Peter Parker sat across from Harry Osborn and Gwen Stacy, his mouth hanging open in shock. When Gwen had invited Peter out for dinner tonight, he had wrongly assumed she was asking him out on a date. Now he discovered that she was just asking him to join her and her boyfriend for a meal.

Harry Osborn. President of ESU’s chapter of Alpha Sigma Lambda. All this time, Peter thought he was gay and coming onto him—now he discovered Harry was really just trying to be friendly. To make matters more complicated, Harry was the son of Peter’s boss, Norman Osborn. Although Harry was not aware of that.

“Pete?” asked Harry. “You feeling okay? You look a little… pale.”

Peter shook his head, trying to get his bearings. “Yeah… yeah I’m fine,” he said. He took a sip from his water and focused his eyes on the menu.

“Glad we were finally able to get you to come out with us,” said Harry. He looked at Gwen. “Every time I try to get this kid out of his room, it’s like pulling teeth.”

“Really? Every time I stop by he’s never there,” said Gwen. She looked to Peter. “Where are you off to all the time?”

“Oh… y’know, just… around,” said Peter. He gulped down more of his water, draining the glass until the ice clinked together. It wasn’t a complete lie, although he left out the part where he was dressed in blue and red tights, swinging from rooftops as Spider-Man. “I didn’t know you two were together.”

Harry smiled. “You’re wondering why someone like her would date a guy like me, aren’t you?”

Peter shrugged. He didn’t want to say it, but that’s actually exactly what he was wondering.

“We had an English class together freshman year, and Harry was horrible at writing,” said Gwen. “So I helped him out and we became friends. But we didn’t actually start dating until a few months ago.”

Peter felt a vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and saw that it was a restricted number. Had to be Osborn, telling him about something that was going down. He opened up the phone and put it to his ear. “Hello?”

“We’ve got a situation. You need to get moving.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there,” said Peter, but Norman Osborn had already hung up after giving that message. Peter stood from the table and Gwen and Harry watched him with surprise.

“You’re leaving?” asked Gwen.

“Yeah, sorry but something’s come up,” said Peter.

“What was it, everything okay?” asked Harry.

“Yeah it’s just… that was one of my… study partners. I… I forgot we were supposed to have a study session tonight,” said Peter.

“Lame,” said Harry. “You can’t blow it off? We were gonna go to a club after this.”

“…but I’m underage,” said Peter.

Harry just smiled. “That’s not a problem, I can get you in.”

“I’d… I’d love to, but I really can’t blow these guys off,” said Peter. “This was nice though, sorry I couldn’t stay. You guys have fun.”

“How are you going to get back to campus?” asked Gwen.

“I’ll get a cab, it’s fine,” said Peter. He walked from the table and as soon as he was out the front door, he walked around the block into an alley. As soon as he did, he started to strip his clothes off and beneath them was his Spider-Man costume. “Saved by the… vibrating ringtone,” he said.

He pulled his mask and gloves out of his jacket pocket and put them on, completing the ensemble. That’s when he looked down at his clothes and sighed. “Great, what am I gonna do with these?” Peter didn’t want to leave them here in the alley, along with his wallet and phone. Someone was bound to steal them. And he didn’t have time to go back to the dorms.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this…” he muttered to himself as he webbed up his clothes and shoes in a ball. He affixed it to his back and climbed up the wall of the alley. Once he was on the rooftop, he ran towards the edge and leapt from it, shooting out a webline and swinging from it across the city.

RESPONSIBILITY

Part II: Enter The Goblin

By Dino Pollard

Spider-Man swung through the city, towards the location Osborn was transmitting through the earpiece in his mask. As he grew closer, he knew he didn’t need Osborn’s indications. What he saw was impossible to miss.

He landed on a nearby building and watched what was happening from a distance and the criminal in question was easy to spot. He had a purple cloak covering his body and he was hovering on a glider of some sort. He hurled something from his hand, must have been a grenade because it caused the building he threw it at to explode in flames.

“Y’know, I understand that you’re trying to make more work for the fire department, but this really isn’t the way to pay tribute to our men in uniform,” said Spider-Man.

The arsonist’s glider spun around and Spider-Man was able to get a good look at the man—if that’s what he was. He was dressed in purple that matched his cloak and his skin was green with glowing eyes and horns protruding from his head.

“Holy shit…” muttered Spider-Man.

The creature hurled one of the grenades at Spider-Man and his spider sense allowed him to leap away moments before it struck the rooftop. Spider-Man could have sworn that it looked like… a pumpkin?

The Spider-Cams were floating around the area, transmitting the images from the scene to Oscorp via satellite. Spider-Man spoke into the transmitter, “what the hell am I dealing with?”

“Looks like it’s your first official showdown with a real supervillain,” came Osborn’s response.

“A supervillain? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Spider-Man turned to his opponent. “So… what do you call yourself? Bomber-Man? Glider-Man? Bad-Skin-Man? Purple Man?”

“The Goblin,” he replied in a throaty voice.

“Yeah well, hate to spoil this for you, but you shouldn’t be blowing stuff up, it’s just bad form,” said Spider-Man.

The Goblin withdrew several small orbs and hurled them at Spider-Man. The instant they left his hand, they exploded into razor-sharp boomerangs that resembled bat wings.

“This is like a Halloween nightmare!” said Spider-Man as he dodged around the razor-bats. One of them sliced into his arm and he grimaced in pain. Spider-Man leapt towards the Goblin and shot out a webline, snagging onto the Goblin’s glider.

The Goblin crouched on the glider and kicked it into high-gear, rocketing it further into the air several thousand feet. He twisted and turned on the glider, trying to shake the hero free but with no luck.

Spider-Man kept his grip on the webline and slowly started to pull himself up. He shot another webline at the glider and used it to swing forward. As soon as he was at the apex of his swing, he released the webline and the momentum sent him flying into the air. He shot out another line, snagging the Goblin’s arm. The Goblin gripped the line and pulled Spider-Man towards him, much to the web-swinger’s dismay.

The Goblin’s thick, clawed hand wrapped around Spider-Man’s throat and he smiled as he began to choke the life from the young superhero. He shifted direction on the glider and came barreling back down towards the city, throwing Spider-Man into the side of a building.

Spider-Man tried to take control of his descent but instead slammed into the side of a building, shoulder-first. He placed his hand on the wall and held himself there, hoping to catch his breath. Before he had a chance to, however, his spider sense blared. He leapt away as two pumpkin bombs struck the wall, but he was caught in the wave of the explosion and plummeted towards the ground.

“Don’t kill him, Van Adder. If you do, the show’s over and you don’t get paid.” Osborn’s voice was ringing inside the Goblin’s ear.

“Stay out of this,” he growled in response.

“What are you doing, you moron? You work for me and you’ll do as I s—!”

The Goblin pulled his earpiece out and crushed it in his palm. He flew back at Spider-Man, launching another volley of razor-bats. Still disoriented from the explosion, Spider-Man wasn’t as capable of dodging them as before and although he moved enough to prevent them from causing too much damage, they sliced through several parts of his body, mostly his arms, one against his side and one on his leg.

“This guy’s too strong, Osborn. I don’t think I can hold out against him,” said Spider-Man.

“That doesn’t sound like a superhero to me,” said Osborn.

Spider-Man sighed and as the Goblin came barreling towards him, he stood his ground. At the last moment, he leapt at the Goblin and drove his feet into the villain’s head, bouncing up and before he landed, he turned and fired two weblines that snagged the Goblin’s cape. Spider-Man pulled hard on them the second his feet touched the ground and the Goblin went with the weblines, his glider continuing to fly forward without its pilot until it crashed into the roof of the building next to them.

Spider-Man was on his foe once again, his fists battering the Goblin’s face. He was able to keep the villain disoriented enough to continue his assault, adding in, “who are you? What are you doing here?”

The Goblin offered no reply. Instead he waited for his moment and then when it came, he grabbed one of Spider-Man’s fists and threw the hero down on the rooftop. He wrapped his hand around Spider-Man’s throat once more and raised his fist, prepared to give a final strike.

Then, without warning, the Goblin’s body began to convulse in pain. He released Spider-Man and gripped his head with both hands. The pain continued however. He ran towards the other rooftop and cleared the distance easily with one leap. The Goblin hopped on the glider and kicked it into gear, flying off into the night.

“This isn’t over, Spider-Man!” he shouted as he flew off.

Spider-Man took a moment to catch his breath and he watched as the Goblin retreated into the night sky. “Was it something I said?” he asked.

Oscorp

The next day, Norman Osborn sat in his office with Mendel Stromm, going over the footage from Spider-Man’s encounter with the Goblin the night before. Once the Goblin retreated into the night, Osborn turned off the monitor.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I told you the serum wasn’t perfected,” said Stromm. “We didn’t have time to properly test it out and there were bound to be some side-effects.”

“He disobeyed my orders, tried to kill my star,” said Osborn. “We had a deal.”

“Deal or no, the serum seems to have adverse effects on Van Adder’s mind,” said Stromm. “It might be unstable, there’s a chance that one of the side-effects of the serum is insanity.”

“Unacceptable,” said Osborn. “I want you to perfect the serum. And now, the Goblin is running around with my equipment.”

“It’s going to take time,” said Stromm. “These things always take time. If you weren’t in such a rush to get this show on the air and have Spider-Man go up against a supervillain, I would have had a chance to perfect it. Van Adder was just supposed to be a test subject, not the final result.”

“He’s been tested, now get to work,” said Osborn. “If not for the implant you put in his head, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him from killing Spider-Man.”

“Stop, you can’t go in there—!”

The voice came from outside Osborn’s office. He and Stromm turned just in time to see the door swing open and a young man with a goatee and glasses stepped in, Osborn’s secretary following him in.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Osborn, I tried to tell him you were in a meeting,” said the secretary.

“Can I help you?” asked Osborn, facing the newcomer.

“Ben Urich, Daily Bugle,” said the intruder. “I wanted to talk to you about Spider-Man.”

“Sir, would you like me to call security?” asked the secretary.

“That’s quite alright, Miss Grant. Dr. Stromm, we’ll continue this later,” said Osborn. Stromm nodded and left the office and Osborn’s secretary followed him, closing the door behind her. Osborn faced Urich and offered him a seat.

“Sorry for the intrusion, Mr. Osborn,” said Urich.

“You could have scheduled an appointment, I always have time for the press,” said Osborn. He sat behind his desk. “Tell me, how is Jonah doing these days?”

“Same as always,” said Urich.

“That’s what I expected,” said Osborn. “You wanted to discuss Spider-Man?”

“First question, who is he?”

“I can’t answer that,” said Osborn. “This brave man is a hero and as such, he has enemies. The mask and secret identity are necessary to prevent his loved ones from repercussions.”

“But you know who he is,” said Urich.

“I never said that,” said Osborn with a slight grin.

“So you don’t know who he is.”

“I never said that, either. I believe the correct response to this question is, ‘no comment.’”

Urich frowned. “Okay, so how did you find out about him?”

“No comment.”

“Where did he get his powers?”

“No comment.”

“Is there anything you can comment on?” asked Urich.

“I can tell you that he’s a hero and he’s doing a great service for this fine city,” said Osborn.

“And what about allegations that this is all a giant hoax?”

“Mr. Urich, I assure you that this is no hoax.”

“So you’ve got a guy with superpowers running across rooftops in his pajamas.”

“Actually, he swings from the rooftops more than he runs across them,” said Osborn. “From a web. Like a spider. Hence the name.”

“Right, right, spins a web any size, catches thieves just like flies,” said Urich. “I’ve heard the theme song.”

“Catchy, isn’t it?”

Urich rolled his eyes. “And what about the battle that occurred last night?”

“Our hero ran into a villain, simple as that,” said Osborn.

“Were you involved with the creation of this villain?” asked Urich.

“Absolutely not,” said Osborn.

“Let me get this straight, Mr. Osborn. You find this superhero and even though there has never been any supervillain activity in New York—or anywhere for that matter—he just coincidentally appears soon after Spider-Man makes his debut?”

“For every action there is an opposite and equal reaction.”

“Are you insinuating that Spider-Man’s very existence has convinced people to put on costumes of their own and terrorize this city?”

“Not at all,” said Osborn. “Interesting to hear that you’re such a skeptic, Mr. Urich. Aren’t you the reporter investigating an urban legend in Hell’s Kitchen? Some sort of guardian devil?”

“Let’s just focus on Spider-Man, okay?” asked Urich.

“You opened the door, Mr. Urich,” said Osborn. “And I don’t like your tone or your implications. I believe this interview is over and I would like you to leave the premises before I call security.”

Urich stood from his seat. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Osborn. The pleasure was all yours.”

“Indeed,” said Osborn.