‘Now, I should be rather content with my life. It’s probably more interesting than most in comparison to the lives of the others. The other super humans that is. Although my life may be filled with idiots, freaks and homicidal maniacs; I still have my wife and loving family. But every now and again, there are mornings when I just don’t want to get up.’
Spider-Man shot up straight as his spider-sense stung the base of his skull and rippled throughout his body. Sighing deeply he stood up on the edge of the building, crumbs scattered around where he had sat and an empty coffee cup rolling in the wind. The cup began to roll towards the edge of the mountainous building. He watched the cup as on the roads below, three police cars sped down the road, sirens blazing.
‘Of course, there are other people who I wish had that feeling.’
As the cup promptly rolled off the top of the roof and began to fall, he quickly shot a line of web, from his wrist, to stop its descent. With nothing left to delay him, Spider-Man jumped off the office building to follow the same old routine. Meanwhile at the source of the trouble, the crime in question was almost at a close.
“Tell me, did you ever hear about a guy named Magneto,” asked the young black assailant. Opposite to him, the shop clerk nodded his head in frustration.
“Well you see, I used to roll with Magneto because I’m a mutant too – and I’m dangerous too. He even got me to do a couple of assignments for him,” the young man’s pride shone through in his words, however the even younger man behind the cash register showed no interest in this loud, apparent criminal. This was evident in his posture leaning on the till, head on hand. The criminal’s battle suit was hidden by a long black cloak, blown by the breeze coming from the open shop door. He paid no attention and continued.
“I was on the news once or twice. But since then, he’s been arrested over and over again. Whereas I am allowed to roam the streets free. So anyway, they call me, Detonator and you’re about to hand over all that cash in the register.”
The clerk still remained motionless. “Sir, please buy something or leave.”
Angered by his constant disbelief in his powers, Detonator grabbed an elderly man, crouched on the floor with fear. Glaring a smile, Detonator suddenly jerked the elderly man’s head and broke his neck. A tiny whine escaped from his lungs as the old man fell down dead. Never once taking his eyes off the clerk, Detonator repeated his earlier demand.
“Give me the money in the register.”
Shaken by the heartlessness and efficiency of the assailant, the clerk fumbled as he tried to open the register. Time after time, he entered the wrong security code, angering Detonator even more. Moving towards the counter he yelled.
“Enter the damn code or I’ll break your f-.”
“Ricky Gibson”
“Huh?” The young man turned with surprise for hanging from a web line in the shop doorway, swung the spectacular Spider-Man.
“Is there a Ricky Gibson present?” questioned the webbed wonder, looking from person to person, not noticing the dead body on the floor.
“How do you know my name?” yelled the young black male pointing at the superhero, converting his fear into anger.
“Might I suggest, that next time you decide to rob a shop, you don’t leave your driver’s licence on the pavement outside.” Spider-Man inquisitively looked at the situation, noticing the deceased man lying on the floor. “I don’t suppose this is all a big coincidence is it?”
Ricky smiled confidently. “I’m sorry Spider, but you’re in my way.” Spidey’s natural reflexes kicked in, as he began to flip over the criminal as the man in question held out his hand in a fist. In mid air, Spidey was just about to shoot out a web line when he realised that Detonator had done nothing but hold out a thumbs up. Ricky turned to face Spidey as he landed in his trademark crouched stance.
“Err… aren’t you missing a little thing called - a weapon?”
“No stupid,” Gibson smile widened. “I am the weapon.”
Spidey had no time to act as his spider-sense clouded his brain and Detonator brought his thumb down onto his fist, imitating pushing a button. The second the thumb touched the rough skin of his index finger, Detonator emitted a blinding light from his entire being. The sickening sound of glass smashing filled the air, before the earth shattering blast of an explosion consumed the tiny corner-shop. Spidey was fired back into the accounting room as the clerk was slammed against the display behind him. As items fell down upon him, he lost the ability to breathe; Spidey already knew he had died. Smoke, dust and disintegrated food particles clouded the air making it almost impossible to breathe. Spidey was able to roll onto his front and push himself up – onto his hands and knees – to help clear his airways. He could hear screams from outside the shop but had not the energy to open his eyes.
‘There was no physical way that Gibson had survived the blast’ thought Spidey to himself. So there was no urgent need to get up any time soon.
Spider-Man crouched over on the floor, coughing and spluttering. Unable to breathe clearly for several minutes, he lifted the bottom of his mask (revealing his mouth and chin) to spit out all the dust and grit that had resided in his mask. The debris was beginning to settle on the rubble as a result of the vicious act. But just as Spidey regained his regular breathing pattern, his heart sank once more. A piercing shriek shot through the wall of smoke and his spider-sense stung his brain in the familiar fashion. He knew he was in no fit state to fight, as his red and blue costume barely clung to his bruised body and his head was still spinning from the explosion. Nonetheless the masked hero staggered to his feet, quietly cursing as he did so. Pulling his mask down to cover his full face, Spidey lifted his fists into a fighting position, wearily swaying from side to side. Through the wall of smoke he could hear a systematic drumming noise followed by the high pitched clink of disturbed rubble. As the beating got louder, a dark shadow began to assimilate in the mist, gaining more and more tangibility before stepping through the gritty cloud and into the light of the post-anarchic room. Once in full visibility, Spider-Man cursed again and slapped his head in disbelief for before him stood the hulking mass of the half man – half symbiote creature, Toxin.
As Peter Parker knew well, Toxin had all the usual qualities symbiotes have as well a few extra abilities from his predecessors. From the original host and bringing of the symbiotes to Earth, Spider-Man, he shared super-strength, heightened agility and durability and the ability to crawl on walls. From his grandfather, Venom, whose own symbiote had once bonded with Peter Parker himself, he shared his hulking body mass, his constant grin of hidden intelligence and the pure white eyes; loosely based on the eye panels in Spider-Man’s mask. He also gained the ability of temporary invisibility. From his father, Carnage, he shared the ability to increase his body mass and to produce fleshy, rope like tendrils; to use as a form of attacking or as transport – for transgressing from building to building quickly as a form of swinging. His own unique abilities included being able to sense or track anyone.
In physical appearance he would stick out from a mile away. When the symbiote was in control he covered his human host from head to toe in the colours over his predecessors. His head and torso were a sickly blood red separating from his forearms and waist by overhanging fleshy tendrils, much like the entire body of his father, Carnage. Below this, he was as black as the soot Spider-Man choked upon, from his grandfather Venom.
The child-like creature flung open his arms and growled gleefully in his booming voice: “Spider-Man!” The symbiote grabbed the injured superhero and lifted him off the ground in a powerful embrace. If it were not for his super strength then Spider-Man would have clearly been crushed. Eventually the symbiote let down and Spider-Man fell to floor, recovering his breath.
“See how much stronger we’ve got! And we’ve caught more criminals in the last month then the whole New York police force put together!” The creature glared with a huge smile showcasing his set his spiky white teeth.
“That’s great buddy, do you mind if I talk to Pat for a moment. There’s an issue I need to clear up…”
“Sure. I’ll wake him up…”
Before the webbed wonder could utter a reply, Toxin began shaking violently. His body physically changed in a matter of second from a monstrous appearance to a more human-like creature: the overhanging fleshy tendrils became smoother at the waist and elbows; the ever-lasting grin shut to form a head more like Spider-Man’s and Pat’s human eyes could be seen through the symbiote’s white patches. This was how Toxin’s human host wanted the symbiote to look like when he was in control of their mind – he wanted it to look more like a costume then a creature from another world. However the symbiote’s mind was not dormant and could hear everything, the alien only fell unconscious when he was told to by the human host. Officer Mulligan would also do the same whenever Toxin wanted him too, this was their agreement.
“Spider-Man?” The gentle voice of Pat Mulligan came from beneath the symbiotic mask. He looked around the room and down at his hands, noticing that he was in his symbiotic form. “What happened here? What am I doing here?”
Lifting up his mask and spitting again, the hero replied, “Maybe you should ask your symbiote buddy, Toxin, what he’s doing here?”
“Toxin didn’t do this!” Pat growled.
“You’re lucky that you’re right Pat, Toxin didn’t do this. It was some nutcase who could spontaneous combust on demand. But the real question is, what is Toxin doing out in the daytime? I thought he was confined to the night?”
“Toxin is more responsible then you give him credit for, it’s a slow process but he is maturing. I would trust him with my life, I’m proud of him.”
Spider-Man looked down at the floor embarrassed; he had been too quick to judge and he had been surprised by Pat’s devotion to his adopted child. In response, he held out his hand. “I’m sorry buddy.”
Pat shook the costumed hand with his own symbiotic one. “That guy is still alive, by the way, he’s been able to run out of my immediate sensing distance but I reckon I could pick up his scent and track him down by tonight. Do you want me to take this one? It’ll keep me and Toxin out of trouble for a bit.”
“Cheers, Pat. I don’t mean to be rude but you’re young and new to this game. If you can keep control of the symbiote then I reckon you’ll become a great ally to me, just don’t lose it, Ok? I don’t want to have to hurt you.”
“And you’ll never have to,” growled Pat through gritted teeth.
“Good,” said Spidey before he turned and walked out through the smoke. The hiss of a web shot could barely be heard. Toxin punched the wall in anger, breathing heavily. His ears pricked, picking up the call of police sirens in the distance. Pat left the building through a back entrance, transforming back into full human form.
*
“Why doesn’t he like us?” moaned the symbiote.
"He does like us,” reassured Pat, in a gentle voice.
“Fine. Why doesn’t he like me, Pat?”
“It’s nothing personal, plus it’s not you he doesn’t like, it’s Venom and Carnage. He’s just taking precautions against your species' reputation.”
Crowds of people began staring at Pat as he walked down the high street, speaking to the symbiote hidden with him, oblivious to them all. He was on his way back to his apartment.
“But does he have to stereotype every symbiote that pops up, isn’t that prejudice?”
“It’s not prejudice,” Pat corrected him. “He does know what it’s like to be bonded to a symbiote, remember?”
“Fine! It’s species discrimination!”
“Although I must commend your intelligence, it’s just plain ignorance. Just try not to annoy him and ignore him. In fact, when I’m not in control, just avoid him, unless it’s an emergency.”
“But we helped him and the cat lady-”
“Black Cat.”
“Yeah, against Dad and Grandpa-”
“Your dad and grandpa.”
“As well as when he gave us that assignment to take down that Razor- guy and we did it perfectly. I never did find out how he went to the bathroom…”
Pat sighed at his partner’s immature exasperations. “Let’s not forget all the super villains we took down on the way to Razorfist – and all the petty crooks too.”
There was a brief silence of recollection before Toxin spoke once more.
“Hey Pat… Thanks for standing up for me.”
“No worries partner, Spidey is wrong about you.”
Toxin sighed and repeated his question. “Why doesn’t he like us?”
“Because we’re stronger than him.”
“Probably.”
