”
Fisk chuckled insincerely like a true businessman.
“I see that you’ve met Elektra,” he said. “Greek orphan turned brutal assassin. One of the greatest investments I’ve made. She has truly done wonders for this company.”
“Greek eh?” asked Spider-Man intrigued. Turning to her this time he said, “you guys are really doing wonders for the global economy.”
Expecting a pity laugh like from the Kingpin, Elektra instead stared at him with cold unblinking eyes.
“Don’t fret arachnid,” called out Fisk. “It’s a tough room. You know how foreigners feel about American jokes. Besides, she and the guards are only here to ensure that nothing goes awry with your presence here. I was actually hoping that you would make it to my neck of the woods one of these days as we have much to discuss. I apologize for that alarm before; it was only to call in Captain Stacy and Sergeant Carter of the NYPD precinct 98. I call them in before every meeting as bodyguards of sorts. Forgive me, I should have informed you first. Regarding the topic of Ben Parker, feel free to ask me anything you wish. There is nothing to hide."
----------------------------------------
Not too bad of a photo.
Really digging these backgrounds a lot. :)
I'm really liking this "chapter" as well. As always, I go for realism in my stories, so I wanted to ease into the comedic aspect of Spider-Man, because let's face it, no matter who you are, nobody (especially not a minor) cracks jokes while they're worrying about dying at any second.
SO… thats that, hope you enjoyed the issue. :)