Biography | Quentin Beck

Thursday, March 19th, 2025

Quentin didn't feel proud of what he had done. He stared at the limp kid tied to a chair. He felt like a monster as he slowly began to connect another dose to his IV. Dammit.

He just had to remember what this was for. It wasn't revenge. It wasn't to hurt the kid. It wasn't even to hurt his dead ex friend. It was to get arrested. 

It was such a sloppy abduction too. So many people saw it happen. Out in public with a smoke bomb of sleeping gas he made. Pathetic. What mattered most was that it worked. He had Spider-Man in his clutches. New York's finest hero as of right now. 

He was up all night working. Chemistry was no easy task, even if it looked it. Maybe it took so long because he kept blacking out. He was on the verge of doing so again, even. He had to fight it though. He couldn't leave with such a difficult situation right now.

He watched carefully, waiting for the right amount to enter the boy's body. God. He couldn't even look at the Avenger. Once the line filled up, he carefully unplugged the vial from the equipment. If all was done right, Spider-Man would be fine.

He'd just have a small amount of amnesia. Maybe forget who he was for a little bit but nothing permanent. Maybe a few body aches from the drugs weakening his abilities but again, nothing serious. At least, he hoped not. 

He beat himself up over how unprofessionally he kidnapped the kid. He had fought Spider-Man before. He knew how to clog his Spider Sense, it was actually quite easy. A simple chemical. He had used the singular Holocube that he took with him. He forgot he had one in his pocket from The Sinister Six lair.

It worked like a charm. Warping a small area of reality, enough for him to fill the area with the chemical to clog his alarm. Next was the sleeping gas bomb. It was probably on the news. That's how sloppy it was. 

But that was probably a good thing. If it was known to the public that Mysterio had Spider-Man... then hopefully what he was so hopeful for would happen. Quentin was a professional manipulator. Certified gaslighter, but he was serious. He didn't want to hurt the kid.

He was so serious in fact that he slid the real pair of E.D.I.T.H. glasses in the superhero's pocket. A simple sorry. He wouldn't be forgiven, but he wanted him to know it was nothing personal. It was desperation. 

Panic was understandably the kid's first reaction to being tied down with no memory of how he got there. The tingling in his neck of his Spider Sense, desperately trying to warn him of who stood in front of him. But the brain wasn't able to recognize the man. Quentin wanted to relax him, tell him everything would be fine... but, when he did come to his senses, he needed him to remember him being cruel.

He lied through his teeth. Telling the kid he was finally going to get revenge for London. How he thought he'd get away with making such a fool out of him. Poor Spider-Man was scared and confused, having no memory of such events. But Beck continued. He really didn't want to, but he had to give a convincing act.

He hadn't tied the knots tight. In fact, he tied them quite loosely so that the kid would be able to wiggle free if he were to black out. He was glad he did when his vision cut in and out between darkness and the terrified tears of the kid stuck in front of him.

The blurring got worse as he clenched the table he was leaning against to try and stop himself from overall collapsing. He hadn't eaten today. He was too busy. His stomach was letting him know that. A small smile showed up on his face when he watched the kid able to wiggle free.

Just like he had hoped.

His ears rang as the darkness came closer and closer. He couldn't make out the kid's echoing, muffled words, but it sounded as if he had called someone. Good... let them come. Mission accomplish as the once powerful Mysterio collapsed to the ground.