𝐓𝐇𝐄 Daily Bugle, a very small internet show run by a very angry New Yorker named J. Jonah Jameson was reporting in the infamous serial murderer now going by the alias the Carnage Killer.
"Live from the Daily Bugle.Net, I've put my best reporters out to find out what I'm the world has been going on and you might wanna sit down for this one, folks." Jameson said. "We've got another serial killer in our midst going by the Carnage Killer."
The sixty seven year old would go on. "Captain George Stacy has taken charge with the investigation and is sailed to give a statement later this week."
Across the city and inside of Norman Osborn's personal lab, both he and his assistant were working on an idea that the assistant off handedly proposed, a flight suit.
"Do you mind taking it on your own, Toomes?" Norman asked, making the ageing man glance off to the schematics and blueprints scattered over tables along with parts.
"I suppose I could handle it, Sir." Adrian spoke as Norman murmured a short thank you before disappearing up into his office.
Adrian shrugged before inspecting the many intricate parts of his pipe dream that was slowly becoming a reality. His fingers ran over the metal that was shaped into feathers, a smile curling on his lips.
Norman sat in his leather chair inside of his office, a test tube filled with a green formula as he watched the liquid's swirl around the glass tube.
He then pulled out a piece of paper from his suit's pocket, showing a doctor's note that told Norman about a rare blood disease called Retroviral Hypodysplasia that is slowly killing him by the day.
He then looked to the formula, a formula that arrived from the east coast that he told Adrian to unload.
G0B1N.
The man put down the note, running his shaking hand through his hair, sighing to himself before he put the test tube to his lips and drank the highly experimental formula.
🕸 🕷 🕸
𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 Y/n had the day off and both Raymond and Lea have yet to see that their son was up and about, Y/n wanted to test his theory about being part spider some more.
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[TO BE REMADE] ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇʙ ᴏғ sᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-ᴍᴀɴ
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