The nice sunny day was over. Left behind, along with the pleasant aftertaste of a burger and coffee. Along with the last rays, the warmth and kindness of New York left, revealing a view of a completely different city.
-Got it.
Dropping the call. Despite my fatigue, adrenaline and a thirst for action rushed through my veins. Every corner, every suspicious shadow was a cause for concern as soon as I stepped into enemy territory.
A dark alley. Mountains of rubbish piled under the windows, thrown out by "order-conscious" citizens who like to shout their beliefs from the sofas of their own living rooms.
Underfoot crunch dried food scraps, building rubbish and bones of small rodents, mixed with cockroaches - the eternal inhabitants of megacities.
Some windows still have lights on. Through the cloudy panes of glass, throwing rays of homeliness onto the dirty street, lighting my way, playing with shadows and frightening the unprepared mind.
The houses stand a couple of metres apart, neighbours can shake hands if they want to. Nasty neighbourhood. No privacy.Glancing to my left, I see a young Latina woman removing her tight top. She's on the phone and doesn't notice anything around her though. She probably does and she likes the attention her neighbours are giving her. Directly opposite her window, an old neighbour is rubbing furiously between his legs, yanking on a young piece of meat from another continent. They are both so busy minding their own business that they simply pay no attention to the murky figure in coat and cloak walking in their back alley.
Too thoughtful, I step in a fresh puddle, making a distinctive sound in the alley. There's a distinct wet trail behind me now. This is bad. Water's one thing, but a slip-up like that with paint, blood or petrol? I don't need the police knowing my exact shoe size, even though I wear one more on purpose.
There was a drop on the hat from the roof. It had rained recently. Once again, the elements tried to wash the mud off the streets of New York. A fool's errand.
My mood was worse than ever, and I began to think again about my purpose and my place in the world. I was on the Goblin's trail, a clear trail... And he knows I'm following him.
Daredevil gave me the perfect lead. Although, I wouldn't say it took long to find the psychopath in the Halloween mask. He's a loner, a lunatic who's no stranger to killing his own six. They're easy to find, and they're the ones the cowards run away from all the time.
That's the problem with lunatics. You don't know what to expect, and even the latest criminal scum want to know the rules of the game. With Goblin. There are no rules with him.
This will be the seventh house I've visited today. In each one, I've found traces of Osborne or his alter ego. It's a nasty sight, but at least it's a lot easier to get to him now.
Murdoch and Rand went to other addresses. Without much discussion or argument, we all decided that the first thing to do was to get rid of the crazy guy in the glider, and then do the rest. Democracy, as it were.
I hope I'm the lucky one.
My fist clenched unknowingly, making the old leather glove squeak in the alley.
Peter's wounds came into view, covered in burns and cuts. Fractures, haematomas, abrasions... A list too long to be familiar to every hero or vigilante.
The friendly neighbour himself didn't see it that way. Pete wanted action, hoping to be the first to find his first serious enemy he'd ever faced, and I couldn't blame him for wanting it.
The phone in my pocket vibrated. Probably another message from Felicia. Just hope she didn't send me naked pictures of herself this time.
Stepping closer to the wall, I cover myself with my coat, hiding the bright screen in the darkness of my own clothes.
"I'll lift my head up, honey."
I already knew what I'd see there. So without misgiving, I glanced toward the rooftops, where a familiar silhouette was slowly rising against the cloud-covered crescent moon.
With her hand on her hip, letting her hair flutter in the breeze, Black Cat smiled defiantly, occasionally biting her lower lip.
Putting the phone to her ear, waiting for the beeps to end and for a familiar happy voice to answer me. She was enjoying it. Playing with her intonation, emphasising the right words.
-Couldn't wait, darling? -You couldn't wait, could you? You know you only have to call, I'm always here.
-Come downstairs, you don't want to show off in the neighbourhood. -Oh!
-Oh, you're so impatient and stern. -Oh. I like your attitude. Rorschach.
Damn.
Dropping the call, I shoved my hands in my pockets, heading towards my goal again, keeping my eyes peeled for any danger.
A clap was heard behind me. Smoothly it landed, I barely managed to make it out.
It didn't take but a couple of seconds before I was elbowed by two nimble female arms, and Felicia's entire body was pressed against me, trying to climb all the way in. Breathing languidly in my ear, rubbing her nose against the fabric of the mask, inhaling the scent of my cologne, the girl purred like a cat.
-What are you doing here?
-Don't be so harsh, I was just passing through. I saw you and decided to spend some time together. I haven't seen you lately, you're going to be a wild geezer like your chubby friend.
-Don't talk too much, we might be overheard.
-I remember, I remember. No names and no distinctive features," Felicia wrinkled her face and looked around sceptically at the scenery around us, full of human waste, "but I doubt anyone is sitting here in ambush, soaking up the local scents.
-Anything could be.
Suppressing a smile, I nevertheless couldn't hide my tone of voice, which the girl noticed immediately. Her claws ran down my shoulder and further to my chest, trying to get past the scarf under my coat.
-Not now," I intercepted the girl's hand and turned my head toward her, but the sly asshole was too close, so my cheek bumped into her lips that were stretched into a tube, "kindergarten.
-Oh, honey. A girl's got to take the initiative if she's gonna get a boyfriend if she's gonna get a fussy boyfriend.
I almost faltered at that remark, and of course she noticed it again, stretching her lips in a dazzling smile that could light up a dump like this.-There's no need to tease me like that. I'm not running away, not my style.
Felicia pressed her lips against my ear, breathing languidly through the fabric of the mask and drooling a little, running her tongue along the outline of my ear lobe.
-I know, I know, tough big guy. But I want you to know it too, honey.
I had a feeling things were only going to get "worse" now.
-You almost got me, Shawn. You think I can't see your eyes devouring me? You think I can't hear you breathing hard, wanting to unleash your passion? Your hands twitching, wanting to hold my body in your arms? To press me against this filthy, stinking wall and do... Stuff.
Her hand slid back, stopping trying to get under my coat. Running her fingertips along the wide neckline of my chest, outlining my gorgeous assets.
-I'm tired of waiting," her breathing was getting heavier, and even from here I could hear her heart racing, "you're a free man now, so don't even try to run away.
-Nonsense," It was hard to hold myself together. It was probably just the habit of getting into Rorschach's character that helped me keep my hands in my pockets," There are just too many problems right now. As soon as I get them sorted out...
The hint was left hanging in the air, and the Black Cat murmured something contentedly into my neck.
-La-a-a-a-a-no, I'll believe you. Just this once. But then," Hardy nibbled on my earlobe, drooling generously, lapping and purring, and ran her hand along my body, gently scratching my neck with her claws, "you know what will happen.
I didn't put the last word in. What was the point of proving anything to a woman in love?
Felicia swung the whip deftly away from me, catching it on a ledge in the roof, then ran up the wall and disappeared.
It was several minutes before a satisfied Hardy left me alone in the alley. The stoicism was just stony, I wanted to smoke and just sit down, not stagger around in the dark looking for a masked psycho.
-Damn cat.
I had to run Qi through my body and slap myself in the face a couple of times to recover.
But there was still unfinished business ahead of me and my sixth sense told me I was on the right track.
***
Typical industrial warehouse. Graffiti on the walls, piles of crap in the corners and shitty gates. The corpse of a skinny cat lying across the road, probably run over by a car.
Squatting down, I habitually run my fingers over the tracks left by a tractor or something bigger. The tracks are wide, fresh, slightly damp. Where the asphalt had long ago fallen off, there were gaping chunks of earth with characteristic traces.
High walls with traces of recently patched holes and most importantly.... A couple of thugs in stupid Halloween outfits guarding the place. Stoned, pathetic, no chance of redemption. The usual rubbish that hides in the nooks and crannies, hoping that one day they can get higher so they can buy more expensive dope.
"Interesting contingent the Goblin is assembling."
They haven't even noticed me, and I'm standing literally a dozen metres away from these ragamuffins.
"Maybe they're planted?"
I don't care, I'm too close to the target.
A text message with the location is being sent to the numbers. I'd better not take any chances; I don't want to chase the freak across the rooftops again or scamper around like a stray dog in the alleys.
My coat slips to the ground as I scramble around the fence, looking for an entrance that's more comfortable.... And safer.
Potholes, rubbish piled against the fence, and wooden patches. It's perfect.
Qi infuses my arms and legs, allowing me to leap from four metres, landing where I need to. Underfoot, the rubbish heap creaks longingly, crumbling with piles of various junk, but the pair of junkies don't even react to it.
"It's getting weirder."
Swinging over the fence, I meet the impenetrable haze surrounding the old warehouse. My sixth sense is sounding the alarm, telling me as well as Parker's gut that I'm getting into fucking trouble now, but there's no choice. The goblin was definitely here, and he might be here right now.
It wasn't hard to get inside. There were holes in the walls of the building, unlike the fence, but inside....
It was empty. Containers, rubble of old machines, and a few empty crates that the Brotherhood of Mutants had stolen from a similar place.
A small torch moved from his pocket to his hand. The white, lab-grade light beamed through the darkness, dispelling the gloom.
Boxes, cardboard, old metal... A container. An ordinary sea container, for long-distance shipping, stood in the corner of the warehouse, not standing out at all from the other rubbish. But one thing immediately made me suspicious. It was too clean. Too lustrous, for such a forgotten and squalid place.
My finger carefully drew a line across the junction of the doors. Not a gram of dust.
"This is it."
Combat excitement swells, gathering in his chest.
Daredevil's baton, the universal tool for all occasions, gently slips into the joint. A small effort and the container door slides open before me.
My hands fumble along the walls, searching for what I need. The tiniest of crevices to solve the mystery.
-There it is.
I couldn't resist saying it out loud.A small tile, almost at the entrance, and just beneath it, a simple code lock. I've never been great at breaking in, more often than not I just kick doors down.
"But you could just try to lock it."
Without wasting time, I use my penknife to pry open the panel, starting to work out the rudimentary mechanism as I go. After working on manipulators and Otto's other ideas, this lock seems like a child's toy.
"Done."
Without making a sound, the floor of the container slid aside, revealing the mouth of the passage before me. And I didn't like it right away. There was a stench coming from there. Not the usual lab odour, not the stench of drugs or unwashed bodies, nor was there a hint of gun grease or cheap perfume that you find in brothels.... Just the stench of dead bodies, long rotted and left to rot. A vile mixture of blood, shit and guts. And if I can already smell them from here, how many corpses are lying around down there.
"Gotta be safe."
A text describing the passage is sent to Rand and Peter, and then Murdoch's baton opens into a staff, blocking the passage.
The manipulators responded normally. In their pockets, a triple supply of non-lethal agents and two extra tubes of foam.
"It's time. No time to wait."
Stomping echoed from the steps. Slow, measured, but in this absolute silence, even professional skills were futile.
A pair of torches, one on his chest and the other in his hand, dispelled the darkness, revealing a view of a good-sized checkpoint. Two machine gun points, metal detectors, cameras, and even a turret on the ceiling... Only ripped out by the roots.
The rays were picking out one detail and another, showing how badly the local medical staff and, most likely, the Goblin himself were doing.
Black blood stains, all over the walls and floor, sometimes going up to the ceiling. Huge dents, left by the collision and shell casings.... Hundreds, maybe thousands of shell casings scattered everywhere.
Taking a knee, I scrape off some of the blood with my finger, rubbing the still slightly damp liquid.
"Three hours. Maybe four. Hard to say, Murdoch would have been more helpful here."
The crumpled remains of ammunition lay nearby. Pressed into the floor, practically turned into plates.
"Heavy... And big."
My head cocked up towards the ceiling, where the impact marks were visible. Huge streaks, as if a breakwater had gone through, tearing through the steel plates like an unsharpened can opener.
"What have you created here, Osborn?".
A hand involuntarily lays down on the wall, tracing over the grotesque claw-striped scar.
Manipulators slowly and smoothly crept out from behind his back. Now was not the time for sudden strikes, one had to be ready for anything.
The entire underground lab was de-energised... And empty. No matter how many rooms I looked into, no matter how many turns I took, the same thing greeted me everywhere. Emptiness and devastation. Claw marks, battle marks, and human marks, or rather what was left of them.
Somewhere in the distance there was an explosion. Muffled and faint, but it gave me hope.
I broke into a run, covering my body with my tentacles, and sprinted toward the sound, later even sprinting with my extra limbs.
The explosions came again. Again and again, and with each second they grew closer.
Already disregarding the conspiracy, I rattled my claws on the floor, hoping only to make it in time.
The last corner was illuminated by a new flash from the explosion, and I even allowed myself a shy smile. I made it. I made it. Just a little more. Just a little more.
The last obstacle. A huge broken door, littered with debris from the ceiling.
Together with my manipulators, I clawed at the rubble, scattering it wherever I could until a shallow gap appeared in front of me. A small one, tiny enough to barely squeeze my eyes to see what was happening on the other side.
Inside, the fire was dying down. Small pockets of fire were burning out, unable to find anything else to eat, giving a little light at last.
Wires dangled from the ceiling, and most of the hall was covered in soot. Huge broken flasks, with deformed human remains hanging inside. They had fangs, claws, tails....
My eyes locked onto a guy covered from head to toe in scales. He was still alive, but clearly unable to move, for his lower body was missing. His eyes were spinning frantically, trying to look behind his back. I obediently looked behind him.
The glider came into view first. The familiar machine was lying on the floor, torn in half. It looked like something huge had taken a bite out of it. Bright lights blinked dejectedly on the advanced machinery, obeying the commands of its creator but unable to rise into the air.
Then I saw him.
Dirty, scared, and covered in blood. He was crawling towards me, perpendicular to my view, on his hands alone, dragging the stump of his leg. Blood was gushing from his chest, and his stupid mask had long since been discarded, left somewhere behind.
Norman Osborn's face was a grimace of rage, incomprehension and fear. Two personalities within one man struggled with each other, not knowing how to get out of this situation.
-It wasn't supposed to be like this! It's your fault!-No, what could I do?! -No, what could I do?! It's all your fault, you shouldn't have double dosed me...
-The calculations were right! We did the right thing! It's just that someone got in the way.
-We're screwed. -We're screwed. We're finished," the true owner of the body wailed and almost cried through the madness of his alter ego, "I don't want to die.
-There's no point in panicking, Norman," the Goblin rolled over onto his back and looked his fear straight in the eye, bravely trying to get behind another mask, but I could see the terror consuming him, "you can't undo what you've done....
-NO!
At that moment, a huge carcass leapt out from out of sight, raking Ozborn's body with its paws, crushing it into a bloody mess. With a crunch of claws and a quiet final shriek, the upper torso disappeared into the huge maw.
My eyes widened with fear and surprise.
The enormous monster, bent over in a triple bend, crunched its bones cheerfully, splattering the blood of a billionaire, a murderer, and a brilliant scientist.
-He's-- Dead? Just like that? What the-- ?
But I didn't have time to finish the thought. Large yellow eyes with snake-like pupils turned in my direction, staring unblinkingly into the small gap through which I was watching.
***
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