Chapter 12: A Call For Help

The night air was thick with the stench of smoke and the distant wail of sirens, an ever-present reminder of the chaos the Green Goblin had caused. Peter stood at the edge of the ruined square, his fists clenched, his body tense with fury. The city had become a battlefield of emotions, and the Goblin, as always, had managed to twist the knife even deeper.

The Green Goblin's laughter echoed down from the rooftop of a nearby building, an unsettling sound that sent shivers down Peter's spine. The Goblin was savoring every second of his torment.

"Spider-Man," the Goblin sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "Look at what you've done. Look at all the pain you've caused. This city is a reflection of your weakness. And all of this, everything, happened because of you."

Peter gritted his teeth and fought to control the surge of anger rising in him. He had no time for this. The city still needed him. There were still people to save, still families to protect. But the Goblin was relentless.

"You remember Gwen, don't you?" The Goblin's voice cut through the darkness, twisting the air with its venomous edge. "Poor, sweet Gwen Stacy. All it took was a little push... a little nudge, and she was gone. And you... you couldn't save her. You failed her, Spider-Man. And you always will."

The words were like poison, seeping into Peter's mind. Gwen's face flashed before his eyes, the helpless look in her eyes as she fell. The sickening snap as the whiplash of her fall killed her in his arms. His fault. His failure. He should have done more. He should have saved her.

The Green Goblin laughed again, this time louder, mocking Peter's anguish. "That's right, Spider-Man. You couldn't save her. And you couldn't save your little girl either. Mayday. Such a tiny thing. And still, you failed her too."

The memory hit Peter like a hammer. Mayday. His daughter. He had never even had the chance to hold her in his arms. The Goblin had taken that from him, smothering her with a pillow the moment she was born. Peter had felt her loss like a black hole in his chest, a weight that never left him. He had never even seen her smile, never heard her laugh. And it was all because of Osborn.

"You know," the Goblin continued, his voice almost gentle now, as though he were sharing a secret, "I did it so easily. It was almost too easy. A little pressure on the pillow, and she was gone. No struggle. No fight. Just... silence. And now, she's nothing more than a memory. Your daughter. Your failure. You let them both die. And now you're left alone, Spider-Man. No one to save. No one to love."

Peter's fists trembled, his rage bubbling beneath the surface. The guilt, the self-loathing, it was all coming back in full force. Every ounce of blame, every piece of his shattered soul, screamed in protest. It's your fault. It's all your fault.

"Why don't you just give up already, Parker?" the Goblin taunted. "You're not a hero. You're just a broken man. A shell of who you once were. You have no purpose. No future. You're just... done."

Peter closed his eyes, trying to shut out the Goblin's voice, but the words still echoed in his mind. He couldn't escape them. The memories. The guilt. It was suffocating. And Osborn knew it.

Peter's breathing was ragged, his chest heaving with the weight of the endless turmoil within him. The Goblin's words had pierced him to his core, reopening wounds he had tried to bury beneath his resolve. Gwen. Mayday. It was all his fault. The twisted part of him that had once been the hero was barely hanging on, battered by the onslaught of Osborn's cruel, biting words. And yet, in the depths of his anguish, a feral rage began to take hold. He could hear Osborn's laughter still echoing in the air, taunting him, goading him to the brink of madness.

"Shut up!" Peter roared, his voice filled with a guttural fury that shattered the silence of the ruined square.

Without warning, he sprang into motion, launching himself through the air with the force of a storm. His fist met the Goblin's glider with a sickening thud, sending the machine spiraling, but Osborn was already in motion, nimble and quick. He kicked Peter in the chest, sending him crashing into the side of a nearby building. The concrete wall splintered beneath his impact, but Peter's spider-sense was already alert, and he was on his feet again, his body burning with pain, but his fury kept him moving.

"You think you can beat me?" Osborn's voice was thick with amusement, as though this were some sort of game. "You can't even save the people you love! What makes you think you can stop me?"

Peter's fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. The symbiote that wrapped around his body flared, rippling with rage, but Peter pushed back the instinct to let it consume him. He wasn't going to let Osborn win. Not this time. He lunged again, but Osborn was too fast, dodging to the side and hurling a barrage of pumpkin bombs at him. The explosives burst against the ground in a shower of flames and debris, but Peter was already webbing the air, moving faster than the explosions could catch him.

"Is that all you've got, Spider-Man? A few cheap tricks?" Osborn taunted, hovering above him on his glider, a cruel grin plastered across his face.

Peter snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not getting away this time, Osborn. This ends tonight!"

He shot a thick web toward the Goblin's glider, wrapping it in sticky strands, but the glider jerked to the side, and Osborn unleashed a barrage of electric shocks, slamming into Peter's body with brutal force. The electrical current surged through him, sending a wave of pain crashing through his veins, but Peter gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay on his feet.

"You don't have the strength to keep this up," Osborn hissed, his eyes wild with excitement. "You're already broken. I can see it in your eyes."

Peter's entire body was shaking with pain, his muscles screaming for respite, but he was fueled by a deeper, darker anger now. He was no longer just Peter Parker. He was the man who had lost everything, the man who had failed to save the ones he loved, and the man who was going to make sure Osborn paid for it.

"Shut up, you sick bastard," Peter spat, his voice thick with fury. His hands shot forward, webbing Osborn's glider, yanking it toward him with enough force to throw off Osborn's balance. "This ends now!"

The Goblin hissed, his glider spinning wildly, and he leapt off it, landing in front of Peter with a wicked grin. "You're out of time, Spider-Man. You always have been."

With a flick of his wrist, Osborn sent a barrage of razor-sharp blades whizzing toward Peter. Peter barely managed to dodge, twisting his body at the last second as the blades slashed through the air around him. He retaliated, sending webbing toward Osborn, but the Goblin was quick, using his glider's thrusters to evade each attack.

Their battle raged on, a brutal back-and-forth of webs and weapons, punches and strikes. Peter was faster, stronger, his body fueled by desperation, by the rage that was consuming him. Every swing of his fist was filled with the weight of his loss. But Osborn was no less dangerous. His madness only made him more unpredictable, more violent.

"You'll never win, Spider-Man!" Osborn yelled, sending another wave of pumpkin bombs toward Peter. The blasts lit up the night sky, forcing Peter to duck and dive in every direction to avoid the searing explosions.

"You're not going to walk away from this, Osborn," Peter roared as he leapt into the air, landing on a rooftop just out of the Goblin's reach. "I swear to God, I'll bury you!"

Osborn's laughter echoed through the square as he hovered on his glider, preparing for his next strike. "You're already too late! You're broken, Spider-Man! You always were!"

Peter's eyes blazed with rage, his fists trembling with the effort to hold himself together. He leapt forward, his body fueled by anger, but in the middle of his charge, something caught his eye, a faint glint from the shadows above.

It was the glint of a pumpkin bomb, falling through the air, straight toward him.

No time. No room to dodge.

Peter's breath hitched in his throat, and in a desperate attempt, he shot a thick web to the nearest building, swinging toward it with all the strength he had left. The explosion rocked the square behind him, throwing debris in all directions. The shockwave hit him hard, and his vision blurred as he slammed into the building's side, collapsing to the ground.

Peter coughed, his body battered, bruised, his muscles screaming for mercy. His chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath, his skin singed and his suit torn. He couldn't fight any longer. Not like this.

Osborn's voice, dripping with glee, echoed down from the rooftop above. "Look at you, Spider-Man. Nothing but a broken wreck of a man. No more strength. No more hope. You're done."

Peter forced himself to stand, his vision swimming, his muscles screaming in protest. But Osborn was already turning, preparing to make his escape.

Osborn hovered above him, his wicked grin only growing wider as Peter struggled to stay upright. The battle had taken everything from him, his strength, his resolve, and now even the last bit of hope seemed to be slipping away. His hands, still shaking, tried to cling to the remnants of his willpower, but the weight of his failure felt unbearable.

"Is this it, Spider-Man?" Osborn's voice came down like a dark melody, taunting, almost loving in its cruelty. "You were supposed to be something more, weren't you? A hero. The protector. But look at you now. Broken. Defeated. Just like I knew you'd be."

Peter, his breathing ragged and labored, tried to speak, tried to threaten, but no words came out. He was too exhausted, too damaged. His legs gave out beneath him, and he slumped back against the debris of the collapsed building.

"Gwen... Mayday..." His voice was barely a whisper. "I won't let you—"

But Osborn cut him off with a mocking chuckle, twisting the knife further. "You failed them, Peter. You know it, I know it, and everyone else does, too. What makes you think you can stop me now? I've already won. I'll always be the one in control."

Peter's heart thundered in his chest, a torrent of rage and guilt crashing through him. But Osborn had no intention of waiting for him to recover. With a flick of his glider's controls, the Goblin soared higher, preparing for his escape.

"Think about it, Spider-Man," Osborn said, his voice dripping with amusement. "All of this, everything I've done, everything you've failed at, it's just been the beginning. You'll never stop me. You're nothing without your anger. And now, even your anger isn't enough."

Peter could only watch, his fists clenching, as Osborn's glider streaked into the dark sky. The green silhouette of the Goblin became smaller and smaller until he vanished into the distance. Peter was too beaten down, too close to the edge, to give chase. His limbs were limp, and his head was heavy with exhaustion.

Silence settled over the square, broken only by the distant sound of sirens and the crackle of burning debris. Peter stumbled to his feet, the pain making him wince as he struggled to keep his balance.

"Damn it..." Peter muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse and filled with frustration.

He swung back onto a nearby rooftop, the familiar motion somehow feeling foreign after the battle he had just fought. His suit was torn and scorched, his body bruised beyond recognition, but there was no time to rest. No time to dwell on what Osborn had just taken from him. Peter couldn't afford that right now.

Back at his base, he landed on the rooftop with a heavy thud, his knees nearly giving way beneath him. The familiar sight of his makeshift lab, the glowing screens and equipment waiting for him, seemed to offer little comfort tonight.

He staggered to his desk, grabbing his comms device with trembling fingers. His vision was still blurred, his body screaming for relief, but he couldn't wait any longer. He needed help. Desperately.

With a slow breath, Peter activated the call. The comms crackled before the familiar voice on the other end came through. "Parker?"

"Sable..." Peter coughed, his voice ragged. "I need your help."

Thanks for reading everyone

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