Chapter 1: Crashing the Party
AN: This is my first Ultimate Spider-Man fic, so bear with me. I've always been a big fan and this is my way of testing the waters of the Spider-Man universe. This takes place just after the Superstar arc and before the Warriors arc. I hope you all like it. Enjoy!
Summary: As if Peter's life isn't hectic enough, his world is rocked when a mysterious warrior named Slayer shows up who is intent on training him to be a real fighter. But along with this man comes a host of other dark forces. Will he be strong enough to face them? And can he protect his loved ones from forces of darkness as a hero and a warrior?
'These mean character thoughts.'
Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-Man. Marvel does. But I do own Slayer. He's all mine.
Remember, this is my first shot at a fic like this, so it's important I get some feedback from you all! Send it to me via email or post it on the fanfiction website. I don't care which you do as long as you REVIEW! Thank you all and enjoy! Slickboy out.
I can't believe they make us do this. Typical Parker luck. I finally have a dry spell from all the super-villains and my school decides to throw a pep rally. What a waste. It's been a month since Gwen died and here I am sitting at a pep rally when pep is the last thing in my system. Maybe I need therapy. Thankfully, the best medicine any guy could ask for is sitting right next to me.
"Don't they ever get tired of these things?" said the beautiful Mary Jane Watson, who was sitting right next to Peter Parker in the Midtown High gym.
"Apparently not," remarked Peter, "I guess the principal went tone deaf and takes it out on the students."
"Sweet black revenge," laughed the redhead, "Coming in a form only a respected authority figure could dish out."
"As if I don't know that already," muttered Peter under his breath.
"Oh buck up, tiger," she said, giving him a playful shot in the arm, "Where's your pep?"
"Left it at home with my popularity and school spirit," laughed Peter.
"It's always in the last place you look!"
Mary has always had a way of cheering me up. Ever since Gwen died, she's been there for me. She was the first person I told about me being Spider-Man. And without her, I don't think I could have made it through some of the battles I've faced. And I'm not afraid to admit that I'm in love with her.
The gym rumbled with the loud chanting of many students, all of which was lead by a squad of cheerleaders and the stars of the Midtown football team. Every year it was the same. The team says they're going all the way, but they barely make it past the first round. Yet still, everybody insisted on raising school spirit.
For Peter Parker, school spirit was the last thing on his mind. After enduring the loss of Gwen Stacy and dealing with some odd encounters with Wolverine and Johnny Storm of the Fantastic Four, he was restless beyond measure. For a while, he even thought about giving up his job as Spider-Man. But in the end, his promise to his late Uncle Ben caught up with him.
It still tore at him, but Mary Jane wouldn't let him think about that now. Taking his hand in hers, she smiled warmly, slipping her arm around his waist and sharing a moment while the rest of the stands erupted into cheers.
"Look on the bright side. We got out of class," she commented.
"Do you always look on the bright side?" quipped Peter.
"If I don't, who will?"
"Not me, that's for sure."
"Oh come on. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, Peter?"
Peter gave her hand a slight squeeze and smiled warmly at his girlfriend.
"None that you can do in front of all these people," he answered.
"And I thought you were supposed to be daring."
"Only when I'm in character if you know what I mean."
"You're still my hero."
"That's all I need," said Peter, sitting back with his girlfriend and ignoring the mindless spirit of high school pep.
It was hard to believe what superpowers had done to his life. Once a lowly nerd, he was now a nerd who just happened to fight big bad guys in his spare time. That and a job at the bugle made it tough to find time for a girlfriend. Yet MJ stuck with him, even though the hard times. And it was moments like this, sitting together in brief moments of peace that made it all worth while.
I can't believe I'm doing this…again! Of all the luck in all the universe, why does mine have to be the worst? It's already killed me once. And it's screwing me over again, I swear! Hell, if this keeps up I'd prefer death over this shit.
"HA! HA! HA! YOU SUCK SLAYER!" yelled an imposing, hideous figure standing atop one of the many skyscrapers of New York in the hot afternoon sun, "YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO DO BETTER THAN THAT!"
Jack Robinson, the warrior known as Slayer, grit his teeth in a rage. This monster always had a way of making his life more miserable than it already was. His appearance was bad enough. He stood seven feet tall with black, rock-like skin. His body was shrouded in a beat-up black trench-coat with spiked pads on the shoulders and ragged blue jeans. His hands were more like claws, sharpened like knives with red hot edges that could slice through flesh. But the more horrific feature by far was his face. His eyes were a fiery red with only a thin layer of blackened skin around a skull that bore teeth like a shark.
Just looking at this beast was enough to get Jack angry. This creature was the epitome of what he fought against as a warrior for the forces of light. Wielding the power and skill of countless generations of warriors within his blood, his skill with a sword was unparalleled. Atop his hands, two enchanted symbols gave him strong mystical abilities. On his eye, an ancient symbol of the all-seeing eye gave him the ability to see things no mortal could ever see. It was a lot for a mortal man to wield, but it was the only power that could stop creatures like this.
"HOTSHOT!" yelled Slayer, "You ugly son of a demon, you're REALLY getting on my nerves!"
"You almost sound surprised! Hahahahahahaha!"
I've heard that laugh more times than I can count and it always sends shivers up my spine. I've faced some pretty tough baddies over the years, but few are as bad as this monster.
His name is Hotshot. He used to be human…a very bad human. He was a psychotic mass murderer who just happened to be lucky enough to be born with the mutant power to draw strength by draining minds. But he soon realized that when his victim was in pain, the intensity was increased tenfold so he became an all-out masochist. The hunger for energy quickly consumed him and inflicting it on innocent people really got him off.
He could have gone down as one of the most infamous killers of all time, but he got sloppy one night in New Orleans and was gunned down in a swamp. It could have ended there, but his body just HAD to rot in an area once used by a Voodoo witchdoctor to summon demons.
From there, his twisted soul drew the attention of an exiled demon named Desolate. This maniacal creature actually had the balls to attempt to overthrow the Prince of Darkness, but failed miserably and was banished. His punishment was to roam the world as a disembodied spirit. But like all crazed beings, the bastard found a loophole and completely merged with the body of a deranged madman.
He's not some possession an exorcist can get rid of. The immortal demon and the mortal man have merged so completely I don't even know if there's a way to classify the son-of-a-bitch. He breaks all the rules in the realm of mysticism. His soul is blackened by hatred and evil. He derives power from the suffering living things to cast magic no human could ever perform.
Worst of all, he can't be killed. Heaven doesn't want him. Hell won't take him. So I, Jack Robinson, am the unlucky bastard who has to deal with him.
Showing off his demon prowess, Hotshot leapt across the building tops, leaving Jack in the dust as his laughs echoed in all directions.
"You go any slower I'm gonna nod off, Jack!" taunted Hotshot, "Come on! I dare ya to catch me!"
"What I wouldn't give for a gallon of whisky right now," muttered Jack as took up the chase.
I know he's up to something. I can see it. My eye can see anything. Well, at least as much as my messed up human mind can process. I learned that Hotshot rose from the dead yet again and was snooping around the Big Apple. So I didn't waste time in finding him before he could inflict any more suffering. Needless to say, he's not going quietly.
Now here we are, leaping over rooftops in New York, caught in the same old game. There are so many things I'd rather be doing on a Friday afternoon, but here I am stuck chasing down a renegade demon. That pretty much sums my life story…one round of frustration after the other.
Under the blaring sun, Hotshot landed with a thud on each building, growling with demonic determination as Slayer tried to catch up. Hotshot was frustrated, no doubt. Hell, he hadn't even killed anybody yet. After his last defeat at Slayer's hands, he was in need of a good rejuvenation. He tried to unleash a load of special nerve gas in the subway system. The gas was designed to prolong suffering, which would give him a rush of new strength he could use to inflict further terror.
Slayer just happened to get lucky this time and sense him before he could make a move. But he wasn't going to let that stop him. Even if it meant changing his plans, he wasn't going to be bested again by this pestilent warrior.
"You're losing your touch, Jackie boy!" shot Hotshot as he landed atop an apartment building, "All that drinking must be catching up to you!"
"Even with a hangover I can beat your sorry ass back to Hell, Hotshot!" yelled Slayer, pointing his shining sword at the demonic madman in a threatening gesture.
"Ha! Like Hell could hold me! Face it, warrior! This pathetic world is stuck with me! And I'm gonna make sure I milk it for every last ounce of pain I can dish out!"
Taking back to the chase, Hotshot renewed his death defying leaps across the New York skyline. Only now, he was changing direction. The buildings around them were getting smaller, adding to the danger as Jack noticed more residential structures around him. And it didn't take long before he figured out what the madman had in mind.
"Oh shit," he muttered, trying hard to keep up, "Why do I get the feeling that this isn't going to end well? Oh right…because it never does!"
Hotshot's maniacal laughs echoed strongly as they passed over Hell's Kitchen and neared the crowded residential area of Queens. Stopping on a small building, Hotshot flashed the young warrior an ominous gaze, his demonic expression wrought with hatred and malice.
"You want me, Slayer? I'm right here!" he taunted, "But as long as we're in Queens, why don't we have a little fun?"
"Ah hell," muttered Slayer.
Pushing his warrior skills further, he drew close to the renegade demon. But as they leapt across the small housetops, Slayer's all seeing eye started to glow an ominous red. Hotshot may have been a monster, but he wasn't stupid. And as they neared a large school up ahead, his plans became clear.
Back in the gym, the mindless pep rally continued. The noise kept reverberating through the confined space, making ears ring and head throb. And for Peter and Mary Jane, enough was enough.
"Are you deaf yet?" yelled MJ over the noise.
"Not yet! But I'm getting there!" replied Peter.
"Want to ditch and do something better with our youth?"
"What? And miss all this spirit?"
Taking that as a yes, Peter and Mary Jane began making the difficult trek through the crowd. Everybody was still on their feet and cheering for reasons that still escaped them. But they could care less. Right now, a little peace and quiet was in order.
But while the young couple was trying to navigate the crowd, on the roof of the structure, the demon madman known as Hotshot landed with a hard thud. Sensing the noise within, a wide grin spread across his demonic face. With so many innocent youths and so little time the potential was endless, but not if Slayer had anything to say about it.
"A school, Hotshot? Is this how low you've sunk?" shot the mutant warrior as he landed on the roof as well.
"Low? Ha!" scoffed Hotshot, "I was planning on making this whole city suffer, but as long as I'm here I might as well have some fun!"
"Gotta go through me first, demon!" shot Slayer, taking a defensive stance with his sword.
"I was hoping you'd say that!"
Then, in an unexpected show of aggression, Hotshot leapt into the air and pounced upon the mutant warrior. His speed and agility was well beyond anything a human could muster. And even with warrior reflexes, Slayer knew there what was coming next.
"Oh fuck me."
Down in the gym, Peter and MJ were almost at the exit. Then suddenly, he felt a familiar feeling surge through his being.
'Spider sense? Here?!' he wondered.
"Peter?" said MJ, sensing his state, "Are you…"
With a deafening bang, a hole in the roof the size of a car formed, sending Slayer and Hotshot falling into the crowd, landing with a thud in the center of the gym.
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Liz, one of MJ's friends, "Mutants!"
"AHHHHHHHHHH!" screamed Flash Thompson, who was standing closest to Hotshot, "GET IT AWAY FROM ME!"
"Stop screaming like a little girl and let's get out of here!" yelled his friend, Kong as chaos erupted and everybody ran towards the exits.
"NOBODY'S GOING ANYWHERE!" yelled Hotshot, shooting up from the ground, his eyes glowing a fiery red, "YOU LITTLE PUKES ARE GONNA STICK AROUND FOR THE PARTY!"
With glowing hands and a fiery burst, Hotshot cast a demonic spell that incased the whole gym in a shell of fire. Just as people reached the door, the red hot flames shot up, blocking any hope of escape for the bewildered youths. The only one who wasn't running was Peter, who was frantically scanning the area for a way to get out or at least change into his Spider-Man costume. But whatever this thing was, they were at its mercy.
"Oh my God! Oh my God! We're trapped!" cried Liz, having what appeared to be a panic attack.
"Stay with us, Liz!" said MJ over the screams.
"Everybody remain calm!" yelled one of the teachers, "Remain calm and…"
"SHUT UP!" roared Hotshot, ascending into the air in a demonic show of power, "You pot smoking, dry humping, whiny little bitches are gonna keep yelling and screaming! And you're gonna have plenty of reasons when you feel the wrath of Hotshot!"
His demonic voice sent chills down the spines of all those who heard it. Some had fainted while others were cowering in fear at what they were seeing. This monster looked like something straight out of hell. His face resembled that of a skull, but his skin was blackened and his body was covered with armor that looked like it came right from a volcano.
All over his body, there were Hellish images and symbolism. But the most disturbing feature of all was his dark red eye. They gleamed with the fires of hell, burning with the hatred of a demon and a madman.
"Peter," whispered MJ, trying to hold onto Liz, "You have to…"
"I know," said Peter, not letting her finish, "But I can't! We're trapped!"
"Well, it was nice knowing you guys," said Kong, still trying to keep Flash upright.
"Speak for yourself," muttered Peter.
Hotshot reveled in the chaos his presence was causing. But from the hole he created in the impact, a dazed yet conscious Slayer arouse. His head was pounding, but he set that aside upon hearing the muffled screams of innocent kids. Looking around him, the situation did not look good.
"God damn it…" he groaned, "Does this guy try to find ways to piss me off?"
Drawing his glowing sword, Slayer took a warrior's stance, ready to fight to the death if necessary against his rival. But Hotshot was clearly not threatened.
"Oh I'm gonna enjoy this!" growled Hotshot, taking in all the potential pain he could feed off of.
"Bet you won't enjoy THIS!" grunted Slayer as he leapt up and slashed the demonic madman from behind.
"AHHHHHHHHH! YOU LITTLE…"
"Hey, watch it!" interrupted Slayer as he fell to the gym floor, "We are surrounded by kids you know."
Slayer's sudden move drew the attention of the panicked crowd. Some were still trying to get out, but now there was another draw as they watched a mysterious man dressed in strange samurai-like armor do battle with this demonic figure.
He was almost as imposing as Hotshot. He had a strong, well built frame. His blonde hair was messy and untamed. And in his hand was a shining sword, gleaming with the light of purity. And burning in his eyes was the determination of a true warrior.
"Friend of yours?" commented MJ.
"Not to my knowledge," said Peter, mesmerized by the sight.
Upon recovering from the blow, Hotshot's focus was entirely on Slayer. His arch nemesis was the only thing standing in his way from a feeding frenzy of pain and the environmental factor on his side, he grinned menacingly as he ripped a sword of volcanic magma from his chest.
"I knew you were a sick bastard, Hotshot," taunted Slayer, "But to attack a freakin' school in Queens?! During a pep rally?!"
"I wouldn't be talking if I were you, warrior!" shot Hotshot with an annoyed tone, "I don't think you want the death of these kiddies on your mind!"
"What? Just so they can go back to class and sit through lecture after lecture of how they're going to fail in life? Oh yeah, I'm doing them a BIG favor!" said Slayer, his words dripping with sarcasm.
Irked by his comments, the demon madman's temper was sent over the edge and he lunged forth at the young warrior.
"Errrrrahhhhhhhhhhhh!" yelled Hotshot.
In a clash of metal and fire, their swords collided. And with speed all but inhuman, the two adversaries were locked in a bitter fight. Hotshot tried to end it quickly, lunging forth in a stabbing motion. But Slayer saw it coming and countered with a horizontal slash. Hotshot managed to duck, but made himself vulnerable to more and went on the defensive.
This intense show of warrior skill captivated the audience, even if they were trapped in a shell of fire. The speed, skill, and power were nothing short of mesmerizing. Even Peter was impressed.
"Looks like you got competition, tiger," said MJ, not taking her eyes off the fight.
"I don't know, Mary," said Peter, backing away from the fight slightly, "I've got a bad feeling about this."
Slayer kept pushing Hotshot back with his assault. The demon madman tried to counter, but he had used too much power to make the fire shell to counter. Soon, he was backed up to the basketball hoop, stalling as their swords collided and their eyes locked.
"Errrrrrrrr! You're testing my patience, Slayer!" growled Hotshot.
"I have that effect on people," grinned the mutant warrior.
Looking for a way out, a demonic grin formed on his face as he saw a way out. Turning over towards Peter and MJ, his horrid gaze caused the young redhead to freeze in place, paralyzed by terror. And suddenly, an unseen force drew her towards him as the petrifying fear consumed her.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed, her body going stiff.
"Mary Jane!" yelled Peter, trying to grab her, but falling short.
Ignoring his pleas, Hotshot held the young woman in a choke hold and held his fiery blade to her neck, effectively stopping Slayer from making any further attacks.
"Oh shit," he muttered, "Not this."
"Don't even try it, Slayer!" yelled Hotshot, gripping the terrified young woman without mercy, "Take one step closer and I'll rip her head off!"
"You're making a big mistake, Hotshot!" warned Slayer, still holding his sword in a ready position.
"I'll risk it," he grinned, "Besides, I know you don't want another death like this on your conscious."
Such words hit Slayer in a mysterious way. He fell silent, lowering his sword as his eyes were locked with that of the young woman. He froze at the fear in her eyes, a look he knew all too well. It brought back a surge of memories, many of which were very painful to him. And through his mind, a single name echoed ominously.
Knowing he had Slayer right where he wanted him, Hotshot's grip intensified on the young woman. Her suffering would surely make him stronger and nothing would him back, leaving his enemy utterly defenseless.
"Yes. That's it. Give in!" grinned Hotshot, "I'll make sure the screams of every last one of these kids haunts you forever! Starting with this little bitch right here!"
"NO!" yelled Peter.
Ignoring any sense of restraint, he leapt forward with his spider-like agility and drop kicked Hotshot right in the torso.
"Argh!" he yelled, releasing Mary Jane in the process.
"Let her go you sick demented excuse for a Wes Craven knock-off!" yelled Peter, landing a heavy punch on his face.
Peter's outburst shocked even his peers. Nobody could punch that hard or move that fast. Nobody except…Spider-Man. Many minds were going a mile a minute as Peter prepared to punch him again, but this time Hotshot caught his fist and gripped it hard, making him grunt in pain as his demonic skin felt like burning coal.
"You little, shit!" growled Hotshot, "I don't know who you are, but you've just made the top of my list!"
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" yelled Peter, feeling his hand burn.
"Yes! That's it! Feel the pain! Feel the suffering! It's delicious! I could do this forever!"
"Too bad you're going to have to settle for a few seconds," said Slayer, gripping his sword and springing into action.
While Hotshot was distracted with Peter, Slayer shot forth in a burst of speed and impaled the demon madman with his sword. His window of opportunity was short, but he took that chance and when he felt his blade connect, he knew it paid off.
"Arrrrrrrgh!" yelled Hotshot, releasing Peter's fist as he fell back, "You son of a…"
But before he could finish, Slayer grinned and sent his nemesis packing.
"Later Hotshot," he said, his sword glowing brilliantly as it reacted with the evil aura of Hotshot, "I always knew you were a dropout."
Then, with a grunt of raw determination, two mystical symbols atop Slayer's hands erupted in a flash of white light, fueling the power of his sword as a radiant energy consumed Hotshot. And in the blink of an eye, his demonic form disintegrated along with the fiery shell he had cast upon the gym.
"ERRRRAAHHHH! I WILL GET YOU, SLAYER!" he yelled as his form faded.
And with a flash it was over.
In a fit of exhaustion, Slayer fell to the ground, breathing hard from such exertion. Whatever he just did, it really took a lot out of him. His armor was slightly mangled and there were some noticeable bruises from the fall. But he was alright as the crowd of students gathered around him.
"Dude," said Flash as everybody gazed at the mutant warrior in awe.
"Like seriously," said Liz, staying close to MJ.
Still gripping his hand in pain, Peter returned to MJ's side, not taking his eyes off the mutant warrior. He felt many suspicious eyes on him. He knew he had taken a chance by going after Hotshot. But he didn't have a choice. Now it looked as though his secret was out.
But thankfully, everybody seemed more concerned with the mysterious mutant warrior who had delivered the final blow. He was still breathing hard and he looked pretty hurt. Nevertheless, he remained calm as he grasped his shoulder and stood up.
"Sorry about that, kids," he said, sounding almost casual, "I run with a rough crowd."
Getting no laughs from his remark, Slayer sighed as he gathered himself before the bewildered youths. What they had just seen was difficult to process. A monster like Hotshot had a way of scarring those he came across. And the best way to mend such wounds was to forget they were ever there.
"I know you all have plenty of questions. But believe me, you don't want to know the answers. I'm sorry you all had to be a part of this, but rest assured it'll never haunt you again."
"Haunt us?" said Peter, still grasping his hand, "Who are you? What the hell is all this?!"
Smiling over at the young man who had helped him, the symbol on the mutant warrior's eye began to glow a bright yellow. While he was still in a great deal of discomfort, he gritted his teeth in determination and cast a single spell to end this nightmare once and for all. Before long, the light consumed the area as the world around them began to fade.
"The answer to that is in my all seeing eye. Just look into it and feel its power. And before you know it, you won't remember a thing."
The next thing Peter knew, he was back in the stands again, sitting next to Mary Jane, listening to a cheering crowd. It felt as though he had just woken up from a nightmare and he hadn't even been asleep. Jolted into this renewed reality, he shot up from his seat and scanned the area. But much to his amazement, he saw nothing out of the ordinary, just a regular Midtown pep rally.
"Peter? Peter, are you okay?" asked Mary Jane, looking confused by her boyfriend's actions.
"What the…did you see it?!" exclaimed Peter, "Tell me you saw it too!"
"Saw what?" she asked with a confused look, "Peter, you look like you've just seen a ghost."
However, he decided to stop there. Looking down at the hand that had been burned by Hotshot, he found that he didn't have a mark on him. It was as if the whole thing had been a dream. Looking up at the ceiling, there was no hole, no thud, no hint of anything amiss.
It was just too strange. Grasping his head in confusion, he ran out through the crowd in desperate need of some air.
"Peter? Where are you going?" yelled Mary Jane.
"I just…need some air!" he said, short of breath, "I'll call you later!"
Her voice quickly faded in the crowed as Peter dashed out into the halls and ran, not looking back as the warm air outside hit his face and he began a frantic walk back to his home in Queens.
Leaving his backpack and books behind, the young man with the powers of a spider tried to make sense out of what had just happened. He walked in a daze, making his way through the familiar streets purely by instinct. He didn't even know he was going home, but he could care less. He just had to get through this mess.
Oh man. What was that? Did I just have a nightmare without even going to sleep?
Looking around, Peter scanned the area for any trace of the warrior or the demon. But there was nothing there. Everything was in its place. Nothing was amiss.
Feeling as if the world around him was closing in, his spider powers kicked in and he started leaping across rooftops in an effort to get home faster. It still felt as though a gallon of adrenaline was coursing through his system. He hadn't felt this dazed since Doc Ock kidnapped him. He didn't know what had happened or even if it was real. All he knew is he had to get home.
Ugh, I must be going crazy. Sane people don't just dream fighting some monster with a guy in a samurai costume and having it all disappear. Maybe my spider powers are finally starting to affect my mind. Maybe I'm going insane just like Norman Osborn. Maybe I'll end up like…
But it was as this point where he stopped himself. Shaking his head of such thoughts, he landed at the cellar entrance of his house in Queens, wanting nothing more than to collapse in bed.
No, don't think things like that, Parker. You're just tense. Who wouldn't be after you've lost your parents, your Uncle, your friend, and still fight bad guys with spider powers you never asked for? I just need to mellow out. I need…
But as he descended into his basement in search of solitude, he was met with a most unexpected sight. Sitting on his trunk with a first aid kit in hand was the mysterious warrior he thought he had just dreamed. He was bare-chested, wrapping his arm with bandages to cover the scar left from the battle that everybody forgot about. And he was just sitting there as if nothing serious had happened.
"No way…" gasped Peter, his eyes wide with shock.
"Hey, you're home early," said Slayer with a grin, "Sorry to bust in, but my arm is killing me. You got any disinfectant? Or at least some booze? Because I could really go for a drink."
IT'S NO DREAM! DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!