Serious Spiderman 001

“Peter….Peter.” Uncle Ben gasped from the ground, a pool of blood spilled from his chest as his eyes searched upward. 

Clad in his wrestler's outfit, Peter kneeled down over his Uncle, and grasped his hand. 

“It's okay, Uncle Ben. I, I'm going to get you to a hospital.” Peter choked back a sob as he held tightly onto Uncle Ben's hand. 

“No, aheuh, no, listen to me Peter.” Ben coughed, and pulled Peter close as his voice started to grow faint. 

“Uncle Ben, I-” 

“Peter, please.” 

Peter bit his lip, and silently nodded. 

“That's a good boy. You were always so good.” Uncle Ben patted Peter on the cheek. 

Pater felt how cold and clammy Uncle Ben's hand was, and something inside him dropped. 

He isn't going to make it. 

Peter gasped a shuddering breath, and perked his ears. 

“I'm listening, Uncle Ben.” Peter said softly, barely above a whisper. 

“You must always remember Peter, with great power, comes great responsibility. Promise me, Peter.” 

“What?” Peter said in confusion. 

“Promise me-” Uncle Ben slumped, his chest deflated, and the light left his eyes. 

“Uncle Ben?! Uncle Ben, I promise, okay!? Don't leave me!” Peter held onto Uncle Ben's hand, and tried CPR, but nothing worked. 

“He's gone, kid. Wait for the police to take care of this.” A bystander kindly said. 

“Stay back from him, he's wearing a mask, he must be the one who stabbed the old man!” Another man said in shock. 

“Murderer!” A woman shrieked, then ran away. 

A stampede of people began to move out, and from the corner of his eye, Peter saw that from within the crowd, the punk who had robbed the fighting arena, the one who killed Uncle Ben, was looking right at him, and had turned to run away. 

At that moment, the sound of sirens rang out, and four cop cars pulled up to the side of the road.  

“Hands where I can see them, punk!” A cop yelled, and drew his gun. 

“Where were you?” Peter clenched his fists, and tearfully questioned. 

“Hey! Stand where you are! Come any closer, and I'll shoot, murderer!” 

The word was like a stab to the heart, and Peter was filled with hatred and self loathing. 

‘Where were you?’ He had asked the police officer, but really, he had been asking that to himself. 

If he had only cared, and acted upon that thief, then Uncle Ben would be alive and breathing at this moment. 

‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ Uncle Ben's last words seemed to resound in his head. 

“Hey, I'm warning you pal, BACK UP!” 

Peter took a step forward as his eyes took in the back of his Uncle's murderer. 

“I promise you.” Peter spoke with surety as he made a vow to Uncle Ben. 

“He's a nutcase!” The cop exclaimed in fear, and shot at Peter. 

Peter, so focused on the killer, had ignored the cop up until this point. However, the discharge of the gun had his Spider Sense go into overdrive, and he reacted on instinct. 

Ducking underneath the bullet, Peter lunged forward, and slammed the cop in the chest, pushing him back over 8ft, and onto the hood of his car. 

Peter felt a crunch during his push, and instantly felt regret at hurting someone, yet the three other cops who had come as backup just arrived on the scene, and played witness to this aggravated assault. 

Without another word, the cops began unloading at him. 

Peter had no choice, but to dodge and weave around the bullets like some ballerina. 

Acting on instinct once more, he pounded one cop across the head, knocking him out, then something inside him pushed him on to point his wrists at the other two cops. 

Squeezing his fingers against his wrists, Peter sprayed the two cops with webbing, trapping them in place. 

“Review the security tapes of this area, and question eyewitnesses,  I did not kill that man!

…but I'll be sure to bring the one who did to justice.” Peter declared, and then ran after Uncle Ben's killer. 

The sound of cop cars mobilizing from every which way met his ears, but Peter didn't care. 

His everything was focused on the murderer. 

He was an instrument of revenge! 

Chasing after the punk, Peter almost lost him in the thick NYC crowds, and was being severely slowed down by the immense amount of traffic. At this rate, the vermin would get away! 

Peter grit his teeth, and wracked his brains for a solution. 

It was during this run, that he saw an ad on a billboard for a new Tarzan movie, where people were swinging across vines to get around a forest. 

Inspired by the advert, Peter flung his arm up towards a building, and squeezed. 

Shooting out a web, Peter began to fly in the air towards the murderer. 

Countless people down below pointed up in wonder, took pictures, or screamed. 

Peter ignored them all as he zeroed in on his target 

The balding doughy, middle aged man looked up at him with a look of fear on his face, and ran into a car park. 

Peter swung himself up to the second level from the top, and then attached himself to the ceiling, like a spider awaiting its prey. 

He then started to crawl towards the man, and utilized his keen hearing to locate exactly where he was going. 

The man rushed up to a car, and fumbled with his keys to open the front door, his hands were shaking, and after 15 seconds of panic, managed to shove his keys in the car door, and sat down inside. 

Relief colored the murderer's face, and just as he put the keys in the ignition, Peter smashed down on the hood of the car with a great amount of force. 

The vehicle swayed, and the glass in the car shattered. 

Peter reached in, and grabbed him out of the driver's seat. 

Holding him up to his face, Peter glared intensely into his eyes. 

“Let me go man! I didn't do nothing, let me go!” 

“The man you murdered, was he doing anything?” Peter rhetorically asked. 

“I didn't do nothing!” The man continued to bawl, yet at the same time, had reached for his knife, and went to stab Peter in the gut. 

Having none of that, Peter wrenched the goon's wrist, and yanked on it so hard, he pulled the arm out of its socket. 

“Ah, AH!!!” The man fell limply in Peter's grasp, and screamed in pain. 

“Today you murdered a good man. You've made the biggest mistake of your life.” Peter threatened, and tossed the thug onto the concrete floor with a thud. 

Groaning, the guy gasped in pain as a brown paper bag fell out of his jacket pocket. 

“Just the money. I never intended to kill the old man. I just wanted the money.” 

“Intended?! You killed my Uncle over $2,000 you sick sonuvabitch!” Peter raged. 

The man's eyes widened at Peter's words. 

“Look, let's talk this out, it's all a misunderstanding, take me to the police, I'll plead guilty, just let's talk this out!” The man spoke a million words a second as he realized something was very wrong. 

“So that you can get out in 20 years on parole for good behavior?! I don't think so.” Peter said darkly, and then webbed up the goon's feet. 

Reeling him in like a fisher dragging in his catch, Peter recalled those days spent on the water with his Uncle, and his heart frosted over. 

“What are you doing, no, let me down, ahhhg!” The man screamed in fear. 

Peter dangled the thug over a lip in the parking garage into an abandoned alley between buildings. 

With great power, came great responsibility. 

If the corrupt judges, politicians, and police wouldn't protect the people of this city, someone had to do what they were too scared to do. 

Peter squared his shoulders, and let go of the webbing. 

“I promise.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

AN: This is a blend between movies/comics/cartoons, and is its own offshoot universe. The Rogues Gallery will include bad guys from DC, but none of the Heroes from DC are in this story. If enough of you guys like this, I’ll see if I can add it to the weekly line up.