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There was a loud crash, explosion and rumble of thunder from overhead. As Peters's back slammed into a nearby wall with a very unsatisfying crunch, the force of the blow knocked the wind out of him. "Alright now, hold up. Don't you think one of us should check on that?" A large fist came crashing towards his head, and he ducked to the side, left hand out. Thwip, the web shot out from his wrist-mounted Web-Shooter(patent not-pending), and struck the goliaths fist. With all his might, Peter grabbed the line with both hands and pulled back, hard. The sudden shift in momentum knocked the creature off balance, causing it to crash to the ground.
Allowing the webline to fall slowly to the floor, he raised both his arms and with a flick of his fingers, there was a thwip, thwip, thwip, thwip, thwip as he fired web randomly towards the creature. It roared and screamed as it struggled to break free from the webbing. It struggled, its back arching, head twisting. Jaws snapping. Lowering his right hand down to his belt, he pulled out a flashlight. "Now then, Snapper, let's see exactly who you are-" Clicking the light on, the bright glow reflecting off the shiny green scales, illuminating the sewer in an eerie green glow. "-did you play dress up?" His eyes widening as the light flashed over a ripped, torn, tattered and filthy labcoat.
"Wait a minute, is that a, yeah, who-" The lanyard hung loosely from his coat, swaying slightly with the rise and fall of the creature's chest. At this point, it had stopped struggling against its bonds. Its eyes narrowed; he could almost feel the glare through the mask. Peter crept forward slightly; he could feel the heat from its breath. The stench of rotting flesh crept through the raw smell of sewage. Leaning forward, he peered closer reading the label: DOCTOR CURT CONNORS. The corner of the ID badge adjorned with the Oscorp Logo.
Curt Connors. The name rang familiar, he knew the name. "Alright Doc, I don't think I'll be changing to your practice."
Its mouth moved slowly, guttural sounds escaping its throat. There was a definite rhythm to them though. "Wait, are you feeling chatty?" His mouth moved again, there was a definite attempt at trying to communicate. "Come on, speak up then."
A throbbing in his head, he ducked back just in time as five sharp claws tore through the webs, swiping through the air where his face had just been. It ripped the rest of the webs off, and charged. Left swipe, right. Duck down, left, roll forward. Tail. He jumped at the last second, but it snapped and caught him in the air and he tumbled. Rolling onto his back, he reached out and grabbed the incoming arms.
Connors snapped his jaws, spittle and debris failling down on his mask. Note to self, wash mask. Peter groaned, trying to push back up against the reaching claws. "Come on Doc -ugh-, take a breathmint." He couldn't move his legs, he was pinned by the weight of the reptilian - name pending. Twist, no that wasn't working. Leg hook, no there was no purchase. Brute Strength. He groaned as he pushed up against the Doctor holding onto his wrists. Peter let go suddenly let go with his left, a flick of his fingers and a glob of web shot out and covered the beasts eyes.
Groaning he clawed at the webs with his free hand. Peter grabbed the good doctors wrist with both hands, and drawing all his strength he twisted. A satisfying, disgusting snap echoed above the sound of the roar of pain as Connors jumped back, Peter planted his feet firmly in the middle of Connors chest and kicked, using the momentum he twisted, hand out he pushed and twisted himself back upto his feet. Knees bent, arms extended. Ready to fight.
A loud bang, and a splash Peter ran after Connors as he tore through a gate and jumped into the black abyss below. "Oh don't do it, this is such a bad idea." Ignoring his own advice he jumped.
General Slocum sighed, rubbing between his eyes. Leaning back in his chair, he looked up to the ceiling as if it was going to give him some inspiration. Gifted from the heavens themselves. The truth was in the paper before him: OsCorp was failing to provide. LuthorCorp had been making leaps and strides, especially in the area of metahuman control and containment. The US Army had to prioritise results over any sense of loyalty to one supplier.
A thud in the distance shook him from his revelry. Standing up, Slocum shook himself awake, walking to the door and peering out. To the right, an empty hallway with nothing but a wet floor sign. To the left, nothing except - he had to look twice as a shadow moved. Looking for the second time, it was empty. It was well after midnight. Joe had been staring at files, figures, prototypes, schematics and promises. Promises and more promises.
A shuffling noise, he turned to look behind him. Nothing, a rise of hair against the back of his neck. The unmistakable sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that something was wrong. Turning around once more, a strong hand closed around his throat. His feet kicked, and his hands clawed at the hand around his throat. His eyes stared in terror at the black mask before him, the shapeless, shiny eyes on the side of the mask. Then, with a snap his legs stopped flailing, and his body was dropped to the floor.The figure pushed his glasses up slowly. "Inform the boss, Agent S has seen that his little problem is taken care of."
