Marvel - The Beginning: The Amazing Spider-Man:
Arc 1: Everything is Connected
QUEENS NEW YORK - PARKER HOME
Motionless at the door and looking into the street as if she’s saw a ghost, Aunt May trembles at the sight of Madame Web, standing in her doorway.
Aunt May lowers her face and rubs her forehead. A tense cluster headache buzzing on her brow and anxiety fluttering in her stomach. All over again, the night her sister was killed, her brother-in-law was killed and Peter and Eddie were on their stoop came rushing back to her as if it was yesterday. Two kids, standing there, with that woman!
“I may be blind but your petrified reaction is clear as day to me.” Madame Web jokes, walking past her inside.
Clenching her jaw at that quip, Aunt May turns around, swinging the door wide open, “Get out!” she snaps, pointing at the sidewalk, “Get out, this instant!
Madame Web, standing in the middle of the living room with the outside light cast on her, returns her black sunglasses over her foggy eyes “May…” she sighs.
“YOU’RE NOT TAKING THEM!” Aunt May shouts, her eyes full of tears, “THEY’RE OURS! YOU LEFT THEM WITH US! WE RAISED THEM AND YOU CANNOT JUST COME BACK AFTER SIXTEEN YEARS AND EXPECT US TO…”
Aunt May watches Madame Web flick her wrist in her direction. Suddenly Aunt May is startled as Madame Web quickly shoots a golden web patch over her mouth, shutting her up.
Aunt May’s eyes open wide as she tries to pry off the hardened golden goop.
“I don’t want to take your boys Mrs. Parker.” Madame Web sighs, “I already have an apprentice name Phyla. Heaven knows I will not be raising any boys, too hard headed.” Madame Web quips, which makes Aunt May pause and look at her.
“Ah you do have a couch, wonderful.” Madame Web sighs, sitting down on the plastic covered couch. Taking off her sunglasses, Madame Web sits in the darkened part of the living room but her glowing white foggy eyes remain lowered to the floor.
“Oh I see that got your attention. Good. Now, if you act like a rational sixty-nine year old woman, maybe you can brew us some tea and we can sit down like to reasonable women and just, talk?” she asks while swiping her thin finger across the air, causing the golden webbing to turn grey and flake off Aunt May’s mouth.
Aunt May stares at Cassandra Webb aka Madame Web in shock and confusion, unable to know how to feel or what to think of her presence.
“What is it that you want to me talk about? You never talked to me, you only talked to Ben, ONE time, all those years ago.” Aunt May says.
“Fifteen years ago to be exact,." Madame Web states, "And since then, a lot has happened, IS happening.” she corrects.
May watches Madame Web run her hand down the front of her coat, as if to collect herself from whatever thoughts were making her, uneasy.
Madame draws a deep breath before continuing, “And I fear that, well…something’s coming on the horizon, something evil and, while I still have time, I must do my part to prevent it, even if it may last longer than my lifespan.”
“You’re part? Your life…" May's cluster headache throbs worse at the thought of her words, "...wha-what are you talking about?”
Aunt May sees Madame Webs countenance change and she folds her hands, “Darling I’m talking about the connections. You do know that 'everything' is connected, don't you? Its all part of the Web of Life."
May remains silence, unsure how to even answer that.
"And while i'm not concerned about your connections in this life, for they are set..." Madame Web says, "...i'm concerned about the connections you nephew, Eddie, is making.” she says.
Aunt May frustrated, folds her arms in protest, “The connections he’s making? Will you stop speaking riddles is all you know!”
Madame Web sighs and simply waves her hand in the air, “Fine darling, where is he, Eddie, where is he right now?”
“Eddie? He is at his part-time job.
“Mmmm mmm…” Madame Web nods, leaning back on the couch and crossing her legs, “…on a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, how sure do you believe what 'you' just said?" she asks.
May stands there, frozen, contemplating her words and wanting to curse the woman for making her doubt a good young man like Eddie. But she can't help herself, and glances at the telephone hanging on the wall.
And then, as if one cue, Madame Web says, "That's what I thought."
2 DAYS AGO – Oscorp Labs – Annex Building 45th Floor -10:30pm
The Night Prior to the Class Trip of Oscorp
Emerging from elevator, 9 older men, all grey haired, dressed in expensive suits and smug attitudes, exit out the top floor a newly bought building.
The massive high ceiling room enhanced the sound of their hard soled shoes collectively echoing on the polished cement floor. There aged eyes observe the blue tape marked on the plain cement walls, indicating which to break out and which to keep.
As the bright pale moonlight beams in through the massive pane glass windows before them going left and right, giving an epic panoramic view of the city.
Everyone looks around the massive floor, and though unsaid, collectively feel dwarfed by its size and ambition of the project. Standing in front of the massive window, one of the older men looking out from their 45th Floor position, to the lit New York City skyline, and breaks the silence.
“So this is what he wants.” grumbles Mr. Cohen, turning to group of older men clustered together, "To take this office that could be ours, and turn it into an Emergency Care Facility, FOR THE PUBLIC!!”
Frowning his bushy pepper grey eyebrows, the rather fat Mr. Frederick blows puff from his cigar, the end burning red. He smooths his gold tie with his fat hand as he puts a cigar in his mouth while three other older men stand behind him, waiting for his response.
“Osborn's crackpot delusions of grandeur is going to cost us money!”
“He thinks he can just spit out ideas and we’ll just roll over like a dog!” says another board member.
The rest grumble in agreement.
“HMF!” grunts Mr. Frederick , smoothing out his thin grey hair as he walks up to the window, admiring the view.
Looking at the board members, the overweight Mr. Frederick unbuttons his suit and puffs a thick plume of smoke over his head and points his cigar at the window.
“Now I say we do something about this.” He smiles evilly, exposing his yellow tobacco stained teeth glowing from the moonlight, “Osborn called us up here for an informal meeting…”
The rest of the older men smirk and look at each other and shake their heads.
“…so, let's play hardball.” Frederick suggests, pointing to the view of New York City’s Empire State Building, “This is where I want to be. In the HEART of the city! Osborn wants to be, in a Lab, for the betterment of humanity. But that doesn't increase our DOLLAR COUNT DOES IT!!” he shouts thunderously, immediately hearing the agreement among the other men.
“Its time we make some power moves.” Frederick states proudly, “My connections in the gangland tell me there’s that the Police Commissioner Kellie just had a heart-attack in his home.”
Mister Cohen raises thin eyebrows and opens his wrinkled aged eyes widely “Are you serious Frederick?”
Nodding in affirmation, Frederick rubs his chubby chin and sucks in a lungful of smoke from his cigar before blowing another thick plume of smoke over his head, “Yep…and guess what…when a bigger player like off the table, you know what means? Its the first the rule of nature? Nature abhors a vacuum. Now we can plant ourselves RIGHT in the heart of the city as New York’s biggest underground drug supplier.”
Everyone starts to smile and looks among themselves.
“But Osborn will never go for 'under the table' deals!” O’Brien snaps.
Everyone turns to the skinny old man in his suit that hangs on him like a hanger. His blotchy skin riddled with sun spots.
O’Brien points his crooked old finger at Frederick, “He doesn’t have the balls for this kinda thing. He’s a purist, puppy dog with ideas that strap him, and essentially US, to the public! He’ll doom us all! He won’t go for a move like that!.”
“Oh I think I would.”
Everyone turns around in shock as they see Norman Osborn, dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and silk green tie, emerging out from a shadowy closet. His demeanor serious, his eyes black and empty like death itself, glare at every as they nearly arch they’re back like a cat at the sight of him.
Norman slowly steps out the shadowy closet and into the moonlight, slicking back his shiny short wavy red hair.
“Go on O’Brien…” Osborn goads, glaring at the old man as he holds up a small recorder, “…I’d like to get the rebuttal to that.” He says.
“NORMAN!” O’Brien shrieks like a hawk, "Your voice, you sound..." but then he pauses.
Norman Osborn narrows his green eyes at all of them, collectively stunning them all as he holds up a digital recorder between his fingers for all to see.
“Oh don’t NORMAN me you old bag! You’re all the ones dabbling in criminal activities! JEOPARDIZING ALL THAT I BUILT!”
“That WE BUILD you pompous, arrogant blow hard!” Cohen adds, “WE helped YOU and WE get the credit, NOT YOU!”
Osborn glares at Cohen stand next to Frederick , his gaze settling on the man as he stands in the middle of the other board members.
Osborn looks at him up and down, his fat nearly too much for his button shirt to contain and his suit almost unable to fit him, “You always had more appetite then you could afford but this is another level.” Osborn snarls.
“It is!” Frederick snaps, “Is THAT why you asked us up here?! To find out like the truth by spying on us like a little girl does her parents?”
“TELL US THE TRUTH NORMAN!” O’Brien shouts.
Osborn looks over his shoulder at O’Brien standing with the other silent but equally guilty Board Members behind him. Osborn turns away and narrows his green eyes right at Frederick.
“Seems like you’re team leader here so, I guess i’m supposed to answer you, huh?.” Osborn smirks walking past him to the massive window looking down at the city lights.
“Unless you plan on doing something foolish with that recording…” Frederick states, standing in front of the other board members while arrogantly smoking his cigar, “…I think you and you’re Son, will dearly regret that decision Normy if you don’t step aside.”
Norman Osborn cuts a sharp glare to Frederick as the rest of the board members stand behind him confidently.
“The only thing hate more than people calling me Normy...” Osborn snaps, “…is to be thought of being OUTSMARTED and OUT MUSCLED of my own company by sniveling little roaches like you with short-sighted vision !” Osborn growls.
“What are you talking about!” Frederick shouts.
Osborn looks at Frederick from the corner of his eye with a smirk, “Tomorrow, I meet with an Army Representative and amend a new government contract with the now developing Gobulin D project under our new Corporate Name, OZ LABS.”
“What?” Frederick says in disbelief, “We told them that Oscorp Labs formally SHOT DOWN the…”
"We are dissolving Oscorp Labs….” Osborn flatly states, to everyone's visible shock, “Oh wait, you didn’t get the memo?”
“NO YOU’RE NOT NORMAN!” Frederick shouts, nearly slobbering on himself as he points his thick sausage like finger at Osborn, “THE ONLY LEGAL WAY TO BYPASS ALL OF US WITH THAT ACTION IS BY MAJORITY VOTE IN YOUR FAVOR OR IF WE ARE ALL DEAD NORMAN! AND BY HEAVEN ITSELF THAT ISN’T HAPPENING! SO IF YOU THINK THIS IS GOING TO WORK, THEN LET ME TELL YOU THAT ALL OF US WILL TIE THIS CASE UP IN COURT FOR NINE HUNDRED YEARS IF WE HAVE TO YOU STUPID FOOLISH WEAK……”
At that moment, Frederick can barely hear himself over his own voice. Everyone looks around, confused at the sudden deafening sound of what resembles an engine. Gusts of wind starts to fill the empty floor, throwing papers and debris up. The board members look about confused, but Frederick, rests his eyes on Osborn, standing by the windows, holding a wide eyed smile.
Then, Frederick's stomach drops as everyone sees what they call collectively hear, a black helicopter descending outside their window on the 45th floor. Osborn stands by the window as lasers pierce streak past him with red laser dots appearing on Fredericks chest.
“NoooRRRRMAAAAN!” Frederick shouts, rubbing his suit as if trying to rub off the red dot on his chest as everyone stares at Osborn, mortified, “WHAT IS THIS?!”
“PLEASE CONTINUE YOU FAT ^&!@#... ” Osborn shouts to Frederick as all the other Board Members stand paralyzed with fear behind him, “…cause you’re right, you DO need to be DEAD for all this to happen but like you said, you’re CONNECTED. So I took liberty to anonymously contact EVERY drug dealer you dealt with, EVERY gang you made enemies with, and EVERY mobster you knew...”
Frederick eyes open wide as sweat pours down his face as Osborn glowing green eyes narrow at him.
“…and gave them all your storehouses of illicit products and OH and wait for it….your real names, addresses, bank accounts...”
“Nah-no… NO! You wouldn’t do that Norman!” Frederick shouts, “You wouldn’t…”
“ARE YOU KIDDING? YOU’RE TRYING TO KILL US ALL?!?” shouts another.
“Oh what made you THINK THAT?” Osborn shouts sarcastically, “Was it the fact I waited all these years for you to get comfortable while I amassed ‘REAL POWER’ under your nose? OR that I planned THIS VERY MOMENT every day for YEARS, just so I could pull out my POWERFUL finger, point it at your heads …” he says, gesturing his finger at them like a gun, “…and pull the trigger on your lives!”
Suddenly a bullet shatters through the window next to Osborn and shoots right into Frederick's gut, sending him to the floor in a bloody mess.
Osborn watches as everyone shouts and runs for the elevator as the sound of bullets ripping through the windows fills the air. Cries for help and shouts of terror fill the air over gusty humid wind whirling into the empty office space. As the gunshots from the helicopter fill the air over its swirling propeller engine, Osborn turns to Frederick'gasping and bleeding out on the cold concrete floor.
Frederick clutches his gut and wheezing and gasping for air but sees Osborn ice cold glare from his glowing eyes as he stands over him. Groaning in pain, Frederick clutches his side and grits his teeth in terrible pain as blood bleeds through his white shirt. Seeing him gurgling and gagging. Osborn watches Frederick scream out in pain like a pig as he presses his foot on his bloody side.
“Frederick, tomorrow morning the Daily Bugle is going to write off about how you killed your wife, your daughter and every member of your family…”
Frederick eyes open wide as shots still ring out in the background.
“…by the connections you made in a drug deal gone bad with the Mob…” Osborn smiles, “In two days time, Oscorp will be OZ LABS and I will be the SOLE owner and I will make us an EMPIRE that Stark Industries, Rand Corporation and every other big name will ENVY to work with. We’re gonna take over the world!”
Hearing the last shot ring out, Osborn looks filled with bodies on the floor and turns to the black helicopter hovering outside. Narrowing his eyes at the sight of a black helicopter hovering in the distance with the curly red head Cletus Kassidy inside holding rifle, Osborn nods as pulls out a pair of gloves.
Suddenly Osborn looks down, seeing Frederick grabs his ankle as tears pour down his cheeks, “NOOOooorrman! Pa-pahleeese……”
Osborn frowns his face and pulls out from his pocket a silver pistol and aim it at Frederick head.
“But its funny you know, how in that closet, me recording you all, I heard you laughing at me the most. Laughing at my genius, my potential, when it was YOU who first volunteered all those years ago to partner with me when I had nothing…”
Fredericks face turns to sheer horror as he trembles on the floor with fear.
“…so is fitting that it ends like this!” Osborn sneers, “With me on top and you on bottom, dying by my POWER, by my hands, in my city. No one else will ever disrespect me again or uttering another wise crack to me as long as they wanna keep a tongue.” Osborn sneers, “But for old time sake, because its you, laugh. LAUGH at me like A LIL GOBLIN! C’MON Frederick ! LAUGH! ISN’T IT ALL FUNNY! LAAAAUUGGH!” he shouts, but Frederick bitterly cries on his foot sniffling and crying..
Osborn shakes his head, “Hmf….whose the weakling now?” He snaps and promptly shoots him in the head.
Kicking Frederick off his foot, Osborn tosses his gun to the side and strolls over the shattered window. Gusts of humid warm wind whip against Osborn, flapping his black blazer in the breeze as the helicopter turns and flies away. Closing his eyes, hearing nothing but the sound of New York City traffic and gusts of wind, Osborn takes in a deep breath and spreads out his arms with a smile across his face.
Sitting in his massive library and on his large green couch, Norman Osborn, with a drink in hand stares at the crackling flames within his charred marble white fire place.
"I know you said they'd laugh at us, I know it." Osborn mumbles.
The orange glow reflects on his face as his eyes remain transfixed on the fire.
Taking a sip of his drink, Osborn smiles and lifts his gaze to a green mask on the fire place mantle and raises his glass to it.
"But I told you they wouldn't laugh at us anymore." he grins.
To be continued with Chapter 2 - Heroes