My Alter Ego, The Amazing Spider-Man [one-shot]

A/N: Was bored so thought I'd write about my second favorite superhero (Batman coming in first) Spider-Man. Haven't edited yet (major headache right now) but will ASAP. Enjoy ;)

My Alter Ego, The Amazing Spider-Man

I threw out my hand into the sky and pushed down on the tiny lever underneath my red and blue colored glove, using my middle and ring finger, creating my signature hand-pose. A clear string sprung out of my hand and flew across the sky, connected to the side of a building, forming a perfect rope for me to swing through the city from. I swung as far as the rope I created would take me; I nearly reached the end, and jumped releasing my vine-like rope.

“Look! It’s Spider-Man!” A simple and ordinary girl shouted at me form below, while she walked and traveled the streets of my humble abode, New York City. It was quite unusual to be noticed, usually pretty girls and innocent civilians ran from me, (especially after the sad death of Captain George Stacey, – caused by my once good friend, Doctor Curt Connors, by mutating himself into a giant Lizard because he wanted to regrow his missing arm – which I was wrongly blamed for according to the famous writers of the Daily Bugle – and yours truly, J. Jonah Jameson – and their competition, The New York Times) but others (some I might add) knew I was doing the right thing, things the police wasn’t capable of. Most the time I was ignored, which was okay, but to the police I was the biggest outlaw in the city.

One day there was this big bank robbery, those losers acted like they had a master plan going on, as if they were going to win some kind of special ribbon for such “brilliance,” well, I had to hand it to ‘em; they did have a nice “quick in-out, kill all security cams, shoot anybody that moves ” deal, but I had seen better (actually much better) in my short time being your friendly-neighborhood-superhero.

At first I didn’t even think they knew who I was, even though I had already locked up a few of their buddies just a couple weeks ago.

“Who’s this freak-show?” One of them barked, while I was descending casually upside-down from one of my infamous ropes, which I named “webs.”

“Aw come on, guys! Really? The red and blue tights don’t ring a few bells?” I asked them when I nicely landed onto the floor at their level. They stared awkwardly at me, and it was getting on my nerves, so I decided to put forth a pointless joke.

They didn’t seem to like it (note to self, never make jokes about their mothers, got it).

I heard the guns click and immediately they began shooting at me (hey, I was an easy target and certainly was easy to spot). Obviously, I dodged every bullet till they were out of ammo, and trust me, these guys were the type to use the very last drop if it meant pinning one in your forehead or knee (these guys loved aiming for the knees).

After cracking a few more jokes (about how they could hold such a bad grudge and making fun of their pathetic aim) I webbed ‘em up, smashed their skulls, and broke a few legs.

“Bye ladies!” I hollered when the police arrived, they must have gotten word that the masked vigilante, known as The Amazing Spider-Man, was out helping a group of sassy robbers hit a bank; heck, I wouldn’t even know where to start if I were going to rob a bank, even with my genius intellect and superhuman powers.

After I'd finished those events, I'd swing my way to Midtown High, my school. I stuffed my suit in my backpack since I didn’t have time to put it on under my school clothes (besides, sometimes it showed). I passed my once girlfriend, Gwen Stacey, in the hallway, and felt the sudden urge to ask her out; but those “urges” usually died immediately because of the promise I made to her father, Captain George Stacey (and so forth my responsibility for day-saving mixed with my Peter Parker life put into two words, never easy). He made me promise to break up with her right before he died, only for her safety, because he knew how serious she was about me.

After I broke up with her, we quit talking, period. But her safety was highly important to me (and so was it to her father, obviously) and being Spider-Man put her in danger.

So I learnt to get over it.

One day a crazy guy going by the name, "Kraven" put a price on my head. He was a big time gang leader, usually he worked alone, but he wanted me dead so he formed a gang. What I made of him, he wanted whatever he was a "fan" of to be his prized trophy. Plus we were enemies, and I had ticked him off a few times by stopping him from killing an innocent person, his intentions were (as he claims) to use the guy as another one of his "trophies."

And when I finally found his hideout, I was determined to lock him away for good. Not that it mattered, I would still be hated by the police.

Being Spider-Man was never, and I knew it would never be, in one word, easy.

But I had to do it, I was given the powers for a reason.

So I swung on over to Kraven's dark and gloomy hideout. There I found him, in his shaggy black beard, homemade lion-fur vest, and yellow animal print tights; stabbing what looked like a cheetah from the local zoo.

"I hope you know that's illegal," I spoke suddenly, right after I had seen enough of him torturing the poor animal. He popped his head up, glared at me as if I had interrupted something important, and released his furry victim.

"Ah, Spider-Man!" He exclaimed in his odd accent, standing up right giving me his full attention. "I am pleased that you have come," He paused, using his index and thumb to wipe away the blood from his hunting knife. "Now I can add to my collection, the best of them all-- the head of the one and only, Spider-Man!"

What was so attractive about my head?

Ah, Kraven The Hunter, you are one of a kind.

"Great! And I'll add you to blackgate's "unique and wild" collection!"

Remember, kids, jokes always throw your enemy off balance, always.

So then he repaid me with a "Less talk more fight" expression and bolted toward me with his hunting knife. His knife slinging was useless, he wasn't horrible, but my spider-senses was far faster than his "hunting" senses. Soon, I had gotten several blows to the face, his face if you're wondering, and he was starting to get a nose bleed. I webbed his face up that he couldn't see, then, I attached a web to his feet, jumped high up and over a support beam bringing the web with me, and within seconds I made Karven a hopeless, hanging, vulnerable, child.

"Get me down! I demand that you release me at once!" He shouted at me through the webs I placed over his mouth, sounding muffled to my ears.

"Sorry, Kraven, I don't give souvenirs," I told him when I started hearing police sirens. I escaped through the sky light, since the police had both exits covered. I swung my way through the city victoriously, even though my life as Peter Parker was far from what you called "victorious," but I knew I'd always have my alter ego,

The Amazing Spider-Man.