Grateful Hero 3: The Legacy of the Goblin

Alexia Dark

Warrior Princess
Sep 24, 2004
Reaction score
First things first...

Rating: PG 13(US), PG 14(Canada), 15(UK), for extreme violence and imaginative gore.

Directed by: Webmistress_O4

Writing Credits: Webmistress_O4 (script, screenplay, executive producer, yeah, okay, get over your ego trip, Webby...)


Dagmara Dominczyk as Alexia Dark/Spider-Woman:


Tobey Maguire as Peter Parker/Spider-Man:


James Franco as Harry Obsorn/The Green Goblin II:


Victor Webster as Devon Smith:


Kirsten Dunst as Mary Jane Watson (-Parker? :p)


Willem Dafoe as Norman Osborn/The Green Goblin


And of course, the other must-haves:

Rosemary Harris as Aunt May

Bruce Campbell as rude engagement ring salesman

Stan Lee as an old patient at Midtown Hospital

Numerous crew people's kids wandering around

Tobey's little half-brothers doing... something...

Also with:

Tim De Zarn as Philip Watson

Taylor Gilbert as Madeline Watson

Joe Manganiello as Flash (Eugene) Thompson

And that actress girl who handed the note to John

Moral support and spoiler relief guy: Cconn


Norman is back in New York, and he's ready to paint the town red, literally. Harry is in a mental hospital. Alexia has left Devon, fearing for his safety. Peter and MJ are planning their wedding.

When Devon contacts Alexia with important information, claiming to know who the Green Goblin was, she agrees to meet with him. But when they meet again, Alexia finds that she doesn't want to be with him just to protect him, but because she loves him.

Under the control of the Goblin, Harry is able to escape from the hospital, leaving carnage in his wake. There is no going back. The only option left is to take up his inheritance, his father's legacy... the legacy of the Goblin.
Alexia's boyfriend. His uncle was killed in GG's bombing of the Quest Aerospace compound in SM1. He's a reporter for the Bugle. It's his job to follow Spidey around and make reports, in hopes of finding out who GG is, if he really died, and to get justice if he didn't.
I'm guessing by the title, The Green Goblin is back....Excellent
"What do you think of that one?," Peter asked, pointing to a small gold ring with a circular-cut diamond.

"It's nice, but we'll be lucky to afford a wedding in ten years if we get it," MJ said. Peter frowned, nodding. The ring was probably the cheapest one in the store, and he still couldn't afford it.

"Maybe we should just elope to las Vegas," MJ said, but she wasn't serious. She and Peter had already agreed that their wedding would be done properly, witnessed by friends and family.

"Can I help you, sir?," said a salesman with a rude, sarcastic tone. He looked a bit familiar to Peter, but he couldn't quite place him. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with brown hair and an arrogant, annoyed expression. The nametag on his suit said 'Bruce.'

"No," Peter said, looking down.

"Well, are you buying a ring or not?," he said as he leaned forward and said in a low, almost conspiratal tone,"You're taking up counter space."

"We're still looking," MJ interjected.

"By all means, take all the time you need. It's not like there are customers who can actually afford a ring here," Bruce said sarcastically.

MJ took Peter's hand and pulled him away from the counter.

"Come on, Peter. I'm sure we can find a pawn shop with better rings than this junk," MJ said, disgusted.

They exited the store and started to walk towards Central Park, to a pawn shop they'd seen in the paper. They stopped as MJ's cell phone rang. MJ had bought it a few weeks before the proposal, and now regretted it.

"Hello," she asked.

"I've got some exciting news, Mary Jane."

It was her father. She smiled. He sounded happy and sober, a rare combination.

"What is it?," she asked.

"I got a deal on that book I wrote. The publisher said it could be a best-seller!," her father said.

"That's great."

"How have you been, anyway. I haven't seen you in awhile."

MJ looked at Peter and smiled.

"I'm getting married."

"You're sure this time?," her father asked, protective.

"Yes, I'm very sure, Dad."

"Who is he?"

"Dad, you remember Peter Parker, right? He used to live next door to us."

"The one your mom always bragged about with May?"


"He seems like a nice boy. I hopehe'll make you happy. How are you paying for the wedding?," he asked.

MJ froned, sitting down on a nearby bench.

"We're still working on that."

"Well, I'm getting a big advance on this book. I'll pay for it."

"You will?," MJ asked, surprised.


"Thak you. Wow. I... thank you."

"You're welcome. MJ, you deserve it. I was a crappy father to you. This is just part of me saying sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"It's not enough to say sorry. I don't deserve your forgiveness yet. But maybe down the road I will. I have to go, MJ. Write down a list of all the things you need, and plan with your mother," he said.




MJ hung up and looked at Peter, smiling.

"My dad's paying for the wedding!," she said.

"That's great," Peter said with a smile.

MJ hugged him, then opened her cell phone again.

"I have to call my mom."

I look forward to the upcoming chapters.....
(This was originally a homework assignment :))

"You made all this yourself, Aunt May?," Peter asked. May shrugged in a dismissive gesture.

"I don't have much to occupy my time anymore. It kept me busy, at least," she said, setting down a glass dish full of mashed potatoes. On the table in front of her was a traditional Thanksgiving dinner; turkey, stuffing, cranberries, and a variety of mashed vegetables.

"I would've helped," MJ said.

"Thank you, Mary Jane, but I didn't need the help. Where is that new friend of yours, Peter?," May asked.

"I'm sure she'll be here soon," Peter responded.

May was just about to put the pumkin pie in the oven to keep it warm when there was a knock on the door. May answered it.

"Sorry I'm late. There's some pretty heavy traffic out there," Alexia lied, standing in the doorway. Well, it wasn't really a lie. Traffic had slowed down quite a bit while she's been busy dragging people out of their cars after an accident.

"No problem, dear," May said, brightly, stepping back to allow Alexia in, "So you're the friend Peter's been talking about. What's your name again?"


"Alexia. That's a pretty name. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm famished. Why don't we sit down and say grace so we can eat?," May suggested.

They all sat down, and May led them in a little prayer. The moment passed, and they started serving themselves.

"So, Alexia, tell me about yourself. How did you and Peter meet?," May asked.

Alexia glanced over at Peter and MJ, thinking. She hoped that Peter hadn't said anything that could contradict her.

"Well, we live in the same building. I saw him in the hallway the day I moved in. I thought I'd seen him before, and we talked a bit. We go to the same university, so I must have seen him there. Then our classes did a project together. After awhile, we sort of became friends," Alexia compromised.

"Alexia's going to be a bridesmaid at the wedding," MJ added.

They'd told May about the wedding a few weeks ago. She'd seemed maybe the happiest she'd been since Ben had died.

"How wonderful! Is Harry going to be the best man?," May asked hopefully.

Peter almost winced at the question, looking down.



"We had a fight," Peter said.

"Over what?," May inquired.

"Just... occupational differences," Peter said.

May nodded in understanding. Another fight over Spider-Man. She'd witnessed a few of those, though the arguments had qickly stoped once they realized that she could hear them. Everyone had gone silent, so she decided to change the subject.

"What are you taking at the university, Alexia?," she asked.

"A bunch of fashion-related courses. I'm still not sure what kind of career I want," Alexia said.

It was true. There was a time when she could've settled for sitting in front of a camera for a living, but not now. She'd considered becoming a police officer, but she would be too close to other people in that job; one small mistake and her secret would be out. She was considering similar jobs, but she wasn't quite sure which one would be best.

They talked about nothing important for the rest of the meal. They all offered to help with the clean-up, but May politely refused.

Peter and MJ sat in the living room discussing the wedding, while Alexia thought about Devon. Had she dumped him too suddenly? Should she have given him a reason? But what could she have told him? 'I can't go out with you, because I'm afraid that you're going to get electricuted or thrown off a bridge if I stay with you'?

"How long are you able to stay, Alexia?," May asked from the kitchen.

Just then, a stream of police cars blaring their sirens passed on the street below. Peter and Alexia exchanged a knowing look. Then both of them looked at MJ. She nodded.

"Actually, I should be going. I have a lot of homework to do," she lied.

"We should be going, too. Lots of planning to do before the wedding," Peter added.

"So quickly? Would you like to take the leftover pie home?," May asked, coming out of the kitchen with the pie already wrapped in plastic.

"I'd love to, but we really have to go, " Peter said, giving May a kiss on the cheek as he opened the door.

"Thank you for the lovely dinner, Mrs. Parker," Alexia said.

They all hurried out of the apartment, leaving a confused Aunt May looking out the window with the pie and listening to the fading sirens.

I was thinking up chapters anyway, and I had an assignment that required me to write an introduction between characters from a book. My teacher knows all about my stories, and said that using my own story for assignments would be good.
You're quite flattering for someone who dragged me into a fake reality show on the internet, in which I cannot even play myself.
'Wake up, Harry,' the voice whispered. Harry put his pillow over his head to block out the light filtering through the window in the door across the room.

'Wake up! It's almost time!'

Harry opened his eyes and glanced at the plexiglass window outside. It was dark.

"Time for what? It's the middle of the night," Harry muttered.

'Don't tell me you've forgotten. You can't have forgotten', it said.

"Forgot what? I'm not even awake yet. Go away."

'Don't you remember what day it is... ?,' it asked.

It didn't wait fora reply, but showed him. Images flashed before Harry's eyes; his father talking to him in the car, visiting the apartment, hugging him and apologizing for not being there for him, and finally, his own point of view as he cried beside the bed where his father's body lay, lifeless. Harry remembered. It was the day after Thanksgiving. The anniversery of his father's death.

'I loved you, Harry. I didn't get the chance to tell you that, and now it's too late. You could've made me proud, son. You were on the right path. You could have made me so proud...'

"It's not fair," Harry whispered, starting to forget everything.

'Exactly. It's not fair. You deserved that chance. It shouldn't have been taken away from you. But it was. And there's nothing you can do about it,' the voice said.

"There must be something I can do. It's not fair. I miss you so much," Harry said, starting to cry.

'There's nothing you can do to bring me back. But you can still make me proud, Harry'.


There were images again, of Peter, lying to harry at his birhtday party, at the planitaruim, and unmasked in the study, angry as he tore the barbed wire off of him. Then there was a final, lasting image; Spider-Man standing beside his father's dead body.

'You know what you need to do, Harry.'

"But Peter's my best friend..."

"He was your friend, Harry. He lied to you. He killed me. And then he pretended to be your friend as if nothing had happened. He's a liar. Liars don't deserve your friendship.'

Someone turned on another light in the hallway, and Norman's reflection appeared in the window.

"Dad?," Harry said. He was losing control of his thoughts. Nothing made sense anymore.

'You can still make me proud, Harry. You want to make me proud, don't you?'


'You know what you need to do?'

'Yes. But how? I'm stuck in here. There's no one to sign me out."

'I can get you out of here, but I need your help. You'll have to follow my instructions.'

"What do I do?"

'Get some rest. I'll tell you what to do in the morning. Today, we're getting out of here.'

Harry didn't notice the verbal slip in the statement. He was too tired to care.

'Can you do it, Harry? What are you willing to do for me?'


Harry blinked, and when he opened his eyes, his father's reflection was gone. He fell asleep.
Everybody(assuming that people actually come here), go back and read the rating and synopsis in the first post.
Excellent, Steph. Loved the third chapter. Dafoe's brilliant even when he's not involved. :confused::up:
Webmistress_O4 said:
You're quite flattering for someone who dragged me into a fake reality show on the internet, in which I cannot even play myself.

I'm not always a jerk. ;)
When the non-******* side of you eventually shows up, let me know :up:.
CConn said:
Excellent, Steph. Loved the third chapter. Dafoe's brilliant even when he's not involved. :confused::up:

you can just picture his teeth:(
"Stop here," Norman ordered.

The large van, towing a black moving truck, parked alongside a barbed wire fence surrounding a military warehouse. Norman opened passenger-side door and got out.

"Wait here," he said to the men in the van as he closed the door.

He walked up to the fence. The warehouse was usually guarded during the day, and at night, the fence was electrified. It was early in the morning, too dark for anyone to see him, although that soon wouldn't matter. Norman jumped over the fence gracefully, landing on his feet, next to the security panel beside the gate. Opening the panel, he typed in the security code from memory, and the gates opened.

"How'd you open the gate?," one of the men asked. Norman grabbed the man's arm as the others headed toward the warehouse.

"Don't question me. I'm paying you to move equipment, not to think," Norman snarled.

The man, a 6-foot, 4-inch ex-convict, winced. From his grip or from the menacing look in his eye, Norman didn't know, and didn't care. He entered a second security code beside the warehouse door, then waved to the driver. The van drove into the warehouse loading area, behind the other men. Norman immediately headed for the next room, where the equipment he was looking for was kept.

"Holy ****," the ex-con whispered.

In front of them was a full collection of the Green Goblin's equipment and weaponry.

"What are you waiting for? Pack it all up," Norman ordered.

The men reluctantly began to load everything into the moving truck. After the bombs and special ammunition for the glider had been packed away, the ex-con turned to face the task of removing a Goblin suit from its case, one different from what he'd seen in the paper. Just looking at the mask, so life-like and mocking, gave him the shivers.

"Hey, Tom, what do you think this is?," a man asked, holding a case full of stacked tubes containing green liquid.

"No idea, and I don't care. Hurry up. This place gives me the creeps," Tom responded.

The man nodded, and Tom turned back toward the Goblin suit. As he looked at the case, he stumbled back, barely catching himself on an empty crate. The suit was gone.

"Where's Mr. Sinclair?," he called out.

"Right here," Norman answered, rising up from behind the steel-backed case on the glider.

"But that's Goblin to you. The Green Goblin."

The other workers had stopped what they were doing, staring.
One of them suddenly ran for the door. The Green Goblin fired off a round of bullets into the man as he pressed a button on a remote he had in his hand, and all of the exits closed. The man was knocked into the wall behind him, his blood drenching it as he slumped to the ground, dead. They were trapped.

"Fools," The Green Goblin commented.

The others scattered in all directions, trying to hide behind cases and crates. Norman laughed as he grabbed one of them by the shirt, opening fire on the others. He flew right by the glass case, extending his arm. Glass pelted down on Tom as the man smashed through the case, landing on a large, jagged peice that had become wedged into the stand for the suit. His eyes glazed over in horror, blood dripping from his mouth.

Tom had fallen as the first shots had been fired, sitting against the case with his hands around his knees. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of screaming and gunfire. Suddenly, it stopped. Everything was silent except for his own terrified, ragged breath.

He waited for a few moments, deciding what to do, then got up and ran to the door, banging on it and trying to find a way out. He heard the crackle of glass beneath a foot, and turned.

Before he could even take a breath, a hand wrapped around his throat, and he was lifted off the ground. The Green Goblin, now off of the glider, laughed at him.

"Did you really think that you could get away?," he asked, amused.

Tom clawed at the hand in vain, black dots starting to dance across his eyes.

"Let me go," he croaked in desperation.

"After what you've seen?," Norman replied.

"Please. I won't tell anyone, I promise," Tom pleased, starting to cough.

"I can't do that. Sorry. I have great plans for this city, and they're not about to be ruined by some low-life street thug like you."

Norman squeezed, and there was a loud crack as Tom's neck broke. Norman dropped him on the ground like a defective toy, and walked over to the glider. He picked it up and pressed a button on his remote. The doors opened. He threw the glider into the back of the moving truck. He took off the Goblin armor, his clothes underneath it, and placed the armor on the floor of the van's passenger seat. He got into the driver's side.

It was the anniversery of his supposed death, and it would be the anniversery of his return to his rightful identity; that of the Green Goblin.

'It's good to be back,' he thought, and drove away.
Excellent so far.......I look forward to seeing more.

Users who are viewing this thread

monitoring_string = "afb8e5d7348ab9e99f73cba908f10802"