Spider-Man. The House Of Venom

Flash kept to his word, and Peter found himself being given angry glances but that was it.

His life became a routine. He would attend school, with no distractions, other than Gwen.

He went to work. Reducing the pile by half over two weeks. In appreciation Aleksei let Peter browse the offices to get himself some furniture. At a discount of course. And when the pile upstairs began to shrink, Aleksei had him work on some bigger items.

Aleksei had received a shipment of old American-style fridge freezers. Big and normally fitted into the kitchen wall. These had been ripped out, wires cut with evidence of plastic wrap on some. Peter knew they were probably stolen but as usual, he didn't ask and didn't care.

It had taken Peter most of the night to strip them out and get them all working.

“Nice work kid,” Aleksei said as Peter wiped the last one down, “So, how's the new place?” he asked as he finished his cigarette.

Peter smiled, “it’s great. But uh. You don’t happen to have a water heater?” Peter stretched his hands out in one direction and then another, making a box shape. “Say about this big and this wide?” He grinned as Aleksei laughed,

“You know, we don’t get great pay for the city for places like that, and it ain’t much profit for the hours we put in.”

Peter smirked, “I know, but if it's the one from the roof anyway, I know it fits. A new one is four hundred? How about two?”

Aleksei looked at him and shook his head, a smile forming, “I am teaching you bad habits. How about one, and when you get some tenants in, you send ‘em here for their stuff?”

Peter laughed, “because the three tenants I have are all high school girls.” He raised an eyebrow at Aleksei,

He laughed out loud, slapping Peter on the shoulder, “defiantly teachin’ you bad habits. Come on, it's still out back.”

Aleksei showed Peter where the massive boiler assembly was, still with the bolts in place. Thankfully it was in a crate and had handholds.

“You need a hand?” but Peter sized the box up, gripped it tightly and lifted it.

“Nope, I’m good.” but he failed to notice Aleksei frown,

geez, how strong is that kid? he thought to himself. Guess fixin’ that place up gave him some muscles huh? Too busy to think more about it, he shook his head and went back to his office sitting and examining a diagram on his desk.

As the phone on his desk rang three times and then stopped. Sighing, He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a cell phone, and dialled the only number stored on it. "What? You agreed never to call me unless it was important."

"It is, where is Bennie?" It was Normal Osborn. Aleksei had dealings with him every time he needed something done off the books. He paid extremely well, even if it was just to stay quiet. It was a good arrangement. Right up to Osborn screwing with his guys.

"Oh him. You mean Bennie the rat bastard. You set me up to get the cops and feds up my ass, well, get your shorts on, it’s a swim to see him."

"Aleksei, he was a good man, you had no right"

"Yeah, so? and you would have gotten a new boss in huh, tough break Osborn, tough break. So, are you calling to bust my balls or what?"

"Don't say my name. Are we ready for Friday?"

"All set up and good to go on your order, Boss."

"Good, pull this off and you'll get another shipment like the last, do it with no witnesses and I'll double it. Screw this up however and I'll make sure you and Bennie will be getting reacquainted."

The line went dead. Tearing open the phone Aleksei pulled out the sim card and flicked open a lighter, torched it.

"Yeah yeah, asshole."

⁂

From a rooftop across the street, the Black Cat surveyed the scrapyard once more. She'd set up micro cams all over and nothing escaped her attention.

The target, Aleksei Sytsevich, had just gotten off the phone and looked unhappy. She hadn't dared enter his office yet. Someone was always there during the day and at night and worse still there was a new kid.

She couldn't decide if he was a mole or a plant but he seemed too young to be anything more than a runner.

She'd keep an eye on him next time he showed up for work. Young and probably desperate for money, he might just be her way into the office. For now, she watched as he hauled a large box out of the yard with him. No car meant he was local, and shouldn't be too hard to track. Probably just another asshole needing to be taught a lesson.

⁂

Across the city, Norman Osborn had just put down his phone. Dealing with Systevich always left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

Damn bastards, he thought to himself, Benedict was a good man.

It was a knock at the door of his office that drew him out of his thoughts and his son, Harry entered after a brief pause.

"Dad? Umm, can I talk to you about Pete?"

Norman scowled at his son, "No Harry, you can't. I don't care what happens at high school, and if it gets worse you will finish with a private tutor."

"But Dad. Pete got me through chemistry. He got my grades back to a passing level. You can do something, that's your name on the building remember." Harry pleaded.

"Son, I could. But Harisson Thompson has weight on the board," Norman tapped his fingers on his desk. The boy was trying his patience. "You need to remember, it's my name on the building but we still answer to shareholders. It's just one kid, Peter will get over it, he'll move on and he'll be fine. You should worry about your own future."

Norman leaned back and stared at his son, disappointed as usual, Harry never saw the big picture. Peter was a nobody, even brilliant as he was he would end up working for someone like himself. Harry was just wasted potential.

"Son, you carry the Osborn name and with that comes certain responsibilities. Your own greatness relies on being able to see the bigger picture. Right now, forging a bond with the Thompson boy will bring you greater benefits than with the Parker kid."

"Okay dad, if you think it's for the best," Harry said reluctantly, but he knew not to argue. His father had made his mind up.

Norman waved the boy out. He had more pressing matters to deal with than some childish fantasy about saving his friend.

After closing the door to his dad's study Harry's normally stoic face cracked a smile. Something had happened with Peter, and he was different. That didn't fit with Harry's plans, and it was time to get rid of him.

good, he thought. Now if his other plans worked out just as well, he'd be chairing the board instead of his father.

"That went well, Mr Osborn." A rich feminine voice sounded out from the shadows outside Norman's office.

"What do you want, Liv?" Harry asked.

"Well, we got the footage you asked for, here." A white-coated arm slid out of the shadow, handing Harry a tablet, he hit play on the pre-loaded video.

Harry watched as the intruder snapped pictures of the genetics lab. The camera angle changed. It followed the man through the building. The last segment of the video showed him hiding from a guard. as he peered over the desk, he hit the emergency hatch release for cages one to twelve. each scuttling free.

Harry growled and he wanted to throw the tablet Liv had handed him. Sample six scuttled towards and bit the man on the back of the hand before running off across the floor.

"How bad is it?" Harry asked her.

"Well, he's definitely Enhanced now and while we did blood work on the kids, I'll bet any money so are they. We had two pass out, and one reported feeling sick afterwards. Your little friend Peter was one of them."

Harry sighed, "Parker." Now he knew why Peter had been acting strange. He needed to cut ties with him before this blew out of proportion, "Keep this quiet."

The woman pulled her hand back into the shadow. "Oh don't worry. Daddy dearest doesn't even know about your involvement."

⁂

Back in the warehouse, Peter felt a strange tingle and he wondered if someone was talking about him. Shaking his head he picked up an egg.

To try and train his dexterity and strength Peter had taken to juggling. Practising with eggs, as they were delicate, he held the eggs over a bowl. So when he crushed one or dropped one, it wasn't a waste.

Peter had just gotten up to eight eggs when his phone dinged and it was a text from Harry.

Sorry, Pete, Dad isn’t happy about you and Flash. I can’t hang out with you now and he’s getting me a tutor. it's been great though, thanks. Harry

Peter crushed the egg in his hand, letting the others fall onto the counter. 

Fucking ingrate.

He tutored him. Not just one subject. Helped him with math, sciences and any fucking problem he had. But as soon as Flash gets in a pissy mood and probably ran to daddy even Harry fucking bends over and kisses his ass.

He threw the remains of the mess at the eggshell-filled trash can, he'd make them pay, he'd make them all pay.

Checking the empty carton out Peter decided he needed some more eggs. The fresh air would help clear his head. He needed to think, to decide his future once and for all, screw the rest of them, screw them all.

His phone dinged and while it was Gwen, he was in a bad mood,

‘Sorry, still at work, talk to you later,’

⁂

At home in their lavish Brownstone house, staring at her phone Gwen shrugged, oh well.

She was in front of a mirror, phone camera ready to click but with him at work there she thought better of it.

Running her hands down her body she stared at the silky black underwear. She'd bought it for Peter's eighteenth birthday, intending on asking him out but had chickened out.

He was going to freak out when he got to unwrap her now that they were dating.

⁂

Downstairs in his office, George Stacy stared at the report once more.

Three costumed weirdos were terrorising his city and there was nothing he could do about it.

The first report was about a local hood, Flint Marko. He'd been beaten so badly that his ribs were sticking out of his chest.

Local EMTs reported he'd be dead within an hour. If he was still alive, George had no idea. He had disappeared this could be a murder rather than just a mugging gone wrong.

The report included a witness, who described a huge latex suit-wearing man. Completely black with a white spider design on his chest, who'd made a lame joke after driving Marko into a wall.

Then, some fetish nightmare with whip and razor claws strung up Dillon Murphy, a local drug dealer. All they got from the high as a kite dealer was big ass titties, over and over.

George rubbed his forehead and then, last but not least another spider freak. Blue and Red costume, webs all over it but this guy. He knew police procedure, videoed the mugging and stopped it. Capturing it all on camera and then restrained the guy before calling the cops.

He hated vigilantes for these three reasons. One was a brutalist. One an adrenaline junkie and the last. An actual do-gooder who'd get someone, or themself, killed.

He felt a headache coming on and Gwen dating this Parker kid didn't make it any better.

⁂

The same reports had made their way via a series of bribes and connections to the offices of J. Jonah Jameson. He was staring at a nervous young man, holding another manilla envelope.

"So, you got the photos?" The grey-haired moustached man asked, drawing on his thick cigar.

"I do Mr Jameson, I do." The man standing in front of Jameson had at least made an effort. His short light brown hair was neatly trimmed, and his square but handsome face was cleanly shaven. His suit left a lot to be desired though, but at least it was a suit.

"Spider-Man huh?" Jameson flicked through the photos, each one capturing the vigilante in precise clarity. "A menace, that's what he is, taking jobs away from our honest to god police."

"Uh, Mr Jameson sir." The photographer handed over a file he'd gotten from a ‘source’. "Spider-Man is the third vigilante to appear this week, and uh, he's the nicest."

"What? He's a menace. What's your name again?"

"It’s uh Brock Sir, Eddie Brock and yes, he still tied up that mugger sir but look." Eddie Brock showed J.Jonah Jameson the three police reports. "He filmed everything, to show he's not so bad but these two. "Mugger was found with his chest caved in," and as he flicked to the other report. “The dealer was found with a month's supply of LSD stuffed into his mouth."

"Wow, three menaces. Brock, get me photos of all of them. Spider-man. This Black Cat woman and uh, uh, hmm, I'll think of something for the black one later. racial sensitivity and all that." J.J. waved him away, "See HR for your pay son, these are good, these are really good. Brock, is it? Bring me more like this and I'll give you a full-time position."

Eddie left the envelope on the desk and taking a backwards glance he could see J.J. reading his work. He inwardly sighed as he left the office, as he already had a full-time position, just right at the bottom. He hoped his big break would come from the editorial piece he had handed Jameson about the three.

He'd already named them. Spider-Man was a given but Black Cat was more appropriate. She might use a whip but she slashed the dealer with claws and was wearing a black catsuit.

It was the last one that gave Eddie cause for concern. but the last one. The spider outfit was a giveaway. Was he also the victim of one of Oscorps spider creations or something else entirely?

Whatever his story, Eddie was sure their paths would cross, sooner rather than later. Spider-Man and Tarantula were fated to be on different sides of the law.