Chapter 7: Justice...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Earth-56
.
... The holes in the walls and overturned shelves were testament to a fierce struggle, a battle I had only heard about in street rumors.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The next morning, wearing the same clothes I entered in, I find myself leaving my hospital room. The doctor who treated me discharged me after being unable to find any reason for my sudden malaise, nor any indication of any new illness.
As I walk toward the exit, I pass the reception desk and see the nurse who cared for me during my stay. I thank her with a smile and she returns the gesture, wishing me a speedy recovery. The cool morning air hits me gently as I walk through the automatic doors of the hospital. For the first time in days, I feel like I can breathe freely.
I now head to Aunt May's house, who must have been busy with her nursing job to not be able to come visit me for the two nights I've been in the hospital.
"Aunt May, after Uncle Ben's death, it hasn't been easy to get by," I think as I walk in the direction of the familiar location.
With a quick glance I look for the spider mark on my hand caused by the genetically modified spider by OSCORP when looking for my father's project with Dr. Connors of this world.
"This world is full of people with dangerous superpowers. I wonder if my life won't end tomorrow when I go outside." With my thoughts flooding my mind, not realizing that I was ignoring my surroundings, I was warned by my sixth sense too late.
"Ouch!" The scream snapped me out of my thoughts. When I snap back to reality, I find myself standing in the middle of the hallway with a grown woman rubbing her butt on the floor. Immediately, I am overcome with guilt.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention, miss. This was my mistake," I said, feeling increasingly guilty and ashamed for being absent-minded in a hospital.
The woman looked up and, despite the pain visible on her face, gave me an understanding smile.
"Don't worry, we all have moments of distraction," she replied as she stood up with some difficulty.
I helped her up, noticing that she was wearing a paramedic shirt. She was probably a nurse or hospital staff involved in an emergency.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked, trying to make sure I hadn't caused more damage than necessary.
"Yes, it was just a bump. But you seem to be very lost in your thoughts. Is everything okay?" she asked, looking at me with curiosity and with a fondness that seemed strange to me.
I nodded, although the worry still weighed on my mind. I decided not to mention anything about the spider mark or my powers in the face of the obviousness of assuming a secret identity.
"Yeah, I was just thinking about… personal stuff," I replied, trying to steer the conversation away.
She nodded, understanding that I didn't want to talk about it.
"Well, if you need to talk or if there's anything I can help with, feel free to tell me, Peter," she said, extending her hand.
"Thanks, but how do you know I'm Peter Parker?" I asked, shaking her hand. The surprise that she knew my name didn't go unnoticed by me, given my recent encounter with a genetically modified spider; my senses seemed to go a bit chaotic around her.
"Ah, Peter… Don't you remember your second favorite aunt?" she asked, her eyes shining with interest.
"Definitely not," I think as I stare at her curvy figure, her brown hair and light eyes, failing to see any kinship with my mother's memories.
I nodded, surprised that she was a relative of my father.
"Well, I'm glad you're alive. After we got the call from your aunt, worried about finding you convulsing on the floor, we had to bring you in urgently, you know?" she said, still with a degree of concern worthy of a relative like Aunt May.
"You don't really remember me. It's only been a few years since we last saw each other…"
"Yeah, I'm a little lost with this revelation," I said, completely omitting her name, which was unknown to me.
"I'm Cassandra Webb, but you can call me Aunt Cassie."
"Maybe you don't remember, but I was at your birth with your Uncle Ben. I always admired him," said the now Aunt Cassie with a nostalgic smile. —. If you need any kind of support, Peter, you and May, I'll be happy to help you.
—Thank you, I'll really appreciate it —I replied, feeling a little relief knowing that I had someone at the hospital willing to help me.
We said goodbye, and as I continued walking through the streets of the city, I couldn't help but feel a little more optimistic. Maybe this world was full of dangers, but there were also people willing to help.
With new spirits, I headed towards my personal laboratory, determined to develop the craziest inventions that will help me get out of the streets alive in my mission as a vigilante with these new powers since the day I was bitten by that spider.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Now that I'm back home and Aunt May is nowhere to be found, I quickly head to the basement lab. The basement walls are covered in tools and electronic components, a testament to the many projects the other Peter and I thought of in similar ways. But today, I have a specific goal in mind: to build a mechanical web-shooter.
I descend the stairs, my mind overflowing with schematics and calculations. The need for a reliable and effective device is urgent. Memories of my attempted battle with the criminals are still fresh, and I know that upgrading my equipment is essential to meet future challenges.
I find the other Peter's drawing board in the corner, covered in ideas and designs. His detailed sketches and meticulous notes are my guide. With a mix of determination and nostalgia, I begin gathering the necessary materials. There is a certain comfort in the act of building, a familiarity that connects me to my past and my purpose.
First, I select the main components: micro servo motors, web fluid reservoirs, and a high-precision trigger. The design I plan is ingenious, but complex. It requires perfect alignment of each piece to ensure the web fluid shoots out properly and sticks with sufficient strength.
As I work, the hours fly by. My hands move almost automatically, assembling circuits and adjusting components with precision. The basement is quiet, save for the occasional whir of a tool or the click of a component snapping into place. Concentration absorbs me, and for a moment, the pain of loss fades away.
Finally, after what seems like hours, I step away from the workbench to assess the result. The web shooters are ready, their casings gleaming under the fluorescent light. The real test, though, will be whether they work as I expect.
I strap the devices onto my wrists, adjusting the straps to ensure they are securely fastened. I take a deep breath and aim at the basement ceiling. With a minor adjustment to the trigger, I press the button.
Twhip!
A jet of web shoots out, sticking firmly to a support beam.
"It works," I murmur, a mix of relief and satisfaction in my voice.
I decide to test them on a larger scale. I take the stairs two at a time, stepping out into the backyard. The night is quiet, the full moon illuminating the sky. It's the perfect time for a test flight.
Twhip!
Twhip!
With a leap, I shoot a line of web toward a nearby tree and swing. The sensation is incredible. The control is precise, the fluid resistance is perfect. I feel a new wave of confidence, knowing that these mechanical web-shooters will give me a crucial advantage in my future battles.
After several laps around the neighborhood, I return home, heart still pounding with the adrenaline of success. I gather everything up in the basement, making sure no trace of my work is left before Aunt May returns.
I sit at my desk, taking a moment to breathe and reflect. Uncle Ben would be proud of this. I'm sure his legacy and teachings will live on through every heroic act I perform with these new tools.
With one last look at the basement, I walk up the stairs and close the door behind me. The city needs a hero, and I'm ready to be that hero. From now on, every step I take will be to protect the innocent and honor my uncle's legacy.
"For Uncle Ben, I will be justice..."
.
... *Crash*
*Bang*
*Crash*
*Bang*
*Crash*
*Bang*
I hear the shop windows being shattered by multiple consecutive shots that are directed towards the street with the purpose of driving away passersby to escape, scaring the manager in the process.
"With the angle I have, the best option would be to fall near the broken window and shoot web to immobilize them without problems," I think as I watch how the criminals plan to leave the premises, advancing my plan and launching myself with my new tools adapted to my gloves.
*Crash*
My legs finish the work of the bullets by making the last glass fall to the ground as it falls impromptu in the store, alerting in the process all those present who react to my arrival negatively with gunshots.
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
*Bang*
Bang
With the superhuman senses endowed by the enhanced spider, I find myself seeing everything in frames while my head tickles. I am dodging bullets from the criminals who have entered the same store that day.
—Well, that was close. I would tell you that I am very fast, but really you are too bad firing.
With my great speed, I spin in the air and throw a fist at the man, holding back so as not to break any bones. However, I can hear the impact of the blow ring out loudly. I only sigh as I realize I didn't break anything.
The man staggers, surprised by the force of the blow. Around him, his partners in crime pause momentarily, assessing the situation.
I take advantage of the distraction and throw a web that sticks to the ceiling, allowing me to rise and get into an advantageous position.
From above, I quickly assess the number of criminals and their positions. Three more, all armed. I need to neutralize them without causing too much damage, but fast enough to prevent anyone else from getting hurt.
I take a deep breath, concentrating, and then I launch into action. I descend quickly, landing with a precise kick on the hand of one of the men, disarming him.
Before he can react, a flurry of web wraps around his gun, sticking it to the wall. Another criminal tries to shoot me, but my spider senses alert me just in time to dodge the bullet and respond with a punch to the jaw, knocking him out.
The last man, visibly scared, tries to flee, but a quick web at his feet immobilizes him. I walk towards him, my figure outlined by the light of the fluorescent lamps in the store. I can see the fear in his eyes as he realizes he has no escape.
"Relax, I won't hurt you if you cooperate," I say in a calm but firm voice.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he moans, raising his hands in surrender.
"Just stay here until the police arrive," I reply, tying him up with more web to make sure he doesn't move. As I wait for the authorities to arrive, I realize I still have a lot to learn and improve.
Although this victory is small, it is a step in the right direction. With every criminal stopped, with every life saved, I am one step closer to honoring my uncle's legacy and bringing justice in his name...
.
.
.
.
.
.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
I tagged this book, come and support me with a thumbs up!
Like it ? Add to library!
Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!