After coaxing the symbiote into its sonic cell with promises of Kasady, the Green Goblin inspected his trace system. Another transfer had been found from Mary Anna’s calls. Connecting an untraceable scrambler to his ear phone, he speed-dialed. The signal bounced through a myriad of connection points before reaching the CEO’s office in the Manhattan Headquarters of the Deregulation Committee.
“I was expecting your call,” a confident voice bragged. “Spider-Man’s really on the run now. When are you going to tell me who he is?”
“Ah, Richard,” Norman snickered. “All in good time. When I’m through, you can deregulate whatever’s left. I will give you one hint. His son was named after his father, who just so happens to have your name.”
“Ooh,” the voice returned sarcastically. “You give me a lot to go on. A dad and kid named Richard. My comp banks can narrow this down to about a million people.”
“It will be worth it in the end. He brought down my father as well as yours. It’s only fitting that we each get our pound of flesh.”
“How true, how true. Have you put heat on Billingsley?” the CEO changed the subject. “Rogers is grandstanding and I’m afraid the legend of Captain America might undermine my organization. Imagine, me, leading the fight against super powered individuals. What a joke.”
“I’m laughing all the time,” Norman chuckled. “As a matter of fact, Billingsley’s close to having Rogers ejected and sent here for deregulation. That would quiet his followers into submission.”
“Thanks for the update,” Richard said. “The newsbreaks on TV are driving me nuts. Now that I know how it’ll turn out, I can get a good night’s rest.”
After terminating the call, Norman removed a vial of fluid from his lab’s refrigerator and filled a hypodermic. Only one more dose remained before Kasady’s mind belonged to the goblin. Then when bonded with the symbiote, Carnage should do Norman’s bidding.
#
Light twinkled through the tinted window at the top of the Deregulation Building. Richard Fisk brooded behind his desk. In the distant past, under the guise of the Rose, he had formed an alliance with the Hobgoblin to rid the world of his evil father, Wilson Fisk, aka the Kingpin of Crime. That partnership ended with the Kingpin discovering Richard’s treachery. Overjoyed by his son’s tenacity, the Kingpin welcomed him to the family business.
Years passed and Richard drifted in and out of his father’s fold. Finally, the Kingpin had been dethroned by the combination of Daredevil and Spider-Man. Bribed judges released him from prison after only two years. Starting his climb back to the top, he suffered a massive coronary and died. Richard inherited his entire kingdom.
Under Richard’s rule, the empire dwindled to the edge of extinction. Many believed that Richard was the opposite of his father and had legitimized all business. The world was fooled. When the Super Powers Commission sprang to life, business boomed. Extortion and racketeering were at record highs. Nobody could stop the influx of criminals.
Life got better when the United Nations designated governments in each country to form a means of dealing with super powered individuals. The U.S. government formed the Deregulation Committee. Fisk volunteered to fund the project. To cut government spending, Congress privatized the Committee. Now it was one of the world’s strongest organizations and the most corrupt. In recent years, Norman Osborn had been his largest contributor. Richard Fisk had another goblin in his pocket.
Logging onto his network, he entered the data that Norman supplied about Spider-Man’s identity. The mainframe spat out thousands of possibilities. With his resources, it was only a matter of time before he whittled them down. Ever since the webslinger’s disappearance years ago, Richard had tried to piece together his identity. Wanting vengeance for his father’s downfall, he finally tasted it.
#
When Spider-Man returned to Safehouse, he handed over the symbiote sample to Carl who took it to a biologist sympathetic to the cause. With the notes on Carnage, chances for the creation of an antibiotic were good.
Peter took a shower and joined his wife and daughter for a midnight snack. Excited about the success, they were disturbed over his secret savior. MJ was used to the suspense and adventure in her husband’s stories, but Mary Anna was worried sick. Mary Jane assured her that worry was constant.
Peter perused the Pym Labs’ material that Veronica had generated then laid it aside. He had had enough for one night and wanted to spend time with his daughter and wife before retiring for the evening. They joined other members in the Safehouse’s entertainment room for a showing of an old classic. Mary Jane blushed as they applauded her small role in the film.
#
With sunrise peeking in the bedroom window, Peter stared at the ceiling, remembering days long past. Uncle Ben. Aunt May. He wondered how different life might have been with them to guide him. He hoped he would have made the same choices. Finally, he crawled out of bed, washed up, and changed into jeans and a T-shirt. His shuffling woke MJ.
“I want to go to Queens,” he said.
At first, Mary Jane did not why, but in seconds, it registered. On their trip to New York, no matter the circumstances, he would want to go to them.
“Just let me get dressed and we’ll go together.”
Half an hour later, Peter steered a limo out of the garage. Heading east, he crossed the river into Queens. Though the area had undergone many changes over the years, Peter knew where he was going. Overgrown trees surrounded a dilapidated cast iron fence. He pulled under a faded arch and entered the premises. An elderly gentleman manning a security bungalow waved as they passed. Tombstones popped up through freshly mowed grass like jack-o-lantern teeth. After several turns, Peter stopped.
He and MJ approached a set of twin markers. Worn with age, their inscriptions read May Parker – She taught us love andBen Parker – He was loved.
Peter sniffled as a tear fled his eye. Kneeling between the stones, he placed a bouquet on each grave. Mary Jane laid a hand on his back as he spoke silently with them. Aunt May. Uncle Ben. It’s been years since I’ve visited, but you’ve always been in my heart. What I am today is because of you. And I need guidance. Your grandniece is in danger. The whole family is. I’ve never taken a life, but it might be the only way to protect them. Is there another way? Please help me. And remember, I’ll always love you.
He stood up, wiping tears. Mary Jane hugged him. A mother dove and her three babies alighted on the tombstones. They cooed, their eyes locking onto Peter and Mary Jane. The birds tilted their heads as if trying to comprehend the trespassing humans.
A fiery red cardinal darted above the graves. The mother dove bolted after it, disappearing in a tangle of brush. The young bobbed their heads and cooed. Seconds later, the mother returned to her babies. They gave one last head bob before flapping away
#
“Wake up, Cletus.” Norman nudged him.
“Mmm,” Kasady mumbled. “Go away.” He pulled the blankets over his head.
“But today’s the day,” Norman goaded.
“Huh?” Kasady muttered. Then it hit him. Flinging the covers, he leapt from bed. “You mean I’m ready? When?”
“Right now.”
Norman tried leading him downstairs, but Kasady raced ahead. His heart pounded, pumping adrenaline through his body. At the basement, he pushed and pulled on the iron door, but it refused to budge. He paced in a circle waiting for his host.
Norman walked to the obstacle. Using his chemically spawned strength, he effortlessly pushed the door open. Kasady barreled inside, dashing about the laboratory like a wild man. Abruptly he stopped in front of Chrissy’s cell, sensing the symbiote. He pressed himself against the door and quivered.
“Easy,” Norman cautioned. “It’s still merged. I have to break the bond.”
Cletus looked back. Insanity gleamed in his eyes. Comprehension donned and he reluctantly backed away.
Norman shut off the sonics and released the lock. The door swung inward. Cletus trembled in anticipation.
A shadow filled the portal. Groggily, the symbiote slunk out. The familiar figure before it stung its senses. Joy filled the creature. Ignoring its bond with Chrissy, part sloughed off her and slipped towards Kasady.
“Come to me,” Cletus encouraged, a mad grin stretching from ear to ear.
“No!” Norman shouted.
Tendrils snaked along Kasady’s body. Ecstatic glee filled him with the creature’s caress. He felt the merging begin. The power. The bloodlust. The chaos. Pain flared, jolting him to the floor, sending the symbiote flailing in psychic agony around Chrissy’s unconscious body. Its bond to her still held tight.
“Damn,” Norman muttered.
He knelt next to Kasady and checked vital signs. Not breathing. No heartbeat. I’ll have to hurry. At Chrissy’s side, he produced a hypodermic and injected the antibiotic serum. Its affects were instantaneous. The symbiotic covering rolled from her flesh and separated. Though weakened, it stretched towards Kasady, feeling his fleeing life force. It touched him, penetrating into his system. Like an electric surge, Kasady’s heart beat again. He gagged in air.
The symbiote seeped from Chrissy’s pores and writhed across the floor like a million tiny red worms. Leech-like, they latched onto Kasady, feeding their strength to him. Fading into his flesh, they infiltrated his bloodstream, returning to familiar surroundings.
Kasady stood. The symbiote covered him like a second skin. Without Chrissy’s constant struggle for supremacy, Carnage was truly reborn.
“Yes!” he screamed. “Feels good. To thank you, Norman, I’ve got to kill you!”
Though not in costume, Norman was far from defenseless. He reached to the control panel. One touch and sonics will disintegrate him into a soupy mess. “Is this how you repay one who raised you from the dead? You are Lazarus to my Jesus!”
“Nobody would kill their savior, except one whose religion was random chaos!” Carnage heckled, snaking tendrils along the floor. “Jesus died on a cross of wood! Your spine will serve as a cross of bones. Get it. Cross of bones!” He howled with laughter.
Norman hesitated before depressing the switch. That was all the time Carnage needed. A tendril clogged the button’s mechanism, not allowing its activation. Other tendrils grabbed Norman’s legs and slammed him to the floor.
Norman leapt up, dodged a clawed appendage and smashed a fist into Carnage’s toothed mouth. A symbiotic snake slithered from Carnage’s chest and wrapped around Norman’s wrist. Holding him in place, Carnage swung.
With his free hand, Norman caught the razored fist. As symbiote surrounded this hand too, Norman kicked and knocked the air out of Kasady. Carnage keeled over, releasing his grip.
Norman leapt to his closet and yanked at the door. A tendril of the symbiote had wedged it shut. Norman stomped on the slender strand, smashing it. From the closet, he slipped on a goblin glove and spun around. Carnage was gone.
Norman scoured the room. He picked up Chrissy and entered her cell. Strands of symbiote interlinked throughout the room in a large spider’s web.
“Welcome to my parlor said Carnage to the goblin.”
Dropping Chrissy, Norman blasted high frequencies. The symbiote was strung out thinly enough that a direct hit did little to the rest of it. All at once, it dropped onto Norman, engulfing him in a sea of red. Stripping him of his weapon, it forced him to the ground.
Struggling, Norman was pinned tight. Sharpened spikes reached out towards his throat and stopped. Carnage hesitated. His grip loosened. Norman broke free. Finally, the chemicals took affect.
Carnage leaned back, pressing hands to his skull, waging a war against an opponent he had never fought. “What have you done to me?” he screeched.
Norman brushed himself off and placed Chrissy on her bunk. “It’s quite simple. Attack me and the fluids I injected into you will generate enough antibiotics not only filling Kasady’s system, but the symbiote’s as well, literally killing you both. Also, resistance to my wishes generates a small dose, causing discomfort. When I’ve had my revenge, you can go free.”
“No!” Carnage slunk to the ground. “The craving. We must be true to ourselves, our purpose in life. Chaos must reign!”
“Then do what you must, but be back by nightfall. My plan proceeds then.”
“Yes,” Carnage growled.
He dashed out of the cell and ripped the vault door from its deadbolts. Not only was violence on his mind, but so was overriding the goblin’s control.
#
“Free!” Carnage shouted, webbing his way out of Long Island.
Spectators stared in awe as he swung through the upscale neighborhood, heading for the chaos of New York City. Why swing when I can drive?
He landed in a driveway behind a man washing a vintage 1965 Mustang Convertible. Startled, the owner sprayed him with the hose. Carnage lashed out with an appendage, encircling the man’s waist, dragging him closer.
“Keys, please,” Carnage ordered, squeezing the owner’s chest until ribs cracked.
“Stop,” a voice yelled from the house.
A teenage boy pointed a pistol at him, arms quivering. The symbiote slunk of Kasady’s face, exposing his human weakness.
“Go ahead! Shoot me!” Cletus shouted maniacally. “Right in the head! Do it! Do it! Doooo iiiiiiit!”
The boy squeezed the trigger. The bullet sunk into symbiotic arm flesh and popped out.
“You missed!” Carnage screamed. “In the head, you idiot, or Daddy dies!”
The boy centered on Kasady’s face. Just as he pulled, symbiote tendrils whirled the teenager’s father into the path of the bullet. The shell blasted through the man’s head.
“Dad!” the boy cried. “No!”
“What a rush,” Carnage sighed as the symbiote enveloped his face, protecting himself once more. He slammed the corpse at the son’s feet. “Not bad, kid. Maybe one day you’ll realize what I’ve done for you. Random violence! Chaos in the world! You gotta love it!”
Carnage tore a hole through the convertible roof and leapt inside. Finding no key, he inserted a sliver of symbiote into the ignition and turned the whole housing. The engine flared. Flipping through the radio, he found a classic heavy metal station and cranked up the volume. Slamming the pedal to the floor, he peeled away.
Speeding along the Long Island Expressway, he cut off drivers and fired shards of symbiote at tires, causing cars to crash and veer out of control. He ran drivers off the road, slithered portions of his other into adjacent cars, yanked their steering wheels, and sent them careening into other cars, leaving a trail of death and destruction, As the traffic mounted, he leapt out of the car and clung to a building, watching ecstatically at the impact and subsequent explosions.
His bloodlust satiated, he sat atop an office building, contemplating a way to rid his body of the spontaneous generation of antibiotics. I can’t be too obvious, or Osborn will have me killed. I need to be sneaky. It’ll be hard, but I have to do it. An option popped into his head.
Diving into an alley, he willed the symbiote into himself. An old wino sucked on his bottle, hoping that the alcohol caused the display. Kasady turned towards him. The drunk urinated in his pants.
“Now you see me,” Cletus hissed, pointing at him with both hands. “Now you don’t.” Twin red daggers shot from his fingertips, puncturing the drunk’s eyes. The man screamed as Kasady cackled with glee.
Exiting the alley, he signaled a cab. One pulled over and he climbed inside.
“Where to, Mac?” the large, unshaven driver asked.
“E.S.U.,” he answered. “To the Biology/Ecology Center.”
During the trip, the driver tried to start a conversation, but Cletus ignored him, formulating his plan. At the specified building, the cab pulled over.
“Twenty-seven fifty,” the driver informed.
Still ignoring him, Kasady climbed out and walked towards the center.
“Hey, old man!” the cabbie shouted, jumping out and rushing towards his fare. “Twenty-seven dollars and fifty cents. What are you, crazy?”
Kasady turned around. His nose met the top of the cabbie’s chest. He looked up into the man’s eyes. “As a matter of fact, I am.” Symbiote skin whirled through Kasady’s eyes. “Care to try my patience?”
The driver stumbled back. The red covering on Kasady’s eyes sent chills down his spine.
“It’s on me, old timer,” he said, running back to his cab and speeding away.
Kasady marched up the steps and entered through the revolving door. In the lobby, he inspected the different murals and plaques until finding what he sought – a write up on university professor, Dr. Hardigan. Dr. Hardigan was a leader in bacterial infections as well as a dedicated family man. His wife, a former student, was ten years younger and his children were three, six, and seven. Perfect.
Moments later, the good doctor ambled past. Smiling, Cletus followed. In the parking lot, Dr. Hardigan stepped into a solar powered BMW. As he drove away, the symbiote seeped from Kasady’s skin. Red ropes stretched out of his hands as he followed. Students gasped at the transformation.
We better not deviate from our slaughter or Norman may become suspicious. While swinging, he blasted half a dozen axe-shaped shards at gawking students. Three were gutted, two more wounded, and the last projectile missed.
The Beemer navigated clogged arteries as Carnage stuck near the roofs in pursuit. The car arrived at the best living quarters in the Upper West side. Carnage watched the professor pull into the parking garage of the tallest tower.
Assuming human form, he entered the lobby and tried prying information from the bellboy who outrightly refused. Cletus bit his tongue to restrain ripping the kid’s head off. The taste of his own blood soothed his murderous impulse.
Inside, three woman and two men sat behind an oversized desk. Kasady acted as a solicitor taking a poll of security personnel in the Upper West Side. Making up questions, he pretended to record them with a miniature relay chip.
Since they were being featured instead of their lucrative residents, the staff members were happy to oblige. During the interview, a slender filament snaked under the desk. It searched until stretching around a bend in the office to a poster of the building listing the occupants on each floor.
Gaining the information, Kasady ended the interview and departed. At the side of the tower, he leapt up the wall as the symbiote oozed over him. Scaling to the seventeenth floor, he silently pulled the entire bedroom window from its place and crawled inside.
Voices came from the living room. The youngest child, the wife, and Hardigan were relaxing. Carnage busted in.
“Hiya, Doc! What’s up?”
The shape of a carrot protruded from his hand and he gnawed on it. The woman was about to scream, but Carnage lashed out and stuffed a portion of the symbiote down her throat. A lasso roped the three-year-old. Hardigan dove for the security button.
“I wouldn’t do that, Doc, if I were you. It’s a long way to the ground and I don’t think anyone in your family can fly.”
The professor stopped. “Let them go,” he whined. “Please.” “I will,” Carnage responded. “Only if you do exactly as I say. Will you?”
Carnage pulled the wife to his face. “If you so much as make a sound, I’ll tear your baby in two. Understand?”
The woman nodded and he released her. She gasped as color returned to her face.
“You made a sound,” Carnage noted, tightening the strand on the baby.
“Hurt her and I will not help you,” the professor promised.
Carnage looked in his eyes. “You got balls standing like that, Doc. I kind of like it.” He set the child in its mother’s arms. “Do it again and I’ll like it so much that I’ll have to kill all three of your children and your wife while you watch. Now, I got this problem…”
Sucking the symbiote inside, appearing less menacing, Kasady laid out his predicament. He gave the doctor an ultimatum. In forty-eight hours, his whole family would be slaughtered if he could not find a cure for the antibiotic. He offered a piece of symbiote and allowed Hardigan to draw a vial of blood.
“Leave town and I’ll hunt you down. Don’t tell anybody. I don’t care what it takes, cure me and you’ll live. Fail and die. I’ll be back in two days.” The symbiote enveloped his humanity and he leapt out the tower window.
#
Dr. Hardigan made sure he was gone before approaching the window. Searching the rooftops, he saw Carnage swinging two blocks away. He tapped his earpiece and reached Safehouse’s secured line. He told one of Carl’s assistants what had happened after returning home from working on an antibiotic for Spider-Man. The Safehouse operative guaranteed that someone would retrieve his other children from school while a moving crew would arrive within fifteen minutes to help clear out his apartment for a move to the underground revolution.
Not Yet Published (but I am trying) 