Peter caught the meta-reference immediately. He considered himself fairly decent-looking, but he certainly didn't share bone structure with Andrew Garfield or Tom Holland. Maybe a mix of both on a good day?
He pushed the thought aside. He dropped into a deep, highly theatrical crouch. He planted one palm flat against the bloodstained carpet and threw his other arm high into the air. He lowered his center of gravity and dropped his voice an entire octave.
"I am an emissary from hell, Supaidaman!"
Up on the ceiling, Cindy tilted her head. Her white lenses narrowed in pure bewilderment. But she held her position, strictly observing S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol. She watched. She didn't initiate.
Wade Wilson gasped. He reached up, grabbed the fabric of his red-and-black mask, and yanked it off. "Then I am the most handsome man in all of Canada, Wade Wilson!"
His face looked like a topographical map of a deep-fried avocado. Peter stood up straight. He pointed a finger at the scarred mercenary.
"Wait, shouldn't that be Wolverine?"
A heavy silence fell over the shattered casino floor. Over by the wreckage, a freshly-healed Logan paused mid-brawl, looking utterly confused. Wade's scarred face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage.
"How dare you! He's clearly an Australian!"
Wade lunged. He stepped forward at lightning speed, swinging his twin adamantium katanas in a blinding horizontal feint. Peter saw the real attack coming. Wade planted his lead foot and snapped his back leg up in a brutal, groin-seeking kick.
Peter's upgraded spider-sense fired, providing layered, directional tracking of the incoming boot. The precognitive warning operated flawlessly. The problem was his strength calibration. The second-mutation instability was still entirely active. Peter pushed off the floor to execute a simple backflip. He launched himself upward with far too much force. His spine slammed brutally into the casino ceiling, cracking the plaster.
Peter rebounded instantly. He kicked off the cracked drywall, using the momentum to drive his fist squarely into Wade's scarred jaw. Wade spun like a top. He staggered sideways, immediately drawing a high-caliber pistol from his thigh holster. Before Wade could align the sights, a white web-line snapped out from the shadows. Cindy yanked the gun from Wade's grip and whipped it across the room.
Wade blinked up at the ceiling. Peter didn't hesitate. He grabbed Wade's left arm, planted his boots, and executed a flawless judo over-the-shoulder throw.
Wade hit the carpet with a heavy thud. Peter stepped back to assess his work. He looked down at his own hand. He was still holding Wade's left arm. It had detached cleanly at the shoulder socket. Wade lay perfectly still on the carpet. He blinked at the severed limb dangling in Peter's grip.
"I see little cartoon birds flying around my head," Wade muttered. Then his single good eye widened. "Hey, wait a minute, handsome. What are you holding? Is that my left arm?" Wade scrambled to his knees, his voice pitching up in fury. "Who do you think I am, Sebastian Stan?"
"I don't know!" Peter yelled. "I just really don't want to look at your face anymore, Wade!"
Peter swung the severed arm like a morbid baseball bat. It smacked Wade directly across the jaw. Peter tried to toss the limb away. It didn't budge. His bio-electric adhesion had glitched. His fingers were completely fused to Wade's dead bicep. Peter panicked. He grabbed the arm with his other hand to pry it loose. Now both hands were stuck.
"Silk! Can you do me a favor? Get this thing off me!"
Cindy dropped gracefully from the ceiling. She shot a thick strand of webbing onto the severed arm. She planted her boots, preparing to pull. Suddenly, she released the tension and sprang backward. Peter's spider-sense flared. He didn't think. He simply hoisted Wade's severed arm up like a fleshy shield.
Wade's adamantium katana sliced cleanly through his own disembodied limb.
Peter stood holding two separate chunks of bicep. Wade charged. Peter swung the bloody meat-sticks wildly without any cohesive strategy. Wade hacked back, giggling beneath his breath. Peter tossed the remaining shreds of flesh onto the carpet. His gloves were finally unstuck.
"Looks like you'll have to grow a new arm, buddy," Peter said.
"But you'll never be able to grow this thing!" Wade screamed, raising his katana high.
Peter blinked out of the visible spectrum. The transition into invisibility was much faster now, requiring almost zero concentration. He vanished into thin air.
Wade froze mid-swing, staring at empty space. Cindy watched from the perimeter. Wade patted his utility belt. A grenade slipped loose. The invisible Peter had pulled it straight from the webbing.
"Watch out for grenades!" Peter's disembodied voice echoed across the floor.
Cindy didn't hesitate. She fired a precise web-line, gluing the live explosive directly to Wade's remaining right wrist. Wade shrieked. He shook his arm frantically. The webbing held firm.
The grenade detonated.
The shockwave blew Wade flat on his back. His right hand was completely gone. Wade dropped to his knees in the smoldering crater. He raised both bloody stumps toward the ceiling, howling a silent question at the universe.
Peter materialized behind the kneeling mercenary. He wrapped his arm tightly around Wade's throat in a sleeper hold, choking him. A massive, controllable surge of bio-electric current pooled in Peter's palms.
"I'm sorry, Wade," Peter whispered directly into Wade's ear. "I'm really sorry." He paused. "But I really love the Green Lantern movies."
Wade's one good eye bulged. "You... you said..." He tried to twist his charred neck to look back. "What..."
Peter unleashed the current. A blinding arc of bio-electric voltage surged out of his hands. The air instantly smelled like ozone and burnt pork. The massive discharge cleared the last of the sticky malfunction from Peter's fingertips. He shook his hands out, breathing a deep sigh of relief.
Wade collapsed face-first into the carpet. His skin was charred completely black.
"Hey, buddy, you know what?" Wade mumbled into the fibers. "Last time I felt this... I was super lonely on a Tuesday night... took apart a lighter... pulled out the electric igniter... and shoved it right into my..."
Peter stepped forward. He punted Wade squarely in the ribs, launching the mercenary straight through the shattered window glass.
"Say something that will pass censorship, Wade!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~