-InsomniCat-
Spider-Man: Issue 10 “Recovery" - Vigilante 6/6
Peter’s body wailed in pain as he glanced at the first aid kit sitting next to him. He looked down at his blood-soaked bandages on various places of his body. Shutting his eyes, he contemplated the situation he had just faced. Nothing had pushed him to his limits both physically and mentally in his entire career. With this thought, he fought against the exhaustion and his eyes opened slowly, peering at his now torn red and blue suit.
Peter Parker: Thank god it's Saturday…not looking forward to pricking myself with a needle while sewing… I don’t need to lose any more of my precious Spider-Blood.
And with those words, Peter gradually drifted off…
Peter was once again awake, feeling as if dozing off was just a few moments ago. Beams of sunlight crackled through his window, warmed his face, and created oblong shadows in his room. His eyes wandered around until he found what he was looking for and shot a web. When it attached to its target, he flicked his wrist and prompted the TV remote to come sailing towards him. The plastic made a slight smack when it landed into the palm of his hand, and he pressed the power button. The TV flared to life, landing on a channel playing some godforsaken modern cartoon about five colorfully clad teenagers. He quickly pressed two familiar buttons and was now staring at what he would probably consider being a more horrific sight than the last.
JJJ: Thank you, Eddie…
JJJ flips a paper
JJJ: Alright folks, some breaking news. Recently, the criminal dubbed as “The Vigilante” by most police officers and civilians has been captured by that menace and threat to society as we know it, Spider-Man.
Peter almost reeled back in shock, he still wasn’t used to the fact that the police were giving him credit after trying to kill him for years.
JJJ: Now, some of you may be saying “Well Jonah, isn’t that a GOOOOOD thing?” or “We certainly don’t want murderers on the loose”. And to that I say, yes, we don’t want murderers on the streets. Especially international, world-renowned hunters of various animals.
JJJ clears his throat
JJJ: As I have always done, I will keep my opinions to myself about Mr. Kravinoff’s testimony.
Peter almost busted out laughing at the completely inaccurate statement. A snort substituted the outburst, but even that caused his body to roar in agony.
JJJ: But, I will not hold my tongue about Spider-Man. Ladies and gentlemen...we cannot have this menace running amok in our city. Yes, I’m not blind to blatant and truthful information. Spider-Man did indeed stop Mr. Kravinoff. But how long did it take him? Three weeks. Three weeks, I tell you! Had our heroic boys in blue. No, excuse me. Men and women in blue had the opportunity to do their jobs...and not wait for that slacker Spider-Man…maybe it would’ve gotten done sooner. Well, that’s enough of my two cents. It’s time for our caller por-
Peter turned the TV off and sighed, then coughed. His body still ached.
Peter Parker: Why do I keep listening to that garbage? Better question, why do I work for that garbage? Sometimes, I can’t believe I do what I do. I basically run in circles like a puppy. Not to mention, Jonah is going to be royally pissed when no one has any photos of the incident.
Peter slowly slides out of bed and winces. Just as he touches the door handle his phone buzzes. He shimmies back over and picks up his phone.
Peter Parker: Captain Stacy?
The text reads: Spider-Man, I know you told me to not thank you for what you do, but I must. Without you, our department would have been scrambling for weeks… Hell, even months without your help. So no matter what that idiot Jameson says, just remember you have mine and (most) of the departments' support. -Your friend, George Stacy
Peter chuckles at the benevolence of the kind-hearted officer. He then looks at his suit, torn and blood-stained in several places and shakes his head, then looks down at his body, to which reveal the matching wounds. He reaches in his desk drawer and pulls out a thread and needle.
Peter, sighing: Time to start more of my bloodshed. Just a little less panic, and a little more precision.
Spider-Man: Issue 10 “Recovery" - Vigilante 6/6
Peter’s body wailed in pain as he glanced at the first aid kit sitting next to him. He looked down at his blood-soaked bandages on various places of his body. Shutting his eyes, he contemplated the situation he had just faced. Nothing had pushed him to his limits both physically and mentally in his entire career. With this thought, he fought against the exhaustion and his eyes opened slowly, peering at his now torn red and blue suit.
Peter Parker: Thank god it's Saturday…not looking forward to pricking myself with a needle while sewing… I don’t need to lose any more of my precious Spider-Blood.
And with those words, Peter gradually drifted off…
Peter was once again awake, feeling as if dozing off was just a few moments ago. Beams of sunlight crackled through his window, warmed his face, and created oblong shadows in his room. His eyes wandered around until he found what he was looking for and shot a web. When it attached to its target, he flicked his wrist and prompted the TV remote to come sailing towards him. The plastic made a slight smack when it landed into the palm of his hand, and he pressed the power button. The TV flared to life, landing on a channel playing some godforsaken modern cartoon about five colorfully clad teenagers. He quickly pressed two familiar buttons and was now staring at what he would probably consider being a more horrific sight than the last.
JJJ: Thank you, Eddie…
JJJ flips a paper
JJJ: Alright folks, some breaking news. Recently, the criminal dubbed as “The Vigilante” by most police officers and civilians has been captured by that menace and threat to society as we know it, Spider-Man.
Peter almost reeled back in shock, he still wasn’t used to the fact that the police were giving him credit after trying to kill him for years.
JJJ: Now, some of you may be saying “Well Jonah, isn’t that a GOOOOOD thing?” or “We certainly don’t want murderers on the loose”. And to that I say, yes, we don’t want murderers on the streets. Especially international, world-renowned hunters of various animals.
JJJ clears his throat
JJJ: As I have always done, I will keep my opinions to myself about Mr. Kravinoff’s testimony.
Peter almost busted out laughing at the completely inaccurate statement. A snort substituted the outburst, but even that caused his body to roar in agony.
JJJ: But, I will not hold my tongue about Spider-Man. Ladies and gentlemen...we cannot have this menace running amok in our city. Yes, I’m not blind to blatant and truthful information. Spider-Man did indeed stop Mr. Kravinoff. But how long did it take him? Three weeks. Three weeks, I tell you! Had our heroic boys in blue. No, excuse me. Men and women in blue had the opportunity to do their jobs...and not wait for that slacker Spider-Man…maybe it would’ve gotten done sooner. Well, that’s enough of my two cents. It’s time for our caller por-
Peter turned the TV off and sighed, then coughed. His body still ached.
Peter Parker: Why do I keep listening to that garbage? Better question, why do I work for that garbage? Sometimes, I can’t believe I do what I do. I basically run in circles like a puppy. Not to mention, Jonah is going to be royally pissed when no one has any photos of the incident.
Peter slowly slides out of bed and winces. Just as he touches the door handle his phone buzzes. He shimmies back over and picks up his phone.
Peter Parker: Captain Stacy?
The text reads: Spider-Man, I know you told me to not thank you for what you do, but I must. Without you, our department would have been scrambling for weeks… Hell, even months without your help. So no matter what that idiot Jameson says, just remember you have mine and (most) of the departments' support. -Your friend, George Stacy
Peter chuckles at the benevolence of the kind-hearted officer. He then looks at his suit, torn and blood-stained in several places and shakes his head, then looks down at his body, to which reveal the matching wounds. He reaches in his desk drawer and pulls out a thread and needle.
Peter, sighing: Time to start more of my bloodshed. Just a little less panic, and a little more precision.