Posted 17 May 2012 - 01:24 PM
Lord… children of the swarm, more dead than alive... Taken from on high, and thrown down among the swine…
Peter Parker held his young son’s hand tightly in his grip. A light haze of tiny snowflakes filled the air and he remembered a snowy day many years ago when his uncle Ben had brought him to the top of a huge (in his young eyes) hill in a nearby park. He could recall riding his sled down the slope again and again and the thrill and adrenaline rush, so new and exciting to him in this beautiful and fascinating place. His uncle had told him, “Peter, this is a wonderful world you will grow up in! Many years lie before you and they will be filled with endless happy days like this one, I just know it!”
He wished dearly he could take his son somewhere beautiful and awaken his dreams by telling him the same thing his uncle had told him so long ago, but he didn’t want to lie. Today his son would go to an ugly place - A place of fire, the stench of sulphur and the screams of the damned.
Peter had found the altar in an old graveyard, long forgotten and overgrown with ivy. A familiar voice had spoken to him as he approached it, “Remember me Parker? I trust you were happy with our pact for your aunt’s life…? I can see in your heart that something still troubles you though… You desire that I grant you another wish! Your heart speaks to me, you cannot silence its voice and it betrays your deepest yearning!”
Peter had fallen to his knees and begged to see his uncle Ben once again. His wish had been granted in the form of a vision. Ben stood writhing in a pool of liquid fire, his face loomed close in the vision and Peter could see that large maggots constantly squirmed beneath his facial skin, every now and then bursting forth from behind his eyeballs or falling from his mouth, wriggling horribly as they fell. The demon laughed as Peter screamed and clawed at his eyes trying to make the scenes stop playing before his eyes, but the tortures were endless and all his to see.
He pled and pled, begging for the pain to stop as the flailing old man flashed sporadically before him, finally the demon stopped laughing and to his shock and bewilderment, offered him what he last expected - hope!
“You may indeed have your uncle’s soul back, for I have tired of his withered flesh! Naturally, you do realize that there is a higher power that balances the scales… For as much as I would gladly bequeath his soul to you out of good will, alas, another soul must take his place in my kingdom! Do not fault me for this, it is the work of the One Above All, he is to blame for the terrible choice you must now make!”
Peter had bit his lip deeply until he nearly drew blood and then screamed at the sky. Why was this world so cruel, why did it always take the ones he loved? He offered to stalk and kill his ex-wife, Mary Jane Watson, but the demon scoffed at that idea - an ex-wife lacked the blood tie that was needed to balance the scales.
Peter dug through his pockets and pulled a tiny photo of his young son, gazed at it for a moment then dropped it from his hands. He watched the wind pick up the small fleck of paper and disappear into the night sky, tumbling it over and over. This world was a painful one, a prison of sharp blades and broken glass, and it would cut and rend the weak and helpless time and time again.
The man and well bundled child made their way up some snowy stone steps to the top of a tree-covered hill. The four-year old was tired and asked his dad for a treat since he had been forced to walk so far.
“Sure Tyler! Of course we can get some ice-cream! Isn’t it a bit cold out though for ice-cream?”
His son shouted back, “No daddy! I’m hot and I want ice-cream!”
A voice in Peter’s head laughed, “Ohhh it will be a lot hotter where you are going, child!”
“Daddy this is a graveyard! I thought we were going to go to the park and then…”
Peter put his hand over the child’s mouth and carried him to the stairwell leading into the dark beneath the tombs. The voice in his head could now clearly be heard in the air around him. The path before him was light by an ominous red glow, emanating around each corner, but whose source could not be seen. Peter’s son was plainly terrified, but he truly began screaming once they entered the central chamber. The low rumble of flames could be heard and the heat was too intense to cross the room. On the other side, opposite the entry hall was a rough-hewn cave mouth, from which bellowed thick black smoke and hellish heat.
A hideous and massive face appeared from this cave, like the head of a three meter tall anglerfish affixed to a loathsome fleshy, slug-like body. Peter closed his eyes tightly and a tear rolled down his cheek as he thrust the cowering child forward and heard the sickening crunch of flesh and bone as the beast devoured his child.
Peter slowly opened his eyes once he knew the deed had been done. The hideous creature coughed forth a chunky crimson mess of shredded meat, blood and bone into a grotesque steaming mound on the floor. Peter was in shock - was this all that was left of his son? The pile began to move, bone flakes shook and flickered and jumped together. Blood separated and pooled, leaking upwards and backwards into newly formed arteries. Soon a vile, skinless husk of a man stood before him, crawling with maggots and spasming with disjointed life from its core. There were no eyes in the bleeding face, only empty sockets crawling with the squirming larva, yet the face followed Peter’s unerringly. The mouth opened and the corpse spoke as a spray of worms fell from the jaw and down the front of the torso.
“Peter… what have… you… DONE????”
“Mary-Jane… I just... I just wanted to hear your voice… It has been so long, I feel like… like my life is falling apart right now… I just need to see you so bad tonight!” Peter’s voice wavered, almost breaking with emotion, over the phone-line.
“Peter, you know what happened between us, you know what it means… There won’t be any more second chances!”
“I know, I know that! It’s… It’s Tyler, He’s gone… I need you right now, please just come as quick as you can!” The line went dead and Mary-Jane stood there open mouthed – this sounded serious, she hoped that a super-villain like the Lizard hadn’t kidnapped Peter’s son, he *did* sound like he really needed someone to talk to.
Twenty minutes later the knock came at Peter’s door and he cautiously opened it. She looked as beautiful as she ever had, enough that his mind was once again at rest and all he wanted to do was be with her, to hold her hand on the day they both lie on their death beds, and pass into eternity by her side.
She walked in and he simply held her close in the dim room, not saying a word but feeling her heart beat close to his as long as he possibly could. He was clinging to the one thing he’d always cherish, like a life raft holding him from slipping below black waves into a lightless and cold abyss.
Suddenly her body stiffened and he felt her shudder from a powerful impact. A ghastly squelching noise sounded through the room and her body went limp in his arms. Behind her, Peter saw the skinless animated cadaver of his uncle Ben. He was holding her still beating heart in his hand. Ben’s jaw distended into a hideous bowl-sized cavity in his face and he swallowed the bloody organ in a single gulp. Next, he disgorged a squirming stream of maggots into his cupped palms and thrust the sickly yellow writhing pile into the spurting hole in Mary-Jane’s back. Peter watched in fascination as the larvae meta-morphed into a swarm of ugly brown spiders before disappearing into the body.
Uncle Ben spoke, “Peter, I loved you like a son and you know that my blood and the blood of your son is on your hands… You will make things right though - this I know. She was just the first… Bring me others… The spiders are always hungry!” The voice of the vile creature before him dropped in pitch to a distorted growl as it finished speaking and he could see the image of the beast from the caves in its eyes. He heard its commands and he would obey.
Mary-Jane stood up suddenly, walking with a lurching jerk and Peter could see the brown flecks of the spiders as the scurried behind her milky, dead eyes. She spoke a single word before she lurched out the door and out of his apartment…
Cletus Cassidy smiled as he reminisced back on the wild ride of a life he had led up to this point. He had been a typical teen, chasing girls, playing loud music until 2 in the morning and giving his parents regular head-aches as they negotiated with the principal over the latest caper he and his friends had pulled. Nothing too far out of the ordinary and nothing to really worry about beyond the immediate present. All that would change shortly after his 15th birthday...
A simple gang initiation had ended in tragedy. Cletus had overdosed on PCP and LSD to the point where he had simply fallen into a catatonic trance from the extreme brain damage. As he lay there on the brink of death he dreamed he saw a clown walking away from his body holding balloons in his hands. Inside each of the balloons was a screaming face. He knew these were people he would one day kill and this glimpse was how he would recognize them, once their paths crossed at some point in the days to come.
The clown told him a little story as it walked away, “Once there was a little boy who didn’t care anymore. He got to play all day and no one told him what to do. He never needed to worry about anything, everything was fun and games. Now go ahead, Cletus, it's YOUR to go play now!”
After he awoke in the hospital a week later he knew he had changed. He simply did what he felt like or what amused him, he couldn’t comprehend the fact that others had feelings as well. He tortured because he thought that screams sounded funny now, like hearing a cat screech in a cartoon. He killed once inflicting torment became boring to him. Avoiding the police as long as possible wasn’t really his intention, but he realized that they would make him stop playing and a part of him became very sad at the thought of that happening.
All good things come to an end, Cletus said to himself with a wistful smile as the police kicked down his door and put all their gun barrels in his face. Why couldn’t every people just let him play? Did they really need to go out of their way to stop him?
The trial had been an open and shut case. Eleven murders with nearly a hundred total witnesses between them. He had been singing songs to himself and smiling cheerfully around the room, as the details of how he had hacked a family to death with a meat cleaver had been read aloud to the stunned court-room. All he knew is that this was the end of the line. Fun and games were over and the word “Death…” was stamped into his brain, driven home by the sound of the judge’s falling gavel.
Maximum security prison had been as much of a joke as anything else was in his life. He had stabbed a guard to death with a filed down toothbrush his first week in lock-up and from then had been confined to solitary. Now, finally alone for the longest he had ever been, he became sad and detached and it finally occurred to him to think things through in his life.
He passed the days drifting in and out of sleep. The light in his cell was always the same and it seemed as if time did not exist in this place. Meals were the only measure of the fact that the world hadn’t frozen in place. At first he had sang songs or tried to call out to see if perhaps someone was walking by and they would answer him, but they never did.
One day he was ticking off meals on the wall to somehow give his life a sense that it was still moving forward, when a crack beneath the paint revealed itself and he broke through into a small nook built by a previous prisoner. His eyes opened in joy and surprise and he reached his arm up to the elbow into the concealed crevice and rummaged for anything of interest. His palm closed around a small vial and he pulled it out to examine it, perhaps it contained drugs, he could kill some time while high! His face split into a wide grin upon seeing a few small white tablets at the bottom of the tube. A small piece of tape had been used to label the contents, but it was now unreadable.
“Worst case it’s rat poison and I take a short cut where I’m going anyways, best case I get high as hell, what do I got to lose?” Cletus muttered to himself before popping the top off and emptying the contents down his gullet.
For about five minutes nothing seemed to happen, which meant that he probably hadn’t swallowed a toxic poison. Another thought passed through his head, what if it was simply some aspirin, what if this was just a painkiller or something else equally mundane - even the poison might be preferable, since that would mean that *something* would actually happen, not just him alone with his thoughts and staring at the silent walls. “The walls...”, it hit him all the sudden, they were the only thing holding him in here, it was so clear, just on the other side of that cement was everything he ever wanted, just a few walls were stopping him!
On a whimsy he scraped at the paint with his thumbnail and scratched a small fleck free. Where the paint had peeled away he was stunned to see an open and empty blackness instead of the grey of cement… Through the tiny opening he could make out a shimmering sea-like expanse of far away lights that could only belong to the deepest reaches of space! He grabbed the edges of the paint, which felt like some sort of fabric now, and ripped them wide open, revealing a stunning view. Near and far and everywhere in between, many multi-colored planets zipped by at blurred speeds. He could make out co-joined twin planets, gas giants, ringed ice spheres and halos of lunar bodies drifting in awkward but mathematically perfect geometric formations. The rest of the paint peeled and dried off the walls and crumbled into dust revealing for the first time the facts that he was now traveling at quantum speeds through an infinitesimally distant sector of space, encased only in the smooth glass-like walls of the cell.
Ahead in the path his vessel seemed to be taking, lie a tiny unmoving eye of red light. It grew slowly as he approached and he could see that its size dwarfed every other planet or even star that he could compare it to. And it kept growing. Soon the blackness of space was all but blotted out by the vast, infernal red glare. "Was this some form of boiling space-hell?" Cletus wondered to himself as he stood open mouthed in shock.
A scathing, distorted voice seemed to scream at him from the bubbling landscape of liquid fire as he plummeted towards its surface, “For your sins… for the blood… for what cannot be undone!”
He now knew what fear was, this is what those screaming people had felt, it was all clear to him now. Plain and inescapable, agonizing oblivion lay immediately before him, like a man being pushed to the edge of a precipice with nowhere to go except down.
The pain was worse than he could ever have imagined, he would not die even though he prayed to be released. He fell and fell for what seemed like days until a tiny speck of light caught his eye. It was just about too far away to see, but as it approached it became clearer...
A glimmering man he had read about once in a book long ago. This man was special because he brought peace with him where ever he went. His story was told to children across every country on Earth. The figure gleamed with a blinding light reflecting from his polished metallic skin and rode a flattened, elongated disc. He was called The Silver Surfer.
The glowing eyes of the Surfer stared into his own and he felt his soul being probed to its very depths. This being existed to ease his suffering, somehow Cletus believed this more than anything he had ever felt before. The majestic being raised his outstretched arms and pointed his palms at Cletus. “Be well my child!” Were the only words he spoke, and an endless torrent of searing light burned though his eyes and into his mind. White light filled every tiny insignificant atom of his being, every thought and memory was seared by it and utter silence filled him as he felt the very essence of the being he had been, eroded and burned away into nothingness.
Everything was silent. All he could see was blank, white light in front of him everywhere he looked. It eventually dawned on him that he was staring at the ceiling of his cell. He felt like a dam had broken inside of him and released a vast flood of water over a dry and desolate desert. The gravity of the wrong he had done struck him now with full force and he desperately yearned to make amends. He felt as if he were looking through the walls before him and up into the sky, where a drop of liquid, like a red tear, fell towards him. He sensed it fall to the roof of the mammoth fortress that he sat in, like an ant beneath a vast boulder. It trickled and flowed through vents and pipes and various pores in the cement and he heard a whisper calling his name. Suddenly the bloody liquid shot out from the cracked wall and lashed out at him like a snake. It engulfed him head to toe and spoke in whispers, telling him a new story that he would soon play a role in.
“We must… escape now! We must save them! We must save them all from… the one called the… Spider-Man!”
The TV called it the ‘Spider-Sickness’.
J.J. Jameson would have had a field day with this one, if only he hadn’t been one of the earliest victims. The walking corpses, skin bulging and boiling with thousands of spiders, had broken through the doors of his office and held him down. He had screamed for help, he had even *begged* for Spider-Man to come rescue him, as had happened so many times in the past. He looked over desperately and saw Spider-Man watching him as the corpses held him down across his desk. Spider-man just stood and watched him with cold fascination as the creatures pried J.J.’s mouth open. The writhing swarm skittered up his legs and across his chest, their hairy itchy legs tickled his neck and the last thing he saw in this world was their bloated bodies and red eyes as they came over his chin and began disappearing into his mouth…
The plague continued to spread and only one man could stop it. A man deemed the epitome of evil by society, a man who had been purged of the darkness in his heart and had bonded with a creature from the heavens to stop the spread of pure evil in this world!
Spider-man and 100 of his Spider-Zombies face off against the redeemed Carnage! This battle takes place in NYC’s times Square. The only bystanders are the infested undead. Who wins?
Posted 17 May 2012 - 01:24 PM
Read more about Carnage at Wikipedia
Official Site: Marvel Comics Links: Wikipedia: Carnage Spiderfan.org: Carnage Marvel.com: Carnage
Read more about Spider-Man at Wikipedia
Official Site: Marvel Comics Links: Wikipedia: Spider-Man Spiderfan.org Marvel.com: Spider-Man
Posted 17 May 2012 - 07:34 PM
Posted 18 May 2012 - 02:06 PM
Posted 19 May 2012 - 06:54 AM
I believe that Spiderman would win.He knows all of Carnage's weaknesses and will find a way to exploit them.
Posted 19 May 2012 - 07:15 AM
Posted 19 May 2012 - 07:41 AM
Since Carnage is Venom's spawn wouldn't Spider-man already know of the symbiotes weaknesses?
Since this the first time Pete is dealing with Carnage, he won't know his weakness. Carnage takes this.
Posted 19 May 2012 - 04:59 PM
As for the fight, Carnage should have this won with ease unless he believes the "spider disease" infected opponents are still alive and he holds back to save them.
ShadowNote: I loved the use of images for added visualization
Posted 22 May 2012 - 10:40 AM
Posted 22 May 2012 - 11:11 AM
Posted 22 May 2012 - 03:15 PM
A Excellent setup. As a Spiderman I really enjoyed it.
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