Grateful Hero 3: The Legacy of the Goblin

[TheSlag]

Good Stuff, once we got past the "ego part". J/K... looking forward to more.

 

[Alexia Dark]

Webmistress, I like this. Are you going to finish it?

Mmm-hmm. I'm continuously brainstorming for the last chapter and the chapters leading up to it.

BTW, I'm still laughing at what you posted in the Gwen Stacy blog thread. Sometimes, less really is more .

 

[dpm07]

This is really great!

 

[Swordmaster]

Nice

 

[Alexia Dark]

'It's time, Harry', the voice whispered.

Harry opened his eyes, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind as he sat up, but he was too numb to act on it, still half-asleep.

'It's simple. Just follow my directions, and you'll be free.'

Free. It was something Harry had wanted to be since the moment he was brought here. Free... in the back of his mind, he also knew that he wanted to be free of the voice in his head, of the Goblin. But he would never be free.

'Then you can avenge my death,' the voice contiued.'But there is only one way you can become powerful enough to face the one you must destroy.'

"How?," Harry asked.

'You must become what I created. You must live up to my legacy. The Osborn legacy. The legacy of the Goblin.'

Harry's hands shook as he tried to gain resolve. He didn't want to do this... and yet, he had no choice.

"What do I do?"

'I'll tell you soon. Pretend to fall back asleep.'

Harry did so, tryng to stay awake and prepare himself for what would happen next. A minute later, Jeff, the nurse, came in.

"Medication time, Mr. Osborn."

'Just let me take over. This will end soon.'

Harry relaxed, giving up what remaining control he had over his own conciousness. When Harry didn't respond, Jess walked over the the other side of the bed.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," he said, setting the tray down.

Still nothing.

"C'mon, wake up. It's time to take your crazy pills, you dumb-"

Harry's eyes opened as his hand lashed out, grabbing Jeff by the throat, his fingers positioned in such a way that Jeff's attempts to speak only resulted in a strange gurgling sound.

Harry continued to hold on as he got out of the bed, pinning Jeff to the wall. Harry began to protest as Jeff's face contorted with lack of oxygen, but still he held on. He tried to force his hand to open as Jeff slowly lost conciousness, but the Goblin urged him to stop fighting. There was nothing he could do. Jeff died.

'He would've woken up, and the plan would've been ruined,' the voice insisted. A single tear ran down Harry face with shame for what he had done, but he moved as though he were in a daze, removing Jeff's coat and putting it on. The only difference between the patients was a white coat and a an identification tag with a key card, which Harry attached to himself over the coat.

Harry and Jeff looked quite similar; no one would look past his brown hair and sharp features. He lifted Jeff's body onto the bed, positioning him so he faces the wall, and pulled the covers over him.

'Now, just walk out of here. Look straight ahead and don't talk to anyone.'

Harry did as instructed, his tear dried, calming walking down the corridors until he reached the exit, then opened the door with the key card. He threw the coat and tag in the garbage as he crossed the parking lot toward the mansion. Harry stayed out of sight as he neared his house, ducking behind a bush as he saw the guard in front of the door. Oscorp must've hired them to make sure that no one broke in and stole the classified documents kept in the study.

From where the guard stood, Harry would not be able to get to get to any of the other doors without being seen. He waited until the guard turned away to light a cigarette, then sprinted to the next bush, closer to the side of the house and out of view. The guard turned back, oblivious to Harry's movement. Now safe, Harry ran to the back of the house, staring up at the balcony that led to the study.

A lattice board lay against the side of the house, covered in dead rose vines. Harry climbed slowly up the ladder, careful not to look down, the irony of scaling a building in that way hitting him half-way up. The climb seemed impossibly long, but finally he reached the ledge, and pulled himself over it.

Harry spotted a wrought-iron chair next to the doors, and picked it up. They're shouldn't be anyone inside to hear him; if there was... he'd deal with that if it happened. He pulled back and smashed the chair into the door with the lock. The glass shattered, but as the sound faded from his mind, he looked into the room, and the shiver that had always accompanied it didn't happen. He had no reason to be afraid, or ashamed, or angry; he was home.

He walked quickly to the broken mirror, stopping only to shove open both of the balcony doors, and stepped inside. The lights came on as he entered, bathing the equipment in an eerie green glow. Harry picked up the mask that had once belonged to his father, thinking about what it meant.

'The time has come, Harry. Time to fullfill your destiny. To live up to the Osborn legacy...'

"The legacy of the Goblin," Harry whispered in response. He set the mask back on it's stand and looked over at the chamber, beside which stood stacked tubes of Goblin formula and a desk with a computer. Harry removed one of the tubes and placed it in a holder. He typed a code into the computer, and the chamber opened. He stepped inside.

Only once he was inside and the door had closed did he begin to feel nervous. The timer he had set on the computer went off, and the green gas rose through a steel grate beneath him. It enveloped him, entering his blood stream. He began to panic as he started to have trouble breathing. His muscules spasmed, his entire body shaking all on it's own, going numb.

He broke out of his trance, using what little strength he had left to bang against the windows until his legs refused to obey him, and he fell onto the cold metal surface, helpless.

'Sleep. Don't fight it. And when you wake up, you'll be ready.'

Harry took a last breath before falling into unconscious, and used it to offer a single message to someone who he knew couldn't hear him.

"I'm sorry Peter," he whispered, and the blackness closed in.

 

[zer00]

****ing excellent

 

[SpideyLad]

Woo! Atlast, more GH. Fantastic chapter Steph!

 

[The Demon's Head]

So far, It's one of the best fan-fictions I ever read.

 

[Alexia Dark]

Thank you .

Ok... next chapter coming soon...

 

[Swordmaster]

Cool. I love these stories. They are very well done.

*You sound like you're thirty.*

I know

 

[Alexia Dark]

Devon dropped the police report on the table and sat down on his sofa with a sigh. He stayed there a moment, his hands crossed under his chin, staring at the phone. He glanced over at the report again, trying to decide if he should do this. He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Hello?,"Alexia answered.

Devon took a deep breath. Just the sound of her voice brought a vivid image of her, making his heart beat faster.

"Hi, Alexia," he said.

"Devon? What is it?," she asked. She sounded a bit wary, but not as though she were annoyed that he had called.

"I think I've discovered something very important, but I don't have anyone else to talk to about it," Devon replied.

Alexia was silent, and Devon was afraid that she'd hung up.

"What did you find out?", she finally asked.

"I just received a police report about a break in and multiple homicide at an OsCorp warehouse. The place was for storing equipment from abandonned military projects. The things there would've been worth millions if sold to the right people, but barely any of it was taken.

Alexia, everything stolen was from a classified project involving a supposed superhuman formula, along with equipment used by the Green Goblin. Everything he had. Armor, the glider, the special ammunition. I think he's back."

"That's impossible," Alexia said confidently.

"The only other possibility is that we have a copycat. But the eight people murdered at the warehouse were killed with the glider. There's no other ammunition like it in the world, and there are only 3 people who have ever been able to use it. One of them died of cancer last year. One is of them is on duty in Iraq. And the other, the Green Goblin, disappeared 2 years ago.

Unless someone had received secret glider-flying lessons, there's only one person who could've done it. The bastard's alive. I know it."

"What are the police doing about it?," Alexia asked, skeptical.

"They're opening an investigation about it, but they're not going to do anything as long as the military's involved. Not even Jameson will touch it. He told me to file it and not say anything."

He paused, wondering if he should tell her.

"I have a theory," he said.

"Yes?"

"Look at who the Green Goblin targeted 2 years ago. An OsCorp scientist, the only one who objected to the superhuman formula being tested on people. All of the OsCorp board members," he said, then continued, with a bit of pain in his voice, "And researchers and military officials from Quest. Who benefitted from their deaths?"

Alexia didn't say anything. Her silence told him more than words would have; she didn't like where this was going.

"I think I know who it is, but I don't have it all worked out yet. I need proof."

"What are you going to do when you have proof?," Alexia asked, her voice sharp.

"I'm going to tell the world. I'm going to make damn sure that he rots in prison for the rest of his life," Devon respnded darkly, just as much to himself as to Alexia.

"Devon, if what you think is true, if the Green Goblin is back, you know you can't do this. The police won't be able to arrest him. He'll find out who you are, and he'll come after you," Alexia said.

"I don't care. It'll be worth it."

Despite the truth in his words, he instantly regretted saying it to Alexia, afraid she'd hang up, or worse, yell at him. Instead, after a moment, he was surprised by what she had to say.

"I want to help you," she said.

"You do?"

"Yes... I know how much this means to you, and I want to help."

"That's... thank you."

Suddenly, Devon felt a nearly over-whelming sensation... one that he hadn't felt since he was last in her presense. A feeling he'd tried to forget, for all the pain it had caused him because she was gone... love. That was the only way he could say it, the only thing it could be.

"I miss you, Alexia," he said impulsively. But he felt a need to continue, to explain before she could interupt.

"I miss you alot. I... I know this sounds weird, but ever since you broke up with me, I've felt like something has just been missing. I don't understand how it could've happened so fast, but I really think... that I love you," he said. He braced himself for rejection, for the soul-tearing sadness he'd felt outside the cafe.

"I...," she stopped, trying to figure out how to word this without sounding cliche or stupid. "I love you too."

There was silence on both ends, bothing of them facing the truth.

"Why did you break up with me?", Devon asked tentively.

"I'm sorry. I just have... issues with trusting. There are ust some things I can't tell you, and I thought it would be better to leave then to put you through that."

"It doesn't matter. Everyone has secrets."

"Promise you won't ask questions about thing I don't want to talk about?", she asked.

Devon's heart lept at the implication of getting back together.

"I promise."

Alexia tred to calm herself down, to control the situation.

"Okay. How about we meet somewhere and we can try to figure this out. Your theory, I mean," she added awkwardly.

"Sure. What about at that book shop on 57th? The one with the Starbucks in it?"

"Sounds good."

"Okay... 12:00?"

"Okay."

Another awkward silence.

"I'll see you there," Devon said.

"'Bye, " Alexia said.

She hung up, wiping her eyes with her hand, but the tears didn't stop. Devon knew about Norman. She was sure of it. She also knew that Norman would kill anyone in his way. He would never be arrested. Until either she or Peter stopped him - permanently - she knew that he would go after Devon. She had to protect him, even if it meant destroying his one chance at avenging his uncle's death.

Peter and MJ had gone over to MJ's mother's house to plan the wedding. Alexia picked up the phone and dialed MJ's number.

"Hello?"

"Is Peter there? This is very important."

 

[Swordmaster]

Wow just..wow

 

[Alexia Dark]

Thank you .

 

[zer00]

 

[SpideyLad]

In the words of Mr Burns......Excellent

 

[dusk20]

Good work.

 

[dpm07]

You have so much talent, and a wealth of creativity to draw from.

 

[Alexia Dark]

Thank you .

 

[Alexia Dark]

'Ahahahahahahaha!'

The voice echoed through Harry's mind as he slowly regained consciousness, groggy from his unwillful sleep. He stood up slowly, his body aching from its transformation, and opened the door of the chamber.

He started to walk toward the Goblin suit, surveying the equipment around him. But as he reached to open the case, he noticed another one, covered with a white sheet. Curious, he pulled it off.

There in the case was a second Goblin suit, different than the one his father had worn. Though the torso of the suit was very similar, it was a few shades of green darker. A purple bag, so dark it was nearly black, was draped across it, obviously for storing weapons not intended for the glider.

The arms and legs were also a bit different. Round metal spikes adorned the tops of the hands, four on each, designed to add pain to a blow but not to peirce the skin. The boots began just below the knee, made especially to fit into the glider it was meant for, its tips slightly pointed to make a kick break ribs easily.

The mask was like nothing Harry had seen before, not in his father's collection, nor anywhere else; it was made of a flexable material with yellow, glowing eye-peices, the 'skin' a shade of green matching the rest of the suit, it's expression somewhere between a laugh and a menacing glare that would make grown men shake from fright. That was, after all, its intention.

Finishing the suit was a long purple cloak, so dark that only direct light would show that it wasn't black, its hood casting dark shadows over the mask. Harry liked this suit much better.

He opened the back of the case and removed it from the stand. Walking toward the glider that matched it, he began to put the suit on in peices. It was actually comfortable, with an inner layer of rubber beneath the armor and around the elbows and knees, allowing for maximum rotation and movement.

He left the mask until last, holding it in one hand as he pressed a button one the arm of the suit, and the glider rose off of its stand, hovering just above the ground in front of him. Harry strapped himself in.

He flew around the room once tentitively, then again, faster, until it became familiar; his heightened senses reacted in time with the glider, and flying it seemed as natural as walking. He stopped in front of the shelves of pumkin bombs and put as many as he could fit into his bag.

After checking to make sure that the glider's guns were loaded, he flew into the study, where the balcony doors stood open as he had left them. At last, he lifted the mask over his head, a perfect fit. Harry's subconscious could not fight back as he prepared himself for what he needed to do, then flew out of the balcony doors toward the hospital.

A few people on the street below screamed as he appeared over them, instantly reaching for their cell phones but stayed rooted in place. Harry let out a loud, psychotic cackle as he neared the hospital, and crashed through the window of the floor he had been on.

Everyone cried out in alarm, most of them running toward the exit, but Harry beat them there. He spotted a metal railing along the wall and ripped it out, threading it through the pull-open door handles and bent it around into a knot, effectively trapping everyone inside.

That done, he went directly to the psychiatrists office, pushing open the door with one hand. Dr. MacClean jumped out of his chair, backing up against the wall, terrified.

"What do you want?," he asked as Harry circled around the desk, then grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him off the ground, turning him toward the computer.

"Harry Osborn's file. Open it," Harry commanded harshly, in a voice he barely recognized as his own. The doctor did so.

"Change it to say that he was dischraged yesterday afternoon," he continued. The doctor's hands shook, mispelling everything, unable to type.

"Do it!," Harry ordered, impatient.

The doctor forced himself to slow down, back-spacing and filling in the requested date. He saved the file, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Before the doctor could protest or plead with him, Harry hit him hard across the face, breaking his cheek bones and knocking him into unconsciousness.

He flew back out into the main area, removing a pumkin bomb from his bag. But this one was special, filled with enough explosive properties to level the building. He hesitated, using what little control he had left to try to stop himself. He didn't want to do this. So many innocent people would die.

'They don't matter, Harry. None of them matter. If they live, you'll pay the price. The police will hunt you down, and eventually, they'll catch you. Your life will be ruined,' the voice reminded him.

It was true. There was no other option. Harry took a deep breath as he looked at the chaos around him, strengthening his resolve. He needed to do this. For his father. For himself.

Activating the bomb, he threw it at the door as he flew out the window. It rolled a few feet, the light blinking.

It exploded just as Harry reached the end of the block, completely obliterating the hospital, and everyone inside.

 

[Swordmaster]

Bravo! Bravo!

 

[Alexia Dark]

Not many of my regular readers are here tonight... meh, I'll go on with the next chap anyway.

 

[zer00]

****ing excellent

 

[Alexia Dark]

"I can't believe this," Peter said, shaking is head.

"Believe it," Alexia mumbled.

They were walking down 57th street, toward the place that Alexia was supposed to meet Devon.

"How could he know?," Peter asked.

"He's been working on this for years. All he needed to do was look at the connection to Norman; OsCorp," Alexia answered.

"You're absolutely sure he knows?"

Alexia hesitated.

"No... he didn't actually who he thought it was. But if he's focusing on OsCorp, I can't think of anyone else his research would lead to," Alexia replied.

"What are we going to do?," Peter sighed, frustrated.

"About Norman, or about Devon?"

"Both."

"You should be on alert in case Norman comes after you, or MJ. I'm going to help Devon get proof."

At Peter's disbelieving look, she added, "And then I'll desroy it."

It was for his own protection. She didn't even want to think about what might happen afterward, but she knew that this course of action was her only choice. He would hate her, but at least he'd still be alive.

Providing, of course, that she or Peter, though she wasn't sure if Peter could go through with it, could stop Norman permanently, even if it meant killing him. And that Norman wouldn't end up killing them first.

Alexia looked at her watch.

"You'd better go. I can't imagine the questions he'd ask if he knew that you know me, " she said.

Peter nodded.

"Maybe I should ask MJ if she could stay at her mother's for a while," he said, mostly to himself, and started walking in the opposite direction.

Alexia walked into the cafe part of the store and sat down at a table close to the door, early. Her nerves all but literally hummed with nervousness, afraid of what she was about to do, but also anxious to see him.

There was an indescribable moment as Alexia looked up at the doorway where Devon stood, bathed in the late fall sunlight, looking back at her. Almost as if against her will, she stood and went to him. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, only inches apart, studying the other's reaction.

Neither of them knew who made the first move, but they were suddenly in each other's arms, kissing. For both of them, it was as though they'd waited a lifetime for that moment. When they finally pulled apart, Devon hugged her, his head resting on her shoulder.

"I missed you," he whispered.

She returned the hug, both of them fighting back tears.

"I missed you too," she replied.

They seperated, still holding hands, and walked over to the table.

"I don't know what to say," Devon said awkwardly. Alexia smiled nervously.

"How have you been?," Devon asked.

"Things have been a little hectic. Two of my friends are getting married," Alexia answered, then instantly regretted it. The moment she'd seen him, all thoughts of the danger they would soon face had fled her mind.

"I got a new job," she added quickly. Devon smiled, remembering how they had first met.

"What do you do?"

"Same as before, but at a place I'm actually excited about using an employee discount on. I get to dress up in silky black shirts and Gothic make-up and get paid for it, " Alexia replied.

"Sounds nice," Devon commented.

"It is. What have you been up to?," Alexia asked.

"Research, research, and more research," Devon responded. With the implication of what they were actually there to talk about, the feeling between them changed.

"I still hate what this will mean, if you find out who it is," Alexia said. Devon looked down.

"I already know," he said.

Alexia took a deep breath.

"Who is it?"

Alexia felt a sensation like her heart dropping into her stomach as she said the words. This was what she had feared. She wished to every God she'd ever heard of that he was wrong.

"The only one left. The only one who-"

He broke off abruptly as his cell phone rang. He sighed, and at Alexia's reluctant nod, answered it. Alexia watched as shock came over his face.

"The entire building? All of them? Are you sure?," he said into the phone. His expression started to change from shock to the familiar one that he wore whenever the Green Goblin was mentioned, a combination of grief and intense hate.

"Yes. Yes, I'll be right there. Ten minutes," he said, and hung up.

"There's absolutely no doubt now. He's back," Devon said, looking back at Alexia.

"An entire hospital was just blown up. Witnesses say that they saw him fly away," he elaborated.

Alexia remained silent, only nodding. She closed her eyes and opened them again, almost overwhelmed. This was real. It was happening. Now.

"Want to go for a car ride?", Devon asked.

Alexia mumbled a sound of approval. They got up and Alexia followed him to his car.

'Please, let him be wrong', she thought as she got in. 'Let him be wrong.'

 

[zer00]

 

[Swordmaster]

I agree