Spider-Man: Sandstorm

Chapter 3: Old Habits pt. 1

In the darkest part of Manhattan there sits an apartment building next to the subway. As the subway passes, the apartment complex shakes and dust falls from the ceiling of each room. In one of these apartments sits a man in front of his blocky TV. He wears a striped shirt which has two shades of green. He wears brown pants and black boots. He stares at the static-filled TV, not watching it, but looking at it, emotionless.
        He looks down at his hands and raises one. He holds out his index finger and his expression turns from emotionless, to focus. Without much effort his finger changes from its normal texture to sand. He stares at it, and his face turns to anger. Rage. A second later his entire hand is sand, and it grows larger than any hand can be. It contorts into the shape of a hammer and he smashes through the coffee table in front of him.
       The subway passes again.
       The apartment shakes and more dust falls from the cracking ceiling onto the floor. The TVs signal changes and goes from static to a news broadcast.
        "After Wilson Fisk's arrest earlier this morning, more and more pieces of information about his secret empire are starting to come to light, tune in to hear more on the situation as it unfolds."
        The man looks at the TV in shock, his eyes shift all over the room in a frenzy. He quickly gets up and walks to his window. He looks down to the street and sees a black truck park across the street from his building.
         He backs up and quickly walks to a room. He walks next to the stained mattress on the broken bed frame in the room and opens a drawer on the bedside table. He grabs a locket necklace and puts it in his pocket. He also scurries through and grabs a small amount of money in the drawer.
        He quickly shuts it and walks to his door. He exits the apartment quietly and shuts the door. When he turns around to face the stairs a group of men stand before him, all dressed in black with shaved heads.
         "Flint Marko," one of the men says, holding a bat in his hand, "didn't think you'd be able to hide for long did you?"
        "Fisk is gone," Flint responds, "there's no reason for any of this."
         "To the contrary, we're still on his payroll. You left the business without notice or a trace, and you know Kingpin don't like loose ends."
         Marko clenches his fist and stands his ground. The Fisk goon sighs, "Fine, be that way." He approaches Marko and swings his bat. Flint takes the hit, with part of his face turning to sand and dispersing into the air, before joining his body once again.
         The Fisk goon stares at Marko, looking horrified and shocked. He swings at him again and Marko enlarges his hand and catches the bat, then with the other he contorts it to a similar shape of a bat and hits the goon in the rib.
        The goon's side cracks and he falls to the floor yelling in agony. Flint looks at all the goons that were standing behind him and their shocked expression turns into focus as they raise their guns and begin firing at Marko.
         He grunts in annoyance and walks forward. He turns one hand into a huge fist and the other into a mace as large as a basketball. He smashes one goon, then begins his descent down the stairs with the others moving down but still firing at him.
         He continues to walk down and pound the goons into the wall. He approaches one who's reloading and grabs him, then throws him off the railing where he falls two stories. With each hit everyone writhes in agony.
         He reaches the lobby of the building, which is a small pizza shop. He slowly walks to the exit door, but is stopped when he feels a goon shove a knife into his back. Marko elbows the person behind him, pushing them to the floor. He pulls the knife out of his back and tosses it away.
         He slowly walks up to the goon on the floor. He turns his hand into a hammer and raises it over his head. "Your boss did this to me," he says, getting ready to strike, "and himself." He brings down the hammer into the goons chest, where a loud crack echoes through the shop.
         Flint looks through the exit door at the trucks parked across the street. Most are empty, but one, which has two goons inside of it, on watch for cops. Marko thinks to himself for a moment and takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes and his legs turn completely to sand, and splash on the floor, his torso follows suit, then his head.
           He slides under the door and goes across the street. He uses the indents of the tires to get up to the bed of the truck, then into the backseat through the back window of the truck. He spreads out through the seat quickly so as to not be loud or noticeable.
         "Yea he got away too." One of the goons says, playing with a butterfly knife.
         "Shocker?" The other guard asks.
         "Uh huh."
          "Shit. Are we gonna have to deal with that too?"
         "Probably not, Herman's too much of a wuss to talk to anyone. Last I heard he was laying low in the Bar With No Name."
         "Ugh I hate that place, always full of those weirdo super powered people, and not even the cool ones."
         "There's cool ones?"
         "'Course there's cool ones, Electro, Rhino-"
         "Big Wheel?"
        The goons laugh hysterically. One pulls out their phone and scrolls through their messages. Suddenly they both feel the weight of the truck shift.
        "Quit movin' fatass." The one with the butterfly knife says to the other.
        "Quit messin' around you ain't even funny." He responds.
        The one with the butterfly knife looks back at him with a confused expression and turns on his phone flashlight. He then moves it to the backseat and reveals Flint Marko, back in his normal form. The goon instinctively jabs him with the knife and Marko takes it in the chest.
       The other goon sees this and quickly tries to leave the truck. Before he can get out Marko grabs his head, as well as the other goons head and slams them together.
       He picks up the butterfly knife goon's phone and dials 911.
       "911, what's your emergency?" The operator asks.
        "Uh," Marko says, looking at his apartment building, "there's been an assault at Alfredo's Pizza, on the corner of Gay Street and Waverly Place. Lots of men with guns causing a disturbance."
       "Okay, units are on their way sir, and your name is-?"
       Flint hangs up and gets out of the car. "Bar With No Name huh?" He says to himself, "Might be a good idea to give my old partner a visit." Marko's body slowly dissipates into the familiar shape of small rocks and the wind takes him to the Bar With No Name.