Ultimate Spider-Woman Issue 6: Escape free porn video

Issue 6: Escape I was in what Blain mockingly called my 'jewellery', manacled, headed to the gym and mulling over my pending identity death. Soon I would be just Jessica Drew, FBI agent and mindless slave to a corrupt government agency. I'd be dead and no one that mattered to me would ever know I ever existed. Yeah. It was a bleak prospect. I pulled weakly against my bonds then turned about and looked accusingly at Blain. We were in the unmonitored corridor. Fluorescent lighting made it feel artificial and lifeless. "I know you heard Doc Phillips Blain. You're always there watching on the other side of the glass. You heard they're going to kill me tonight. You have to help me. You owe me," I pressed. I desperately wanted Blain to help me. I was also going plead with Gong this session. Our last session. Blain shook his head and pressed me forwards. "He saved me. You're not him. Your just a broken copy that they're going to fix," he said coldly. "You know that's a lie. I'm him. If I live I'll do more good, save more lives than these self serving hypocrites ever could. You can't save lives by murdering people. And that's what they're going to do to me. And if you're part of it that makes you a murderer. All the people I don't save... they're on your head too. You kill me and you kill them. You didn't deserve to be saved... and I did anyways. Cause. I'm the same. I'm him... I'm a hero," I said fiercely. "No. You're an experiment. A project. A thing," he said but I sensed a hint of hesitation. I strove to bite back my anger. I needed his help. "The suppressor... disable it... I can-" "Shut up freak," he pushed me into the gym. I saw Gong and a man I didn't recognise. Blain undid my cuffs. I had a bad feeling about this. I'd wanted to be alone with Gong - this interloper complicated things. The new man came forward. He was tall, blonde and fit. He wore a black suit and tie. His glasses were severe whilst his features could be described as handsome there was a smug superiority about him that set me immediately on edge. He was repellent. "Hello Jessica. I'm Henry Gyrich, FBI Section Chief of the OTD," he reached out to shake my hand. I stared at his hand as though it were unclean. No. I wasn't shaking this man's hand. This was the guy in charge. The msn that had ordered my mind wipe and probably signed off the authorisation that made me female and gave me a hysterectomy. I was sorely tempted to punch his lights but. Gong tensed, ready to intercede, sensing my anger. No. I didn't need to be back under lock and key. Not now with my end so close. I needed to escape. It went against everything in me but I didn't attack the pompous ass. "Impressive TLA," I said, unimpressed. Actually my voice dripped raw loathing. Gyrich smirked. "Sarcasm. The lowest form of humour... it stands for Operational Technology Division. Gong tells me you show promise. I value Gong's opinion," he said. "The FBI huh? Isn't it the FBI's mandate to detect and prosecute crimes against the United States..." I asked. "And that is what you shall help us do," he said. "SHEILD has something of a monopoly on super powers. It makes it difficult to achieve our mandate when crimes are committed by super powered beings and we have no ability to respond..." he says. "Your logic is flawed... you're committing crimes against the United States. Killing one of its citizens-" "Oh please. We grew you in a Petri dish. You're hardly a citizen. You're not even human. We did a comparative DNA test. The difference in your genetics to a normal human is on a par with other primates... our lawyers have vetted this and we're on safe legal ground. There are emergency powers under--" "And moral ground?" I growled. "Don't interrupt Jess. We're not killing you... just conditioning you. A bit like one would train a pet," he stated with a sense of authority. "A. Pet," I repeated. Screw this ass hat. Clock cleaning time... I punched the egotistical putz's face with everything I had. Gong moved though and I felt my spider sense tingle as he caught my punch cold. I mean all my momentum just stopped. That just wasn't normal. "What the?" I looked at Gong. He shook his head no then punched me in the solar plexus. I tried to dodge but even with my spider sense I just wasn't in the right position to move enough and my speed just wasn't up to it now. I grunted as I flew backwards. That punch had more force than it should. Like twice as much as it should. Maybe more. It had thrown me. The blow also knocked the wind out of me. I gasped and felt a clammy sweat beading as the nerves around my solar plexus reeled. For a normal person the fight would have been over. But one of my still active powers was my resilience. I feigned that I was out of it for a moment, playing possum. It hurt but didn't incapacitate me. I was fairly certain that Gong has just used some kind of power. I'd seen hints of it before. That had felt like he'd absorbed then redirected the energy of my punch back at me - in addition to his own punch... with interest. Some kind of kinetic energy storing and release power? Right then. Don't hit Gong. Gong approached and he looked calmly down at me. He'd been holding back. So had I. "Jess, don't let your emotions-" I webbed his eyes and his feet. No punches there. Gong let out a strangled cry as he fell. I launched myself at Gyrich. The punch I delivered to his stomach was oh so satisfying. I really should have dismantled the guy. He'd neutered me. Was going to kill me. But I wasn't that type of person. Gyrich was. Gong lay on the ground, hitting himself. Hard. Well it looked hard but there was no real noise of impact. "What are you...?" Then I realised. Gong was storing up kinetic energy. He punched the ground to right himself and then he star jumped, pulling his feet apart and free of the floor. My webbing tore to shreds. He gripped the webbing. "Gong - don't. It's like super glue. I wouldn't..." he pulled, using his kinetic strength. As I'd expected he removed a great deal of skin. His face began to bleed profusely and he screamed in pain. Evidently he wasn't impervious. God how much skin had he just pulled off? That was going to scar. Badly. And then Gong was running at me. I backflipped away, deftly dodging back, not wanting to hit him as he launched a flurry of super fast attacks. I might not have super strength or agility but thanks to past experiences I was no slouch and I'd been training hard over the past weeks. Gong snarled as he lurched past me, his attack going wide. My spider sense went off as Gyrich drew his gun and aimed it unsteadily at me. "Gong, stand down. Jessica, stop. I don't want to kill you but we can always grow more of you." I held up my hands in surrender. I wasn't fast enough to dodge bullets. Gong stalked up and punched me again in the stomach, hard. I grunted as my knees buckled. "Ow..." I complained. "And you wonder why you need to be mind wiped," Gyrich observed. "Nurse Blain. Manacle phase five's and escort her back to her cell. Then come back here and tend to Gong's injuries," I looked at Gong. That was going to scar his face I was sure. He knew it too. There was anger, hurt and hatred in his eyes. I'd just created an enemy. Great. And I'd wanted to ask Gong for help. On the way back to my cell I looked at Blain. "So. Will you help me?" Blain ignored my question. "Or are you just like them?" I asked. There was no answer. *** Someone slipped a white and dark red garment under the door. I stared at it with dread. "Please put on the costume Jessica," a voice instructed over the intercom speaker. I numbly took the outfit and held it up. A one piece suit with a spider motif made for a female figure. I took it glumly and moved to my private bathroom corner, drawing the curtain and stripping. I stared apprehensively at my body. Despite this female form being forced upon me I didn't want to lose it... and I wasn't really going to lose it. I was going to lose my awareness of my body being wrong. Soon someone else, a blank slate, maybe even a real girl, would be looking out through my eyes at my body. I felt almost as sorry for that person as I did for me. How much of me would remain? I just couldn't deal with this. I looked up at the clock. It was late at night. The end of my last day. I feared I was out of time. They were going to kill me. Take away my memories. Erase me. The bastards. I slipped the costume on. Till now I'd favoured shirts and baggy clothing. My girlish figure was fully on display in this costume. I swallowed and stepped out, clearly ill at ease. I stood awkwardly. I didn't like my femininity being so blatantly on display. "Bravo! Bravo Jessica." The normally opaque wall was now clear. I stared out at Ben Reilly - Renfield - and friends. I looked out at my audience. "Don't call me that. Stop calling me that," I said. I'm not her. I'm Peter. Don't kill me. Please don't kill me. "I'm sorry... I really am. I mean no disrespect. That's what today is all about anyhow. You're going to become Jessica Drew today. I told you we had a psych team that will help you with that. Painless. Quick. Meet the person that is going to help you with all of that. Cassandra Webb," I stared at the wizened old lady in the wheel chair. This was her. My murderer. Funny. I'd expected someone more imposing. Black hood. Axe. You know. An executioner. "I know this has been difficult. It'll all be over in a minute," Ben said. It was infuriating. He didn't have the slightest bit of understanding. How would he feel if I murdered him? How would any of them feel? Not happy I bet. These people had purposefully been absent during my last month of rehabilitation and brain shrinking. They'd wanted to keen distant from me because they knew they were murdering me. From a distance I could be objectified. They could convince themselves I was a science project and not a crime against humanity. I just couldn't understand. "Why did you people do this to me?" They were all guilty in my mind. All criminals. But they were educated - scientists, professionals. I looked for Gong, Doctor Phillips, Blain or Gyrich. They weren't there. They could have at least come to say goodbye. Then I felt a strange sensation. Like my ears were popping. Akin to a weight coming off my shoulders. As though the air pressure had dropped or gravity had been reduced. Like somehow I had been freed. Strength coursed through my body. I felt light. Powerful. Super. I grinned. I had my powers back somehow. The suppressor? "Jessica, you know that we-" An earth shattering explosion rocked the installation and people went flying. There was a monstrous inhuman roar and some horrific tendrilous red form tore through the gathered crowd. I caught glimpses of it roiling, twisting form. It oozed menace. Malicious, raw, violence. The sound of its sharp blade like tendrils whipping through the air was disconcerting and the wet thwacking sound of it tearing through the gathered people was stomach turning. This was a nightmare vision made real. "Oh my god! Oh my god!" a hysterical voice yelled. Everyone sensed that something terrible was happening. "It's loose. The Stacy experiment is loose," another frantic voice yelled. There was another bestial roar and a lacerated body flew across the room to hit the other side of my window making me flinch. The body fell but bits of blood and gore remained to dribble down the glass. "Everybody down!" a guard yelled as he opened fire indiscriminately with an automatic pistol, trying to shoot the nightmare thing but hitting bystanders. Wet snapping sounds and anguished cries of pain, strangled sobs of horror and furious bellowing roars filled the room beyond the glass. Ben Reilly went down atop Cassandra Webb. The red thing looked at me. It? The Stacy experiment? I stared in shocked horror as the symbiote roared its mad rage then its tendrilous muscled form bunched foully and it leaped up at the ceiling, smashing out. Whimpers and cries and groans filled the room beyond as I stared in disbelief. Then the door to my cell opened. Was I free?! I stepped out. Hardly believing I'd had a reprieve from my death sentence. And the other clones stepped out cautiously as well. Oh. My. God. That's them. I gaped. A horribly scarred version of Peter, the left half of his face a lump of raw misshapen flesh. He was dressed in a soiled and tattered Spider Man outfit, sans mask. "Whoah!" There was an unhinged naivety to him. I thought of him as half face. Poor guy. There was also six armed, bristle faced, razor toothed, black eyed spider boy, gaping at me and the others. He wore a black outfit. "Okay. This is weird," he observed, familiar joking voice twisted by fangs. Six arms. Maybe being a girl wasn't so bad. "We should get out of here. We should go find MJ," Half face suggested. He seemed to be only half there. Like a lost and broken child. Oh man. Poor thing. I thought. A middle aged man in a suit looked on with mature concern. "No. There's been an accident. Everyone just go back in your rooms and wait for the power " he looked like an old, male me. Damn. This is no accident. Someone turned of the power. Turned off the suppressor. Dr Phillips? Blain? I didn't know. But there was also the symbionts. They'd called it the Stacy Experiment? It killed Gwen so... was that why they'd called it Stacy? "But MJ needs our help," Half face Peter said simply. Yeah, he's not all there. And the one with the green body armour and scorpion tail hadn't even spoken. He'd just stared in confused fear. He looked like he was bugging out. I started to worry. These clones were probably all failures in some way or another. Heck I was a failure. Pete didn't need any of us in his life. "No. We leave Peter and all of them alone." "What is this? What have you done to me??" the Scorpion cried, clearly on the verge of hysteria. This was going south quickly. "Everyone just calm," I urged, trying to bring some order to this little dissociative identity disorder. "Just stay here," the old clone said, trying to be the voice of mature authority. I rolled my eyes as predictably the three other clones reacted. "Yeah, uh no," Six arm responded sarcastically as he turned to leave. "I'm not going to let this happen!" Yelled the Scorpion frantically as he ran and then launched up in a powerful leap, his exoskeleton suit extending upwards to fully encase his face. "We have to save her!" Half face Pete declared single-mindedly, an unhinged edge to his voice as he fled. I stared at the old clone. Idiot. Getting these clones to work together was like herding cats. Clearly none of us had a future here and we all knew it but him. The old guy looked imploringly at me. He wants me to stay and not unleash our insanity on the world. I understood his sentiment. But this was my one chance. If I stayed I was as good as dead. They'd turn me into their mindless agent. Wordlessly I turned, pulled up my mask and leaped up to follow my brethren. My vision swam as some kind of advanced goggle technology in my mask turned on. Night vision. Handy. With the masks back on something clicked inside. I wasn't Peter Parker or Jessica Drew. I was a hero. That same undertone of mischief and humour came back to me. "Big time hero coming through," I announced ironically to the world. I was back. I alighted atop the rooftop in a crouch and watched the three clones swing or leap nimbly away in divergent directions. I alertly searched about and figured out where I was - by the wharves in one of the cities newly reclaimed tech precincts. God after a month of being a prisoner I wanted to just swing out and do some good. Nope. Power and responsibility not just kicking ass and taking names. I felt a moment of indecision. Should I chase after one of the clones? Half face and the Scorpion seemed the most dangerous. But... there was also the Stacy Experiment. I was pretty sure that thing, or something like it, had killed Gwen. It might turn up again at my home and kill Aunt May or MJ. Er Pete's home. It wasn't my home anymore. Whatever. It didn't matter. I had to hunt it. It was headed south last time I saw it... I aimed my fingers and let loose with my webs. That still felt so weird. With my unhindered strength my web line shot considerably further than my mechanical shooters could manage. Not worth giving up my gonads for, but I appreciated the power up all the same. My aim was off. I shot again. Ah. I get it. I leaped and shot, pulled hard on the elastic web, legs kicking, my slim body arcing nimbly between hemming buildings. The movements were familiar but ... not. The webbing had different elasticity than I was used too. Improved elasticity. I considered Hookes law momentarily... damn I'd need to redo my sums. I considered deformation and fracture... yeah I really needed a lab to do some testing. I was lighter of muscle and my distribution of mass was way different now. Wider hips. Chest different. Hmm. Yep. My girlish curves changed up the physics of things noticeably. I'd have to take care at first, particularly given the extreme G forces I experienced when I swung. For a number of really salient reasons I'd need to maintain a girlish figure if I wanted to keep web swinging anything like I used too. Hookes law would apply to me chest... damn you physics. The web swinging wasn't as fluid as it had once felt. Guess I had to relearn the ropes. Webs. Whatever. I reached the top of my arc, hung suspended high in the air for a moment as I arched my back into a graceful dive. I missed this. The pure freedom was exhilarating. Weightless and unfettered I floated, old skills coming back to me, adjusting instinctively for my new form. From my vantage point I scanned. My goggles included the infrared spectrum and they intuitively filtered out the warmth of a red tendril hanging from a distant roof cornice. I swung to it and inspected the remnant.. The thing was decaying rapidly. Wait... my fluid came from me... was it warm? Yeah. It was body temperature and showed up on my goggles. I'd not noticed it was warm before. That was... kinda gross for some reason. I kept following the symbiote. I wondered briefly if it could negate my spider sense. Was I hunting it or was it hunting me? Suddenly without warning there was a red blur and solid mass flew at me. The thing hit me solidly, driving the air from my lungs. The symbiote wrapped barbed tendrils about me as I struggled. My web line snapped and it drove us down through a skylight way below, heavy lead glass and rotted timbers shattering under our combined weight. I webbed and twisted, my grip on my web jerking me free of the thing. I swung swiftly through the dust and cobwebs of the saw tooth trusses, struggling to catch my breath. "Peter!!!" The thing called and shot barbed tendrils which I narrowly evaded by ducking, flipping and rolling, using my wall crawling and gymnastic skills to weave through the roofs trusses and structural timbers. I snagged at a timber beam to change trajectory, spider sense tingling as the old dry rotted wood splintered and crumbled. A shooting barb encircled my wrist and pulled me back, almost yanking my arm from its socket. It's vile maw yawned reminding me of a huge nightmarish anglerfish. "No!" I cried as the thing pulled me in, its malleable jawed mouth engulfing me. Blackness. Pain. Burning. My blood felt like it was boiling. This thing was trying to consume me. "No!" I cried in horrified denial and rallied with all my strength. My face broke free and I gasped for air. It felt like acid. Not just my skin but deep within me! It was killing me. I fought vainly but it engulfed me in its consuming darkness again. Warm pulsing liquid flesh bulged and squirmed about me. It was disgustingly intimate. "Give it back! It's mine!" It gurgled. Horror threatened to unman me. What? Wait. It called me Peter? I reached up to my mask and tore its pulsing flesh away. "Gwen. Stop. You're killing me. Please. Gwen. It's Pete." The pulsing nightmarish blob shuddered and flowed with uncertainty. "Pete?" The words came from more than one mouth. "I'm scared. They had me in some kind of hospital. I'm confused." The thing flowed off me in a surge of vile protoplasm and took on a vaguely humanoid form. I lay there shuddering. Wet from some warm liquid. Feeling weak and utterly exhausted. "You're a girl," it said as its talons caressed my face with something like maternal care. Its face looked like a parody of Gwen's, a red and black liquid replica framed by wickedly sharp barbs that moved and twisted obscenely. Its black liquid eyes regarded me. "You're not Pete... you ... felt ... like Pete. But you aren't." I realised its sinuous curves were oddly feminine. The thing seemed confused and sad as it turned and, bunching its protoplasmic mass, launched fluidly away. I lay there panting in pain, my whole body burning. "Gwen? Oh god what have they done to us?" I sobbed in shock and exhaustion. It had been Gwen. Almost. But not quite. It was an abomination and we had shared an unnatural kinship. Had shared. Just then it had taken something from me... taken something of itself back. We... we were separated now. There was suddenly a hollow emptiness in me that felt like it might never be filled again. Had my link to Pete been enabled through that thing? Was it severed? I lay in the darkness, still aching like I had acid in my blood but the pain gradually receding. Resilient. That was me. I stood unsteadily, body trembling. The symbiote was long gone, along with any of its tendrils. They'd all decayed to dust. No tracking it now. The other three clones could be anywhere. Had it been the symbiote that linked me to Peter. Had that link been broken? I felt like it had. I just knew it. I was now a separate being. I had my powers and my freedom. I could go to Pete's home and guard it... but no doubt they'd expect me or one of the others to do that. Damn Gyrich and his schemes. Not home. Not yet. But... I could sneak back to the prison... they wouldn't suspect that. I could get information... they might have the suppressor running but I'd be careful. I figured I wasn't done with Gyrich, the FBI, Gong, Phillips, Blain and Roxxon. They weren't going to let me just walk away. And I had to find out what happened to Krystal. My mind made up I returned to lurked in the shadows atop the warehouse building directly across the street from my former prison, watching them clean up. There were some injured people being seen too by a doctor and quite a lot of movement from men in suits. FBI agents I intuited. They were loading gear and boxes in black vans. No doubt this facility would soon be a distant memory. Security looked fairly lax though, thanks to the urgency of the operation. Clearly they wanted to cover this up immediately. Time to investigate. I silently swung down to get a better look, wall crawling along the dark fa?ade over the heads of a few guards then dropping noiselessly to a crouch in the loading dock. There was a stack of storage boxes ready to be loaded in a nearby van and I looked them over, one catching my eye. Hmm. One had the same code as my wrist tag. Mine. I took it and on an impulse the box with the number preceding it. "Hey you. Clone 5. Jessica! Stop," a man yelled. "Security! Get Gyrich!" "Sorry. Gotta go!" I said, taking note of the vans number plate and then hefting my loot. I swung away. There were suddenly alarms and the distant report of gunfire followed by bullets flying about me. Well I guess they don't want me alive. What else is new? Several blocks away I paused atop a deserted roof top and by the glow of a dim security light looked through my box. Ten spider woman uniforms, a portable USB drive and some kind of equipment. Well that's handy. Hmmm. There were four neat envelopes... interesting. The other box contained a suit of green armour. I held it up. It was heavy and had some power functions. It might fit me. It didn't have a tail... maybe it was a prototype for the green armoured clone? Green? I made a sour face. Below I noted more envelopes, some files, some equipment and a USB. Packing away the armor I opened the first envelope from my box. A passport. I flipped through it. Julia Carpenter was the name listed. There was also a drivers licence, a printout with a social security number, a birth certificate, a gold MasterCard, and an FBI identification. "Holy..." I muttered. The date of birth nearly matched mine but the year of birth placed me older. Eighteen years old? Not fifteen or a month? Interesting. Youngest FBI agent ever... but the FBI badge had no date of birth. I wrapped the ID up again. The next was Martha Franklin, also eighteen years old. I flipped through the same identification papers including MasterCard and frowned when I came to a private investigators licence instead of an FBI badge. Mattie Franklin, Alias Investigations, with an address on Ninth Avenue? I couldn't imagine being a gumshoe convincingly. Even eighteen is a stretch. I shook my head. Not for a while. I put it away I wondered how extensive the identity is. Was there really a Hells Kitchen office? I shrugged. It gave me options. There was Jessica Drew, age fifteen. Photoshopped family pictures of mum, dad, brother, family dog, friends and everything. That is disturbing. Rent a family? How...? Must have used pictures of me as I grew. Then I found her... my school transcript. Holy crap! All the classes I'd intended on taking completed with a 4.33 GPA? God. I felt like a dirty cheater just looking at this. A fake. I started to cry and went to screw it up but stopped myself. I resolved to finish my classes and get these grades somehow... then it would be real and I could use it. Finally there was Charlotte Witter, fifteen year old homeless girl with a juvenile a rap sheet. No credit cards, drivers licence. Just a birth certificate and some school transcripts. Interesting. I'm a bad girl. I chuckled. Resisting arrest. Assault. Vandalism. Disorderly conduct. New York City Central Park Curfew Violations. Hang on. This is... God I've pretty much done all of this stuff. Hah. Someone has a sense of humour. I laughed, a sound edged with unease not humour. Four fake identities. Interesting. Useful too if they were as complete as the FBI could make them... Except the FBI knew all of them. Damn. Still, in the eyes of the law I existed. I felt a strange surge of relief. I could be a problem girl, a PI,FBI agent or just plain old Jessica Drew. I had options. Unless the FBI cancelled the ID's. But then I might not use them. No. They'd keep them alive and track them. I felt certain. So. Where to go? I'd need money, regular street clothes... my stomach rumbled... Some food.. I should tell Pete but this will drive him nuts. It's driving me nuts. God I've been so preoccupied with my mind wipe I never planned for this. A life as a girl. Holy crap. The rest of my life as a girl. The enormity of that prospect was mind blowing. Can't worry about that. Got the rest of my life to do that. No. There is a symbiote loose along with three clones with varying degrees of sanity. Plus I'm an escaped government experiment. How embarrassing for them. Not for me though. Wearing skin tight spandex that makes me feel nearly naked in public with a clearly female body. Yep. Not embarrassing for me. Focus. But where to go? I don't want to see him. See me. But his home would probably be where the clones and the symbiote would end up going. I was tired, hungry and needed a place to store this stuff. I flicked through my identification till I found the MasterCards. On the back of each was a printout with a PIN and bank details. How long till they cancel these? Probably never. Again they will likely use them to track me. Right... cash withdrawal. I swung to a nearby ATM and put the card in the machine. No money in the account. Of course. None in any of them. Parker luck again. But I was a Drew right!? I needed to stash all this stuff. There was a place that I'd seen one time. A rooftop lean too, a tiny disused storage shed on a run down apartment building near the Queensboro Bridge. I swung too it with my boxes and looked about. The roof was deserted and judging by the rubbish and neglect had been for a while. I opened the door and pigeons flew out with a clattering of wings. The place was filthy with bird poo, feathers, dust, cobwebs and rat poo. Under a tarp within the tiny shed I found an old rusted but servicable bike, tools, some camping gear in a moth eaten hiking back pack, including a smelly old sleeping bag, portable stove and quarter full mini gas bottle, some dehydrated food, army style canteen cup and cutlery and other junk. I stashed my boxes in the shed at the back under a tarp. Rummaging through things further I unearthed a chain and padlock which I used to lock up the shed. I hid the key to the shed under an empty pot. Then I secured the door up to the rooftop from the building below by snapping off the door handle and wedging a small crowbar into the door jam. This was a good Spidey hidey hole for gear but not a good place to sleep. Too cramped and drafty. Pigeon crap everywhere. Nope... The warehouse. The place where MJ and I met. It was big. I could hide and sleep there. God I was tired. Making all this webbing drained me. I needed food. I grabbed the hiking pack and made my way to the warehouse. Once there I filled my canteen with water from a tap in a nearby courtyard then made up my stolen chow in an inaccessible roof loft space. It was dusty and cold but I didn't care. The food was way past its best before date and not a patch on my prison food but I didn't care. It tasted of freedom. I ate in the dark using my mask goggles to see by. Physically and emotionally I was exhausted. Hardly thinking I crawled into my stinky sleeping bag and went to sleep. *** "MJ?" A voice called. It sounded odd but familiar. Like hearing your voice on a home video. I shook of my sleep. Sleep. Without dreams of Pete. I had been right. The Symbiote had severed our link. And I'd slept all day. I felt refreshed. Hang on who was calling for MJ? Oh god. That was... "MJ?" Peter Parker called again. He was clearly very worried. That was me. Him. The real Spider-Man. He was looking for MJ. Why did that suddenly worry me? I pulled on my mask and silently dropped down to the floor from my sleeping loft. Damn. Why had I come here. Stupid! Then I saw him. It was just like watching a home video. If your home movies were horror movies. "Sorry, tiger..." I said. God this was weird. I stared at myself. Total out of body experience... why did I say that though? That was completely MJ. "Well, this is this is awkward," I stared at me. Pete stared back at me. Weird. So weird. "Who are you?" he growled aggressively. Oh my god. He was so angry. Like villains I fought. Seeing the red. I was that guy?! My jaw dropped as I saw a new side of myself. "Um..." I switched gears. "Who do I look like?" How was I going to break this too him? I'd not thought this through His face showed fear and suspicion. On some level he knew what I was. But he was denying it. Denial. The first stage... then came anger... yeah I knew this guy. "I don't care. Where is MJ?" he continued intimidatingly. "Mary Jane Watson. I'm not her, if that's what you think. That would be so creepy as opposed to this thing here which isn't creepy at all," I observed uncomfortably. There was this huge elephant in the room. "Where is she?!!!" He was getting angrier. Yelling. Lost in the red mist of anger... "I wouldn't know! I don't get to be part of that," I resented him for the life I could not have, that he didn't seem to appreciate or deserve. I was angry at myself for coming here. But, most of all I was scared for MJ... I felt powerless. I didn't want those I loved hurt even though I'd decided to not be part of their lives. "I want to know what is going on here!! What is going on here??!! Give me MJ! I mean it!! There is nothing I won't do to protect her," he was shouting angrily at me. Accusing me! He was an utter ass. "Yeah? Great job so far," I snarked. Again not the best thing to say but this meeting of selves was getting schizophrenic. "Hrra!"He launched at me, going for my throat, snarling like a villain. "Where is she?!!!!" He grabbed at me. I leapfrogged him and pushed him back behind me. "Hey!" I cried. Pete smashed into the wall behind me with a crash of wood and junk. He clumsily fell atop an old car tyre. "Where is she?!" He turned and threw the rubber wheel at me. "You don't get to touch me!" I snapped as I jumped the missile and it wreaked devastation behind me. He was out of control but I wasn't getting any calmer. "Okay?? You understand me?" I angrily punched Pete, surprised by my own vehemence. I was Me. Not him. He didn't own me. Didn't get to enter my personal space. Attack me. This wasn't my fault. I had his back and he was attacking me! "Wereargh!?" He cried in surprise. I wasn't pulling my punches. He could take it. I needed to knock some sense into this idiot. "Just stop it!" I grabbed him and threw him across the room. God he was stupid. I was such an ass! This was escalating much too fast. "Hey!! I'm not going to fight you. It's not happening," I growled. I felt like I was fighting with myself. Funny that. Not. "Where is she?!" He was all anger and frustration and fear. He wasn't thinking. Just reacting. Grabbing a a metal; pipe as a weapon. I didn't need my spider sense to tell me what he was going to do. "You're completely off your game anyhow," I observed. He was as. He must have run across another clone... he was looking for MJ. Oh crap. What had the others clones done? "How would I know where Mary-Jane is? Seriously, come on, man. You'd think you would just deal with the implication of what is going on right in front of-come on!!"I dodged the metal pipe thrown at me. That could have killed me! "Fine!" I webbed his face up. That's the best way to deal with idiots blinded by rage. "Agh!" He cried as he lurched back into a support and the roof tumbled down atop him, burying him under a ton of bricks, timber and other junk. Dust bloomed from the wreckage: A single limp hand poked up through the bricks, steel and broken timbers. "Oh my god..." I swore as I realised I might have killed him. I rushed forward and checked his pulse. "Whew. Okay. You're okay... He scared me. I shouldn't have come here," I turned and spoke to his buried firm. "This was my fault. I just had to see this for real. I'll get them back for you, Peter. I'll do it for all of us. We didn't deserve this," And I swung off. That could have gone better. I was glad I hadn't killed him... but... where was MJ? Where should I go too? Things seemed to be falling apart... maybe the clones would go to places they knew. Home. School. Here... what other safe places were there. The Bugle? No. The house. I should stake out the house. But first I needed to see who else was staking it out.