Peter Parker: A Spider-Man Origin Story

The morning news painted a city still reeling from the chaos. Peter sat cross-legged on the couch, the dim glow of the television reflecting off his tense features. The anchor's voice was steady, but the weight of her words filled the room.

"Protests continue outside Oscorp Tower as citizens demand accountability for the recent Scorpion incident. Demonstrators clashed with Oscorp security last night, with tensions escalating after the capture of Mac Gargan, also known as Scorpion."

The screen cut to footage of protestors chanting outside Oscorp, signs waving in the air. A line of security guards, outfitted with shields and batons, held the crowd at bay. The chant "No more monsters!" rose above the chaos as a scuffle broke out, drawing jeers and shouts.

Peter's stomach churned as the footage shifted to a debate between pundits.

"Norman Osborn is directly responsible for this disaster," one argued. "Oscorp has been playing God with these experiments, and now the city is paying the price."

Another countered, "Let's not jump to conclusions. Scorpion was an anomaly, and Oscorp has pledged to cooperate with authorities. They're taking the necessary steps—"

The broadcast cut to Norman Osborn standing at a sleek podium in front of Oscorp Tower. Protesters chanted behind barricades as cameras flashed, capturing every flicker of his composed expression.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Norman began, his tone calm but firm. "I understand your concerns, and let me assure you, Oscorp is taking full responsibility for addressing this situation. Mac Gargan's transformation was an unsanctioned experiment conducted without oversight. We are working closely with law enforcement to ensure nothing like this happens again."

The crowd roared in response, and Norman's jaw tightened, though he masked his irritation with a faint smile.

"Oscorp's mission has always been innovation for the betterment of humanity," he continued, his voice steady. "And I'm pleased to announce a new initiative that will restore trust and provide solutions to the challenges we face as a city. Details will follow soon, but know this: Oscorp is committed to the safety and prosperity of New York."

As the broadcast ended, Peter muted the television, his jaw clenched. He could still hear the chants echoing in his head, and his thoughts drifted to Gargan, now trapped under Oscorp's control.

The faint hum of the television filled the room as Peter sat hunched on the couch, his hoodie pulled up and hands clasped tightly together. The news replayed clips of Scorpion's capture and the escalating protests outside Oscorp Tower. Peter's heart felt heavy, weighed down by the images of destruction, chaos, and the thought of Gargan being at Oscorp's mercy.

Aunt May stepped into the living room, drying her hands on a dish towel. She paused when she saw Peter's slumped figure, his eyes glued to the screen but distant. Setting the towel on the counter, she moved to sit beside him, her warm presence cutting through the cold tension in the room.

"You've been awfully quiet lately," May said gently, her voice tinged with concern. "It's not like you to brood so much."

Peter flinched slightly, startled by her voice. He glanced at her, forcing a weak smile. "Just… school stuff," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"School stuff, huh?" May's tone was light, but her eyes were searching. She reached out and placed a hand on his knee, her touch grounding. "You've had that same look since you were five and tried to hide a broken vase under the rug."

Peter looked away, guilt bubbling in his chest. He tugged his hoodie tighter around himself, trying to shield his bruised arms from her gaze. "It's nothing, Aunt May. I'm fine."

The sound of footsteps made them both turn as Uncle Ben entered the room, carrying a mug of coffee. He leaned against the doorway, his brow furrowed as he took in the scene. "Heard that one before," Ben said, his tone warm but laced with worry. "You're a terrible liar, Pete."

Peter shifted uncomfortably under their combined scrutiny. "I just tripped during gym class," he muttered, gesturing vaguely toward his bruised hands. "Nothing big."

Ben crossed his arms, his expression skeptical but patient. "Tripped, huh? Must've been some gym class."

Peter's jaw tightened, frustration and guilt battling inside him. He couldn't tell them the truth—not about Gargan, not about Oscorp, and definitely not about his powers. They wouldn't understand. They'd just worry.

"I'm fine," he said more firmly, standing up and heading for his room. "I just need to study."

May started to say something, but Ben held up a hand, stopping her. They watched silently as Peter disappeared down the hallway, the door to his room clicking shut a moment later.

May sighed, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "He's shutting us out, Ben. Something's really bothering him."

Ben nodded, his gaze lingering on the hallway. "He's carrying something heavy, that's for sure. But he's a good kid. He'll tell us when he's ready."

Inside his room, Peter leaned against the closed door, his heart pounding. He glanced at the small mirror on his dresser, catching his reflection. His face was pale, his eyes rimmed with exhaustion.

He pulled up his hoodie sleeve, revealing the faint bruises on his arm from the fight with Scorpion. His fingers brushed against the marks as a wave of frustration and self-doubt washed over him.

"This is all my fault," he whispered to himself, his voice cracking. "If I'd just stayed out of Oscorp, if I hadn't gotten these powers… maybe none of this would've happened."

Peter slumped into his desk chair, opening his laptop with trembling hands. The search bar stared back at him, an empty void waiting to be filled. He typed "Oscorp experiments" and hit enter. Articles flooded the screen—rumors of unethical projects, anonymous testimonies from former employees, and speculation about the company's hidden agenda.

One article caught his eye: "The Man Behind the Mask: Norman Osborn's Secret Research Projects." He clicked on it, his eyes scanning the text rapidly. The article detailed alleged experiments on humans, including mentions of experimental serums, gene splicing, and military applications.

Peter's chest tightened. The pieces were starting to come together, but the picture they formed was terrifying. Oscorp wasn't just a tech company—they were playing with forces they couldn't control. And now, they had Gargan.

His spider-sense buzzed faintly, as if echoing his unease. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. The weight of his choices pressed down on him, and for the first time, he wondered if staying hidden during Scorpion's capture had been a mistake.

"I'm not a hero," he muttered to himself. "I'm just a kid. But… someone has to do something."

The words hung in the air as he closed his laptop and turned off the light. For now, the only thing he could do was watch and wait. But deep down, he knew it wouldn't be long before the storm brewing inside Oscorp spilled out into the city once again.

In the heart of Oscorp Tower, the atmosphere was colder than the steel walls enclosing the high-security lab. Norman Osborn stood with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on Mac Gargan, who lay restrained on a reinforced table. His scaly skin twitched involuntarily, and his breathing was labored.

"Status?" Norman barked, not looking at the lead scientist.

The scientist adjusted his glasses nervously. "Gargan's mutations are… progressing. His body is rejecting standard stabilization methods. If this continues, his condition will deteriorate into something uncontrollable."

Norman's expression didn't falter. "Then don't let it continue. Fix him. Or extract what's useful."

The scientist hesitated. "With all due respect, sir, the data we've gathered from Gargan is unstable at best. Trying to replicate or weaponize it could—"

"Could," Norman interrupted, his voice sharp, "give us a breakthrough Oscorp has been chasing for years. Do what you're paid for, or I'll find someone who will."

The scientist nodded stiffly, retreating to his workstation.

Behind Norman, Alaric Kane leaned against the wall, his usual smirk firmly in place. "Always inspiring confidence, aren't you, Osborn?"

Norman ignored the jab. "What's the status on the task force?"

Kane straightened, his tone shifting to business. "Prototypes are being prepped. We'll have a team outfitted with the latest tech within a week."

"Make it sooner," Norman ordered. He approached the glass separating him from Gargan, watching as the man's mutations visibly worsened.

"Scorpion was a misstep," Norman said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "But he's a stepping stone to something greater."

Kane raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

Norman turned, his eyes cold and calculating. "A solution. One that puts Oscorp back on top."