EVER feel like the universe has a twisted sense of humor?
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Yeah, that's pretty much my life.
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I'm Peter Parker. Six months ago, a radioactive spider decided to make me its personal science experiment. Overnight, I went from awkward teen to... well, awkward teen with superpowers.
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At first, I thought that bite was the moment everything changed.
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I was wrong.
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See, that spider gave me strength, speed, and sixth sense that puts seeing dead people to shame—it's a movie reference—Anyways, I used them to make money, thought I was helping out at home.
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Thought that was the reason I got these powers.
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Wrong again.
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The real moment that changed my life was the day I lost Uncle Ben. That's when I realized something he used to always tell me, something I didn't quite get until it was too late...
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With great power comes great responsibility.
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So now, I'm the "Amazing Spider-Man." Okay, amazing might be pushing it. How about the "Spectacular Spider-Man"? ...No? Alright, we'll stick with Spider-Man for now.
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And what does that job entail? Usually keeping the city safe from your everyday criminals like...
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"The Easter Bunny?" I mutter, swinging onto the scene. A girl in a rabbit suit is sprinting out of a bank with a bag of cash.
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No way. The Easter Bunny robs banks?
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I fire a web at the money bag, stopping her in her tracks. "What's up, doc?"
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She turns to me, unimpressed. "Wrong rabbit, genius." Then she yanks me in by my own web and clocks me across the face.
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I just got punched by a rabbit.
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Awesome.
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I flip backwards, dodging her next swing, and start webbing her up from all angles. She's fast, but I'm faster. Before she can finish her next insult, I have her cocooned in webbing. "Hey, what are you mmmrrfffff—"
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"Silly rabbit," I grin, pulling out a scrap of paper from my backpack, "bank robberies are for felons." I say with a smile, scribbling "busted" on the scrap of paper, slapping it on her forehead, and taking out my phone for a quick selfie. "Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm late for class. Say cheese!"
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She glares through the webbing, muttering angrily.
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"Good enough," I say, snapping the picture just as the cops roll up. "Finally! This Spider's got a tight schedule, y'know?"
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Captain Stacy steps out of his squad car. He looks at me, hand hovering near his gun. Used to be friends with his daughter, Gwen, back when things were simpler. But these days, we're not exactly in the same social circles.
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"You know we're going to have to bring you in for—"
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"Yeah, yeah, paperwork's not really my thing," I say, firing a webline to the nearest rooftop. "You guys got this, right? Cool! See ya!"
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I swing off, bouncing between rooftops.
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Losing Uncle Ben taught me something I'll never forget. I hung up the wrestling suit and built myself these web-shooters. I promised to never let these powers go to waste again.
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Because now, I know better.
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I've got a responsibility.
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And right now, that's making it to school.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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"Peter? Peter, you there?"
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I snap out of my daze and look up from my desk. "Yeah, sorry. You were saying something about... lizards?"
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"Lizards? What?" Harry raises an eyebrow. "No, dude. I was asking if I should ask out Felicia. Good idea or bad idea? And just so you know, even if you say no, I'm still doing it."
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I shrug, trying to keep my face neutral. "I don't know, man. She's... strange."
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"Strange? By strange do you mean hot? 'Cause in that case, she's super strange. Mega strange." Harry glances over to where Felicia's sitting at the back of the class, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, definitely strange."
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I glance over at her too. Felicia Hardy, all black leather and a permanent "don't talk to me" vibe. She's like the human version of a locked door—mysterious, with "stay out" written all over her. "No, I mean regular strange. Like, why does she always wear black? Why does she hide cats in her locker? And where did she even come from?"
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Harry shrugs, already standing up. "Don't know. Don't care." He flashes me a grin. "Watch and learn, Parker."
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I laugh under my breath. "Yeah, sure. Don't say I didn't warn you."
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"You didn't."
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We stare at each other for a beat.
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"Okay, well... now I am. Don't do it, Harry."
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Harry rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Just sit back, Parker, I've got this."
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I watch him swagger over to Felicia's desk, placing his hand on it like he's auditioning for a teen drama. Felicia's face morphs from bored indifference to... well, disgust. Classic.
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I turn away before I have to witness the train wreck. Instead, I try to refocus on last night's run-in with the Lizard. Dr. Connors, again. He'd gotten away—again. Seriously, is there some kind of bad guy handbook on escaping? Because if there is, I'd like to borrow a copy. I've only been doing this Spider-Man thing for six months, but every time it feels like I'm on the edge of flunking my superhero midterms.
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And my ribs? Don't get me started. I'm pretty sure they've all been individually introduced to every wall in the city.
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"Yo, Peter! Got someone I want you to meet," Harry calls out, snapping me back to reality.
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I turn and freeze. There's Harry, grinning ear to ear with Felicia... hanging on his arm. Like, hanging. Her head's resting on his shoulder, and she's practically glued to his side.
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"I think we've met," I say, trying not to sound as awkward as I feel. I avoid looking directly at her, like she might turn me to stone or something.
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Harry's beaming. "Well, let me officially introduce you to my girlfriend." He looks so proud, I half-expect a choir to start singing in the background.
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Felicia gives me a half-smile and extends a hand. "Nice to meet you. Hope we can get along."
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I shake her hand, trying not to let it feel as weird as it does. "Uh, yeah. Same."
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"You got any plans tonight, Pete?" Harry asks.
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Plans? I mean, Peter Parker doesn't. But Spider-Man? Oh, he's got a full schedule, courtesy of one giant, rampaging reptile. Can't exactly let Dr. Connors keep running around the sewers turning people into Jurassic Park extras.
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"Actually, I—"
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"Perfect!" Harry cuts me off. "You can come by my place at nine. I wanna show Felicia that project we've been working on." He squeezes her tighter, grinning.
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I open my mouth to protest. "Well, I was actually—"
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"I don't know, Harry," Felicia purrs, giving me a sly look. "Peter seems like a pretty busy guy. Probably doing someone's homework or something."
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I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to say something snarky.
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Harry, oblivious as always, laughs. "Nah, Peter only does my homework."
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Felicia leans into him, her smile growing. "Come on, Harry. I thought tonight was supposed to be just us."
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Harry looks torn for half a second before grinning again. "Yeah... but Pete's my best friend. He's gotta come. Right, Pete?"
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And now I'm stuck. He's giving me that look. The one that says, "You're my best friend. Don't leave me hanging." How am I supposed to say no to that?
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"And also," Harry adds, "he makes a mean lasagna. Figured he could whip up something for our first official couple meal."
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I let out a long, defeated sigh. "Yeah... sure. Just for tonight."
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Harry beams, and Felicia throws me a look that's somewhere between amused and smug.
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Spider-Man's getting the night off.
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But is this really the right thing to do? The city's got a Lizard problem, and here I am agreeing to play third wheel. Maybe I can sneak out later.
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Besides, how much trouble can a giant lizard get into in a few hours, right?
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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"Peter, good to see you. How's your aunt?"
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Mr. Osborn greets us at the door, flashing that easy, practiced smile. There's something about him—he's always so nice to me. If I had a dad like him, life would be... different. The warmth, the money. Yeah, I wouldn't complain.
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I grin back. "I'm good, Sir. And Aunt May's as vibrant as ever. She's still just keeping herself busy at the restaurant."
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"That's great to hear." His smile widens, genuine. Then his eyes shift to Felicia, that Osborn charm working overtime. "And who is this?"
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Harry nudges her forward with a proud grin. "Dad, this is my new girlfriend."
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Felicia, cool as ever, gives a small smirk. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Osborn."
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"The pleasure's all mine," he says, nodding. "Please, come in. I was just about to start dinner. Harry, any requests?"
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Harry doesn't skip a beat. "Actually, Peter's cooking tonight! He's making that famous lasagna of his."
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I sheepishly rub the back of my neck. "Yeah, Sir. Harry wanted me to make my aunt's recipe. It's kind of a hit in our neighborhood."
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Mr. Osborn gives me an approving nod, but before he can respond, his phone buzzes.
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"Excuse me for a moment," he says, stepping past us. As he walks away, Harry watches him with that same look—half hope, half disappointment. The kind of look you only have when you want your dad to just be there. And with Norman? That's not exactly a given.
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"L-Let's get inside," Harry says, trying to shake off the mood. As we step into the mansion, I'm expecting Felicia to be wowed by the place. It's not every day you walk into a house the size of a museum, but she barely reacts, just that same smirk on her lips.
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"This is it," Harry says, gesturing around. "Looks smaller on the inside, right?"
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Felicia glances around, unimpressed. "Plenty big enough."
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The door behind us clicks open, and Mr. Osborn walks back in, still on his phone. "Son, something's come up. I can't stay for dinner after all." He looks at Harry, then at me and Felicia. "Enjoy yourselves. Anything you need, Harry will take care of it. That goes for both of you."
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"Thank you, Sir," I say.
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"Have a good night," Felicia adds, ever polite.
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"Y-Yeah. See you later, Dad," Harry mutters, his voice tight.
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With a nod, Norman's out the door just as fast as he came in. Harry watches him go, his face falling for just a second before he turns back to us, forcing a smile. "Okay! We've got the house to ourselves. Isn't that great?"
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I know that look. He's trying to sell it, trying to convince himself more than us. I've known Harry since we were five—I can always tell when something's eating at him.
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"Pete, why don't we get started on dinner?" Harry asks, turning to me with that hopeful smile.
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"Sure—" My phone buzzes in my pocket. I glance at the screen—a police report. The Lizard. He's been spotted. Apparently, they've cornered him at an abandoned zoo.
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No. No, this doesn't feel right. Connors isn't the mindless monster they think he is. If they've found him, it's because he wanted them to.
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"Harry, something's come up. I've gotta—"
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Harry cuts me off, frustration flashing in his eyes. "No way, man! You're always leaving last minute. Can't you just stick around this one time? My dad's already gone. You can't leave too."
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The guilt hits me hard. This is the part of the job no one warns you about—choosing between your life and the life. The one with masks, bad guys and broken ribs. I hate this.
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I look at him, at Felicia, and sigh. "I'm... sorry. I'll make it up to you."
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"Pete!" Harry's voice cracks with disappointment as I bolt out the door, but I'm already gone.
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Sometimes, you can't win them all.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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There's something about swinging two hundred feet above New York that clears your head. Maybe it's the streets below, the rush of air, or the distant roar of planes overhead. It's a strange kind of calm, like this is where I'm supposed to be. Destiny, or something. Though, really—who believes in destiny anymore?
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Not that it matters. Right now, I'm heading for the Seneca Park Zoo. Or, more specifically, where the Lizard—Dr. Curt Connors—is currently hiding.
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Dr. Connors was a professor at the university I interned at, and honestly, he was one of the nicest people I'd ever met. He and his wife were great. They even had a daughter around my age. She wasn't too interested in their work, though.
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I remember him showing me all sorts of experiments. It always seemed so controlled, like they knew exactly what they were doing. The big project was how to use animal DNA to improve human life—genetic enhancement, limb regeneration. Stuff that, at the time, I found pretty fascinating.
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Then...one day, he'd lost his arm in an accident, which cost him not only his job at Oscorp but his family. His daughter died in that explosion, and his wife couldn't forgive him. I'm not sure he ever forgave himself.
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Then Connors took it a step further. He showed me the serum laced with lizard DNA that he believed could regrow lost limbs.
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He kept pushing forward, kept experimenting, until... well, you know how this ends.
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I reach the abandoned zoo, the whole place empty and silent. Good—at least there won't be any civilians caught in the crossfire.
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Except for me.
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I swing through the grounds, searching for any sign of Connors or the cops. The place is eerie, deserted, until I spot something—an old lion's den, with its metal bars ripped wide open like something huge tore its way out. Or in.
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I land on top of the den and spot a tunnel inside. "Well, that doesn't look menacing at all," I mutter to myself, peering into the darkness. But this has to be where Connors went. And, hopefully, where the cops are.
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I drop into the tunnel, making my way down its twisting path. The air reeks of damp and decay, and soon enough, I see a faint light ahead. As I step into the dim glow, my stomach turns.
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Four police officers—what's left of them—are on the ground. Their bodies are being picked apart by a swarm of small lizards, gnawing and crawling over the corpses.
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"B-Back off!" I shout, stomping around in the muck, scattering the lizards. "Get away from them!"
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The lizards slither off, leaving the bodies behind. My stomach flips as I kneel beside them, their faces barely recognizable. I lift my mask and vomit, the sight too much to bear. It's moments like this that make being Spider-Man hard to swallow. No matter how hard I try, I can't save everyone.
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"I should've been here sooner," I whisper, closing the eyes of one of the officers—the ones who still have eyes, anyway.
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I grab one of the flashlights still flickering and push forward, deeper into the tunnel. Every scratch on the walls, every chunk of meat and bone scattered along the floor makes my pulse quicken. I want to turn back, to run to Harry's place and pretend this never happened.
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But if I do that, more people are going to die. Maybe even worse than that.
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Finally, I reach an old, makeshift lab, buried in the depths of the zoo. There's a desk, covered in papers, vials, and random, scattered equipment. The air is thick with the smell of rot. I pick up one of the papers—it's a formula, probably Connors' attempt to perfect his transformation. But mixed in with the notes are photos. Graphic photos—internal organs, dissected bodies.
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My stomach lurches again. This is a menu, not a science experiment.
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Before I can react, something slimy and cold wraps around my neck. I instinctively reach up, grabbing it, but the thing tightens, choking me. I yank hard, using all my strength to slam it into the ground. The grip loosens, and as the rest of the creature crashes down, I see him.
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The Lizard.
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He towers above me, blood dripping from his sharp teeth, eyes glowing yellow in the darkness. His lab coat is torn, his body monstrous and deformed.
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"Not... yet," he growls. "Not... done yet."
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"Dr. Connors?" I gasp, still catching my breath. "Do you realize how many people you've killed? You have to stop! Think about Vanessa—what would she—"
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He roars and charges, slamming me into the wall. His claws rake across my chest, slicing through my suit, and I feel the hot sting of blood seeping from the wound. "Why'd you have...to go and do that?" I mutter through gritted teeth.
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He swings again, but I manage to shoot a web into his eyes, blinding him. I slide between his legs, webbing his back and yanking him hard to the ground. But he's back on his feet in a flash, hissing and charging again.
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I leap up, kicking him in the face, using the momentum to launch myself off. Before he can recover, I slam into his chest with a double kick. An uppercut follows, knocking out a few of his fangs. "I'm not letting you hurt anyone else!" I shout, panting.
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He stumbles back, leaning against the wall. "How... about... you?" he growls.
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"Uh...?"
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Before I can dodge, he grabs my leg and sinks his teeth in. I scream, the pain blinding, but I kick him in the jaw with my other foot, breaking his grip. He tackles me, smashing me through a concrete wall into another section of the tunnel. His tail wraps around my neck, choking me again as he pummels my chest, each punch drawing more blood.
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"Dr... Connors..." I wheeze, trying to pry his tail off. "You... have to stop..."
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Suddenly, he hesitates. His grip loosens, and his yellow eyes focus on me—really focus on me.
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Then he peels my mask back, revealing my face.
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"Pe...ter?" His voice shakes. "Pet...er..."
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He drops me, backing away, clutching his head in confusion. "Can't... kill... should... kill..." He looks at me, then lets out a guttural roar and bolts, crashing through the tunnel wall and disappearing into the darkness.
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I slump to the ground, coughing, bleeding, barely hanging on. "Yeah..." I croak. "You better run..."
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