Spider-Man. The House Of Venom

Peter's month had not been going well at all.

Felicia had laughed at his hat. He had gone to a store, claiming it was for a Halloween costume and asked very nicely if they had one. He described the costume and resisted the urge to glare at the sales assistant when she called it. "Fifties detective Spider-Man."

He still bought a hat, but not just Felicia thought it was dorky. Even Liv picked on him. They decided his fashion sense left a little to be desired. MJ even offered that if he ever did change his costume, she would help him.

Then they had all complained about his new armour form, claiming it was too big and bulky. Its thick armour looked menacing, and while protective, added an air of intimidation. If he wanted to be a more street-friendly hero, it would have to go.

The last straw was when Felicia pointed out that he looked like Flash in his footballer uniform. She had then, in what MJ called a stage whisper, told him that she would not have sex with him as they swung again if he used it. That started a small argument as to why nobody else got swing sex, and several dates were planned. Liv was less than thrilled at the idea. So Peter promised her something less terrifying and more intimate.

Finding time, he started to slim the armour down. It had been a chore but he mentally strained himself to compress the armour and tone back down. At least Felicia kissed him on the cheek as a reward.

He couldn't even say his training with Elektra was as much fun as with Felicia. Huntress held back. Elektra did not.

"What use is training to fight if I don't hurt you" she would yell, right before trying to stab him with a sword. At least he learned. In honesty, Peter loved to learn with her. He could cut loose, and she took as much as she gave.

After their sessions, both were just as bloody and both just as exhausted. It was a small mercy Peter thought, that she was too tired to try and sleep with him. Even if she just walked into the shower half the time, handed him soap and stood waiting. There was a line, and neither crossed it, but he would never say no to a shower with the muscular olive-skinned beauty.

Once that was no longer an issue he began to try and identify and control his powers. The regeneration was easy. He had control of the armour, and he was learning to create and send his healing cells to an area. Creating a diverse selection of webbing, as Poison could, was out of his control.

It was his attempts to assimilate with other technology that failed. Not only that but right now, Gwen and Liv were giving him a lecture.

"No offence Peter but uh, we already knew about that power, so why are you in a huff?"

Gwen put a cup of coffee in front of Peter, who was sitting slouched in his chair with his arms crossed.

"I mean. I'm a chemist and Poison can reproduce any chemical I can think of. MJ is an actress and Muse can replicate her clothes into any style she likes. and Huntress is well, Huntress. Stealth isn't that much of a stretch."

"And I've got night vision," Felicia shouted from the kitchen.

"See. Wait? Night vision, really?" Gwen shouted back.

"But still," Peter huffed, "I just didn't think about it, I mean, what about my cool visor?"

"Peter dear, I know you're brilliant but really? You glued some sunglasses to a Bluetooth headset. It's not exactly an award-winning design," Liv added, blowing on her own coffee. "The real reason dear Peter is in a huff is I wouldn't let him take the microwave apart too." Liv held up her hands and made air quotes, "and I quote 'make a cool radiation gun'."

Gwen shook her head "Uh yeah Pete, radiation isn't a really great weapon. I mean, you could literally cook someone, so no. No radiation guns"

Peter made a hmph noise, and Liv sighed, "and that's why he's in a huff."

"Show him your boobs," MJ shouted and as she walked from her home she noticed a light coming from one of the offices. "Hey, did you guys leave something running?"

"I've got the harness parts being analysed but uh, nothing major why?" Peter shouted back, staring with a grin as both Gwen and Liv lifted their tops. Liv looked over at the young woman and winked in appreciation.

Gwen knew Liv was bisexual, as Felicia had taken over Peter's shower duty on one or two occasions. With her outright stare, she left Gwen blushing at her wandering eyes.

"Nothing," MJ shouted back, and peeking her head around the door saw the screen flicker and then die. She shrugged and closed the door. A few more moments and she would have caught it, that brief flicker of life on the screen.

IF

I=Electro

THEN

Peter Parker=Dead

⁂

In another lab, in another part of town, another screen flicked into life as well. a tech reading its contents pushed his intercom. "Subject 95, Deceased, returning symbiote to its container."

They never repeated the success of either the first attempt or the kid who was brought in. Each time the subject just simply died on the table. Every time the symbiotes overtaxed their bodies.

He pressed a few buttons with his one good arm. The attack from the missing subject destroyed his arm, and it was slowly healing. The containment system flashed red and began to shock the symbiote into its box.

"Symbiote 02 Returned to Containment"

The technician wondered if the bonding process was flawed and that maybe the kid was just lucky. His boss disagreed and overruled him. The Symbiotes were healthy, it was the subjects that were to blame.

"Hey," he heard his boss shout, "it's your turn," and he cursed.

He hated going in there with subject zero with his creepy stares and his weird laugh. "Fine, fine." He gathered the nutrient powder into its bottle, added water and shook it to mix it. Number Seven was his favourite. Coffee.

"Open subject zero containment," he shouted at the end of the corridor, and a door slammed behind him. Once subject zero had escaped and killed fourteen men before being subdued. He was now held in special restraints designed to kill rather than incapacitate. The nameless tech shudder to think what he would do if he escaped again.

"Why, howdy warden," the man drawled, turning his head as far around as he could. He was a skinny man but even so, the tech kept his distance. He was unshaven and his thick red hair hung down in scruffy locks over his eyes. No one had been willing to take a blade anywhere near him, not after the last time.

Thick chains held him to the wall. Clamps held him at the waist, ankles and wrists. Around his neck was a thicker collar, with a small silver disk pressed to his neck. They had been told, that if he escaped, the collar was a guillotine, and they were authorised to use it.

"I heard on the news that Norman Osborn killed a whole buncha people."

The tech slid the drink bottle into its holder and pressed a button. It slid into the clear glass cell and a hatch slammed down, closing it.

As the man sipped at the cold drink through its thick straw, unable to move more than his head.

"I hear it’s absolute carnage out there," he said. His high-pitched laugh echoed around his room as the terrified technician fled.

⁂

Far from the clean labs and bright lights, one man didn't find the situation amusing at all. When he watched Norman kill the soldier, he absentmindedly rubbed where his arm used to be.

He had worked tirelessly to build working lab equipment from scrap. He found old junked machines at hospitals, and even on occasion woke to find that his other had just stolen them. He hoped nothing was damaged, and no one was injured when he had an episode.

Down here he was safe. He had to venture up sometimes but he waited until he was sure he was in control, was sure he wouldn't slip. The machines needed samples and he needed food. The other might like rats but he wanted vegetables, he wanted clean water and sugar for coffee. His episode had forced him to move to another part of town and he was running out of places to buy groceries.

As he slotted another sample into the machine he even thought about the woman he had met. She was kind and understanding and hoped he could be above ground more often. She might even be able to help him.

The machine dinged, and he turned the monitor to check the results.

"Sample four-eight-nine incompatible," the machine beeped at him and he roared in rage.

"No no!" he yelled, and his lab coat, filthy and tattered began to expand. His face began to stretch and grow, and the sickening crunch of bones as his missing arm regrew,

"Yes, yes," the new monster hissed, "Osborn will taste our pain, Osborn will pay." Even with thick clawed fingers, it carefully slotted another sample into the machine.

"Sample four-nine-zero testing in progress"

⁂

In stark contrast to the underground lab, a man stood looking out of his penthouse window. He looked in his mid-thirties, but his eyes betrayed a much older mind.

"How bad?" his voice rumbled as he spoke.

The other man, a smartly dressed blue-skinned man with close-shaven hair, spoke. "In the Kitchen, we lost all three dens. One was Venom, one was Venom and an unidentified female. The last was Huntress and an unidentified female."

"Projected losses."

"They were cleaned out. We lost Zeit and Blob. No subjects were left alive. Except." He paused, "Subject X Twenty-Three."

The man waved a hand "we don't even know if Blob could kill her, but the last. You lost."

The man shifted uncomfortably, "She was a mutant. They all are."

The man sighed, "Emma?"

On a couch, ignoring both men, lay a young woman. She was dressing in fine white leather pants, a crop top and a halter jacket, lined with white fur. "I haven't felt anyone new, so they might be Osborn's pets."

"Osborn assures me that none of his tests escaped. No. We have a new player, and not that idiot either. I want you to find her, and through her, find him. I don't care what you do. If he can be bought, then buy him. if not then I expect three new heads for my trophy room."

Emma rolled her eyes and folded the newspaper, "I was rather hoping to lead the new MGH facilities. I know you've moved them.”

"No." the man said. "I have another for that task. You are to remain here. Your talents are better suited here."

She rolled her eyes again, "So? You want me to fuck him I suppose."

"Emma, I don't care if you fuck all four of them. Find them, turn them or kill them. Am I clear?"

Emma snorted. "Crystal darling."

"Good now both of you, get out."

He turned and sat at his desk. The month had not gone well. His mole had died, and his arms manufacturer had died. Pieces were moving on the board that once upon a time he would have swept clear. Someone was playing games in his town, and they were screwing up his plans.

It was bad enough Osborn had gone crazy, but Harry was just as ambitious and just as stupid. The boy would play into his hands, just like the rest.

⁂

Harry Osborn stood at a podium. The investigations were finished, and Oscorp was in tatters. Norman was a wanted fugitive, but no evidence of tampering on the part of Oliva Octavius could be proven. She was still a 'person of interest’ but no search or arrest warrants had been issued.

"We witnessed a tragedy. The loss of life was immeasurable and the actions of one man were unconscionable. Like many of you, I saw my father, Norman Osborn as a rock, a foundation on which our society not only stood but prospered."

"Oscorp is the leading technology company in not just the United States but around the world. in the New Year," Harry paused, "Oscorp, no, We failed. The efforts my father put into saving people ultimately cost us all more."

"My last act as a board member of Oscorp is to set aside ten million dollars. A fund to help the families of those who lost their loved ones. The least I can do for what was ultimately Norman Osborn's hubris and arrogance."

"The money will be made available to the families of those hurt. We will write a check, and it is not our job to decide how that is spent. We have set up bereavement counsellors in addition to this. It is our hope that our efforts ensure nobody suffers a tragedy like this again."

Harry raised his hand, "and now I know, it's all PR, right? To shine a torch away from what was wrong with Norman and I can say, with full sincerity, that you are wrong."

"We allowed the US military, the FBI, and our friends at Shield full access to our files. We hid nothing and made sure they saw and recorded everything they needed to. Oscorp took full responsibility for this tragedy."

Harry paused to take a small sip of water.

"I will also be divesting myself of Oscorp. All my stocks and shares are being sold and all my assets within the company are being liquidated."

"I am as outraged and as horrified by my father's actions as you are. I hope that the good people who suffered under this tragedy find some modicum of peace. That my actions will bring hope. That, ultimately, my father will be brought to justice for this horrendous crime. Thank you."

To a stunned crowd, Harry walked off the stage. Before law enforcement served their warrants he had crews moving everything he needed.

Not just from the archive but from his own personal server. Files were carefully altered before being added in. The footage of his father injecting the neural enhancer, normally deleted was restored. Everything pointing to Norman and Liv was wrapped in a big bow.

Harry was sure an aspiring tech or investigator would see it was too well packaged but right now, no one would care. There was even talk of suspending normal court procedures. Norman would be tried without capturing him first. New laws, detailing the use of so-called super-powered technology, were being discussed.

It was all coming together beautifully.

His earpiece beeped and he touched it,

"Sir, the move is complete, everything has been moved and cleaning has been completed."

"Good. I'll be back in the office in an hour." Touching the earpiece the call was cut off. Oscorp was dying and anyone with an ounce of sense could tell. 

Various lawsuits had been filed. The patents for the glider and armour had been seized. Even Hammer had begun to make efforts to snatch bites out of the behemoth before it could recover. With Oscorp gone he could now focus on more important research. 

His new company, Life Foundation, wasn't going to run itself.