Only One Left [COMPLETED]

Chapter 10: Unexpected Guests

Previously on Only One Left: "H-how did-" he wheezed, but was unable to finish the sentence.

"Hello Spider-Man," Norman Osborn grinned. "We meet at last,"

"Hello Spider-Man," Norman Osborn grinned. "We meet at last,"

For one long minute, all Peter could do was stare. His vision was still slightly impaired with the cracking dent in his mask lenses, so maybe he was seeing things. Did Otto get a make-over within the hours Peter's been away? Or did Harry slip something into one of the hotdogs they got from a vendor on the street? Because, if he was seeing right, then Norman Osborn was sitting in the middle of the Big Room, in Peter's chair, looking so out of place with his spiffy suit and gelled hair that Peter's first thought was that it couldn't possibly be true. Norman never came down to the Basement with all his high-tech, leather padded comfort at the top to keep him company. Which couldn't - shouldn't - be possible, at all, in the slightest because this was his literal worst nightmare, and Otto continuously told him as a kid that nightmares were just like dreams and only occurred through REM sleep when the brain was most active. They couldn't manifest into a living thing.

Yet, there he sat, legs crossed casually, with a bit of the chair fluff sticking to a pant-leg where the cushion had been torn. The already chilled environment seemed to drop lower, to the point that those cold blue eyes seemed almost warm and froze the mingled jumble of letters clogging Peter's throat. Before his brain could come up with a game plan that didn't involve him screaming "PANIC" and busting his body shape into a wall, his spider-sense ripped across his skull and down his spine, and he barely had time to skitter back as 3 figures emerged from the shadows around the room. Thundra's monstrous boots thumped heavily onto the concrete, spreading small cracks under her foot. Her grin was mad and eager, as she lazily swung her giant spiked ball from its chain as if it was as light as a bouncy ball. Claw stepped out behind Peter, making him scramble away, arms outstretched and already aimed for Peter's chest. Wizard was the last, almost melting out of the shadows as he hovered a few feet off the ground to the right of Norman, arms crossed, and already looking incredibly pleased with himself. Any damage to their costumes from their fight the other day was gone, but the vengeful gleam had the teen believing that they hadn't forgiven him just yet.

Peter, on the other hand, felt like he might throw back up that hotdog. He's never done well with direct confrontation, from SHIELD, villains, or rogue heroes, it gave him anxiety. And right about now, he was feeling very anxious, and suddenly he was extremely thankful for his mask, despite the rest of his costume being replaced by jeans and a t-shirt. He didn't like being boxed in, especially by this lot. How did the Frightful Four escape SHIELD anyway? He and those other heroes beat them, which meant they should definitely be sitting in a cell right about now. Didn't Fury know they're still out on the streets? Was it not his job to lock them away? Well, good job then. Thanks a lot.

Norman leaned forward in his chair, chin coming down to rest pleasantly on his hands. His head cocked to the side, just a small tilt that hinted a thought. "I was under the impression that you talked a lot," he mused, and Peter realized he'd been staring silently for minutes now, "or, at least that's what the media says. My employee's here have reported you're knack for talking as well, but maybe I've been misinformed."

Peter swallowed so hard, he was sure they heard it. Every scenario, every day-dream of finally knocking the haughty look from Norman's face became a naive childs' balloon popped by a bully, that now lay deflated on the ground as a hopeless rubbery scrap. To Peter, it was like finally seeing the monster after countless nights of strange noises under the bed and feeling eyes on you in the dark. He felt paralyzed.

Norman's eyes never left him but roamed over his body, and Peter was under the impression that he was a prized animal the world-renowned hunter finally snagged, and stepped back. Klaw shifted with him and moved forward, prompting Peter to move closer to the monster by firing up his weaponized gauntlets. Peter's fingers twitched, rubbing against his palm, while his eyes snapped across the room.