Spider-Man. The House Of Venom

The Past.

The armour hissed as Norman stepped from it. He may have mocked her, but that freak had done a number on it. The fight in Central Park had done more damage than he had wanted to admit.

The taser she shot fried most of the EMP countermeasures. He had ten rounds left in each ammo holder and the loss of the flight system was crippling. While the booster jets in the boots could be refuelled, they were mainly for emergencies. If he had an arc reactor like that idiot Stark then he could sustain flight. But if wishes were horses, beggars would ride his father always told him.

He clenched a fist in anger and was about to punch an already dented section when he saw the tremor. Holding his arm tensed he unclenched his fist. He watched in horror as his fingers trembled and curled on their own.

“No!” he snarled. The formula was perfect in small doses. There should have been no side effects.

Norman huffed angrily and sat at his computer. He called up the manifest for the Enhancer and paled as he saw how much was left. Five bottles.

He sat back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. He had taken over forty-five bottles. The maximum safe dosage was one bottle every six months. He had been taking four bottles a month.

When it was trialled test subjects showed only minor intelligence gains. Upping the dosage only proved disastrous. It was the same as overclocking a computer. Holes would start to burn themselves into the brain matter. Nerves would short and die as they failed to handle the extra neural load. Of the one hundred test subjects, most were drooling vegetables by the end of the trial. Even using death row prisoners hadn't abated Norman's anger. It was still a failure, and it was still money wasted hiding the bodies.

His anger spiked, and he angrily swept the monitor off the desk. “Fucking Harry!”

He knew there was only one person with access to the archive other than himself. Harry. He had been played by his son once more. Distracted by Liv who had access to his office and focused on defeating Venom. Even Shaw would have had his hand in there somewhere. It was a conspiracy against him but they wouldn't; win. No, he was still smart. The side effects were negligible right now. Shaking and mood swings were easy enough to deal with. Once he started to forget things, then he would be in trouble.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. The only person who could help him now would be Shaw. He probably had some mutant freak to heal the damage and Oscorp would end up in his pocket. Harry would be made CEO and they would laugh as they undid his life's work.

No, he thought. I need another angle. I need Conners.

As the creator of the formula, he would know how to undo the damage carefully. He would be able to save him. Finding him shouldn’t be that difficult. He huffed in annoyance and lifted the monitor back onto the desk. One corner was cracked but it still worked.

It would be an easy task. The chemical makeup of the formula was simple enough. It was combining it in the correct sequence that was the hard part. Everything you needed was readily available over the counter if you knew what to buy.

Norman clenched his fist and started to search. Being somewhat of a scientist himself, he knew exactly what Conners would need to run a formula lab.

Once Norman had run his search algorithm there were only four locations. Now all he had to do was use the smaller scout drones to watch for any signs. A one-armed man would not be difficult to find.

⁂

The Present.

Life had been going well for Curt. After the incident at the supermarket, he had another lead. His social life with the rather beautiful woman had been going well. Even after he told her the truth she didn't scream and try and run away. She was even helping him. She was wonderful and sweet like that, just like he remembered. She had also told him that a meeting with her nephew would only happen once she was sure he would be safe. If anything happened to him, transforming into a giant monster would be the least of his problems.

He’d even managed to snag a part-time job tutoring failing high school students. It was flexible, not entirely frustrating, and most importantly it paid really well.

As long as he paid attention to the niggling doubts in his head, he was even managing to fend off the Lizard as well.

He had put his episode down to the young woman and had stayed away from Sunset Park. If she was one of the costumed vigilantes she could be on Norman's payroll. Another victim of his mutagenic formula as well.

The Lizard was obsessed as much as he was but he wanted a cure for his arm, not to mutate more people into human hybrids. It was a war on two fronts. One for control of the physical and another for finding a cure. He would often wake to find scrawled notes on a potentially lethal formula and his own destroyed. They fought for what formula to create, and neither was in control long enough to finish.

It didn’t help that for the past few days he had felt that itch in the back of his scalp. The feeling he was being hunted. He hadn’t seen anyone. No strange or unknown people. Only the regulars that the staff at his now grocery store seemed to already know.

Something was wrong, he just didn’t know what.

⁂

Norman snorted as he watched Conners through a spy drone. These days everyone had one and kids flew them to film those idiotic viewtube clips. One more, spying on the comings and goings, was nothing to be alarmed about.

He caught Conners looking around as if he knew. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility. The drones might have been silent to a normal person but Conners was different. The experimental formula he used had undocumented side effects. re-growing the man's arm was the intended effect. Transforming him into a giant lizard monster had granted him unknown powers. Whoever had tried to kill him had sent him scurrying into hiding before Osborn had tested them all.

What would alert him would be trying to tag him. For that, he would need the armour. Norman was intelligent but his formula was just that. He wouldn’t grow or gain super strength. He was just smarter.

Norman sighed as he recalled the drone. He had Conner's schedule and could wait until it was busier to tag him. A simple tracer round wouldn't kill Lizard and Norman didn’t care about the peons that inhabited the city. All he cared about was revenge.

A row of tracer rounds, each with an armour-piercing tip and an RDF tagging core were done. He had also made sure to restock his own ammo. They weren't perfect but with the batch of ammo he had left he could make more. He just needed to siphon off the energy into new cores. Why use a round designed for a tank on a person? Instead of the ten rounds, he now had one hundred. Not as effective but just as lethal.

Now all he had to do was wait, and Conners would be his.

⁂

Wading through the sewer was not Goblin’s idea of a good time. He was thankful the suit was waterproof and could even operate underwater. He hated not having flight or a backup system for travel. Once he found Conners and forced him to fix the issues with the formula he would work on that next. Show the world that Stark was just a shadow of his brilliance.

At least his navigation system worked down here. It worked better as the narrow tunnel amplified the signal he was currently tracking.

Conners was above him, now all he needed was an exit. If he couldn't find one, well, he still had one pumpkin bomb left.

⁂

Curt was hurled through the air as the ground a few feet from him exploded outwards. As he scrambled back to his feet he heard the creepy laugh the Goblin liked to make echo out of the sewers,

“Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt. I come not to scare but to remove a foul creature from your midsts.” Goblin exclaimed. “There, a foul monster hiding in human skin.”

Nobody was paying him any attention. As soon as the manhole cover exploded the crowd of shoppers ran. Nobody was stupid enough to stay. Even the most daring, recording with their phones, were taking cover behind cars.

Hulks were one thing but Goblin was a murderer. Nine-One-One calls were made frantically as people ran.

Goblin raised his wrist and Curt screamed in pain as a round tore through his flesh. He could feel something embedded in his shoulder but that paled in comparison to the pain. It tore at his mind, tore at his reasoning and the Lizard snarled and tore back.

Lizard's transformation took a few seconds. The formula pumped through his body, egged on by pain and adrenaline. Fight or flight. He may have run from the scary creature-man-thing and his mate, but this one was nothing but meat for his stomach. He had eaten tinned meat before. It was delicious.

Lizard growled and crouched on all fours, “Osborn. Pathetic creature. Hiding in metal. Coward, simpleton,” he hissed.

Goblin kept his wrist launcher pointed at Lizard, “and if you come with me, I will spare these insects. I have marked you. There is nowhere to hide. Come quietly.” As Lizard hissed and thick claws erupted from his fingers he hissed once more, “Or not. I don’t care.” Goblin laughed and sprayed bullets into the running people.

Lizard cared little for the flesh bags as they burst. The blood smelled delicious but he knew Osborn was the real threat. As he crouched he sprang from side to side, avoiding the hot metal as it tore into him. His armoured skin was more than enough against the tiny fragments.

The Conners will complain his clothes are ruined, stupid Connors.

He sprang and grappled with Goblin's arm. The man laughed as he fired one wrist into the fleeing crowd while the other was aimed at Lizard,

“Surrender, and I’ll help you with your scaly problem. I need Conners, and you can't hide.” Goblin whispered but as Lizard hissed back, Goblin leaned back and headbutted him. “Stupid creature. I offer you a lab and a life, and you spit in my face.”

Lizard shook his head and leapt back, landing on all fours, “We hate you, even Conners hates you. We are like this because of you. We know you lie.”

Servos whined as Goblin raised his foot to stomp on Lizard but the creature rolled to one side. His thick tail swung out and whacked Goblin in the side sending him flying into a car.

“Insect. We offer you greatness and you spurn us because of pettiness. We- Oof!”

Lizard had enough of the man talking. He felt the pain in his shoulder as it healed around the metal and he knew he could have to dig it out later. Now though, he needed to crush Osborn. His tail swung out, sending some of the rubble from Goblin's entrance flying into his chest. Lizard hissed at him and finding a suitable piece lifted it and hurled it at Golbin.

“Insufferable idiot.” Goblin was mad. He had expected Connors to flee. He ran before so why was this scaly buffoon now fighting back? He needed either the man himself or his lab, and the tracker in his shoulder would give him both.

“So be it.” Goblin raised his wrist launchers one more. “I always wanted lizard skin boots,” he added before the magazines spun and bullets flew.

⁂

The alarm sounded and while he knew it wasn’t an emergency George Stacy smiled.

It was a new setup. Any calls coming flagging certain keywords were routed to another switchboard. Traffic cameras in the area were diverted to confirm any Enhanced criminals. Once it was all verified the alarm sounded. The system had been tested until it was perfect. Anything less cost lives.

It had been less than five minutes since the first call. Now he and the rest of the Enhanced Task Force were heading to the armoury to gather their equipment.

He was proud as his new men donned thick vests, designed to withstand powerful blows. Even prouder with the Hammertech ‘Thud’ guns. Heavy ordinance rounds, designed to spread out an impact. Even armoured targets suffered from bleedthrough shock. Hammer had talked through the demonstration. It wasn't as impressive as Osborns but nobody died. Hammer had gotten his contract and the ETF got their new guns.

They had drilled over and over. To fully outfit the unit, load them into the van and order the roll-out had taken five minutes

He slapped the side of the car with a dull echo, “Roll out. We’ve monsters to slay.”