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Spider-Man: Black and Blue (AU) Chapter 21: Showdown
🕑 Added 2025-10-04 07:39:12 +0000 UTC[Third person POV]
“Come on, Marko, O’Hirm, seriously? Can you guys please find something else to do besides robbing places?” Spider-Man asked, exasperation lacing his voice as he looked up toward the two men suspended upside down, tightly cocooned in webbing between two lamp posts. “This is the second time this week. I’m starting to think you guys just like spending time with me.”
Marko grunted and swung back slightly, his frustration evident. “Can you do something else besides constantly getting in our way?! You’re always there ruining our plans!”
Spider-Man tilted his head thoughtfully, then perked up. “Actually? I can do a lot of things. Modeling, photography, I draw sometimes—got a killer charcoal style. I even dabble in salsa dancing.” He began shimmying on the sidewalk with exaggerated flair. “I’m basically a one-man entertainment show. I do bar mitzvahs, quinceañeras, weddings. I mean, I'm just sayin’—I could really anything you guys want”
O’Hirm sneered, struggling against the webbing. “What I want… is you dead.”
“Oooh, dark. But hey, sorry to disappoint, I don’t do funerals,” Spider-Man quipped, looking down at his sleek white-and-blue spider suit. “Plus, I’m kinda fresh out of all-black ensembles. Bad for branding, y’know?”
Before either criminal could spit back another insult, Spider-Man flicked his wrists and fired two quick web shots, sealing their mouths shut. “Yap-yap-yap. Man, villains today just never stop talking. Hold that thought, I’ve got a call coming in.”
He tapped the side of his head, activating the comms. “Yo, what’s up?”
“Head uptown. Fast,” Richard’s voice came through his earpiece, urgent and steady. “Something weird’s going down by the Hardy Foundation. The police are flooded with calls. Witnesses say some maniac is wreaking havoc, but nobody can tell what exactly’s going on.”
“I’m on it,” Damon—aka Spider-Man—replied firmly. He heard sirens blaring in the distance, no doubt heading to collect the webbed-up goons. He stepped back and grinned up at them.
“Alright, boys. Don’t cause any more trouble, yeah? And remember…” He raised both hands and gave them finger guns. “Behave. Or else.”
With that, Damon leapt into the air, launching a webline to a nearby building and swinging high through the skyline. One web shot after the other propelled him forward in a blur of white and blue.
“Bro, this sounds really serious,” Richard’s voice came again, lower this time, with an edge of tension. “You’d better hurry.”
Damon’s brows furrowed beneath his mask. He nodded to himself, his body tightening with urgency. “Copy that.”
He reached out with both arms and fired twin weblines at opposing buildings. As they stuck, he used the momentum to slingshot himself forward with such force it looked like he was flying. Wind whipped past him as the city blurred below.
When the Hardy Foundation finally came into view, his heart skipped a beat.
Smoke—thick, black, and choking—billowed into the sky, pouring from the ground, mostly from the parked cars . The building’s surroundings were damaged, and chaos had erupted all around it. Cars were flipped over, some reduced to smoking metal husks. People screamed and huddled together, too terrified to move.
Police cruisers circled the area, officers rushing to evacuate civilians. But floating in the air, commanding all attention, was a man radiating arcs of uncontained electricity.
“Come out, Anastasia!” the man bellowed, voice crackling like thunder. Electricity snapped and danced across his body in violent surges. “I know you’re in there! Come and fix me!”
Spider-Man perched himself on a nearby ledge, his white lenses narrowing behind the mask. “What the hell…”
“Dude, are you seeing this?” Damon whispered into his mic.
“Yeah… yeah, I see it,” Richard responded. “The camera in your lenses we recently installed is working perfectly, but—wow. This is insane.”
The man floated higher, energy building visibly in his veins, a storm barely contained in human form. “If you don’t come out right now, I’ll tear this place apart! I’ll destroy the very building that made me into this freak! You did this to me, Anastasia! You owe me!”
Just as Damon shifted his weight to prepare a leap, the building's front doors burst open.
Out walked Anastasia Hardy—confident, composed, and unflinching. Her heels clicked against the concrete, her coat fluttering behind her like a cape. She stared up at the furious man in the sky with calm authority.
“Max!” she called out sharply. “Stop this madness immediately!”
Max—better known to some as Electro—stopped in mid-rant. His glowing eyes locked onto her.
“I tried to help you, Max,” she continued, her voice unwavering. “I offered support, treatment, solutions. You refused them. You murdered a guard during a containment breach. Everything that’s happened after that—your chaos, your destruction—that’s on you, not me.”
On the rooftop, Damon let out a low whistle. “Sheesh. What a babe. Classy and commanding. Kinda love that look.”
Richard groaned in his ear. “Focus. She’s literally twice your age. And we’re in the middle of a supervillain showdown.”
“Right, right,” Damon whispered back, though the smile lingered under his mask. ‘Still… maybe not the smartest move walking out like that. She’s just making herself a target out in the open.’
And judging by the way Max’s lightning flared even more violently, Damon was absolutely right.
“You call what they were doing to me helping?!” Max’s voice exploded like thunder, his eyes burning with betrayal as he floated above the wreckage. “I was confined! Strapped down like some lab rat!” Sparks exploded from his fingertips as he gestured wildly. “That wasn’t treatment—that was torture!”
Anastasia inhaled sharply but kept her composure, even as her heart began to pound faster. She took a small step forward, her heels crunching lightly against the glass-strewn pavement. “Max… please. I'm giving you one more chance. Just stop this madness, and I’ll do everything in my power to help you. But you need to stand down. Look around you. Look at what you're doing.”
Max’s glare sharpened. His body buzzed like a live wire, the air around him humming with raw electricity. “And how exactly do you plan to help me, huh?” he growled. “More straps? More tests? More needles?”
“I–I’ll talk to my scientists,” Anastasia said, her voice faltering just a touch. Her gaze flicked toward the police officers now exiting their cars, guns trained on Max. They were surrounding him, waiting for something… a signal… a mistake.
‘What are they doing? Why aren’t they acting? Are they seriously… waiting for me to talk him down?’ Anastasia realized, her anxiety growing. ‘I’m not trained for this.’
Max’s eyes followed hers to the police. His fists clenched tight, and a surge of blue-white lightning coiled around his arms like angry snakes. “You…” he growled. “You’re stalling. This was never about helping me, was it?!”
“No!” Anastasia cried, her confidence cracking. “No, I’m not! I just—just give me a minute—”
“Too late,” Max snarled. “You’re useless. All I ever needed was a word with the scientists, not their piggybank!”
With a roar, he threw up his arm, his body engulfed in a pulsating electrical field responding on instinct as at that moment, a hail of gunfire rang out. The bullets met his energy field and disintegrated into dust, glowing red before evaporating.
Then—BOOM—a bolt of lightning surged from Max’s hand, ripping through the air like a divine spear.
Anastasia didn’t even have time to scream. The bolt arced straight for her—but then a sharp thwip! rang out, and a white blur snatched her away just as the bolt struck the ground where she stood. A burst of heat and a thunderous boom followed, leaving charred concrete in its wake.
“AHHH!!” Anastasia cried out, clutching tightly around her rescuer’s neck as she was whisked through the air.
“Woah there, gorgeous,” Spider-Man said with a grin beneath his mask, holding her securely by the waist with one arm as they swung through the sky. “Talk about perfect timing. Would’ve been a real shame to lose such a fine lady before we even got properly introduced.”
Max’s eyes followed them, his lips curling in frustration. Before he could retaliate, a bullet whizzed dangerously close to his head—but his electrical field flared, repelling it harmlessly. He turned, seething, glaring daggers at the officers below.
Meanwhile, Spider-Man landed gently on a nearby rooftop, setting Anastasia down with care. She stumbled slightly before catching herself and looked at him in awe.
“You… You saved me,” she breathed, still shaken. “Thank you. Those cops… they were completely useless.”
Spider-Man chuckled, a little smugly, then sighed with mock disappointment. “As much as I’d love to get to know you a little better—maybe over coffee or, y’know, disaster-free conversation—I’ve got a little lightning problem to handle.”
He turned toward the chaos and locked eyes on Max, who was charging up another attack. The villain pulled back his arm and unleashed a torrent of electricity straight at a police cruiser. The police officers that were taking cover behind the door leapt away at the last second.
The blast struck it like a wrecking ball. The vehicle flipped over, flames exploding outward as metal twisted and screeched. The fire roared high, its reflection flickering in Spider-Man’s lenses.
Anastasia stepped up beside him, her expression turning hard. “Put an end to him,” she said firmly. “And be careful. He’s dangerous.”
Spider-Man gave her a half-salute and grinned. “If I come back with broken ribs, I hope you’re the one nursing me back to health.”
With that, he leapt into the air and shot a webline toward the nearest rooftop, hurling himself forward like a missile.
Down below, Max turned his attention to the pair of cops that had leapt away just now, their weapons trembling in their hands. He drew in a breath and pulled both arms back, lightning crawling up his veins.
‘They didn’t hesitate to shoot me,’ Max thought bitterly. ‘Why should I hesitate to end them? I’m already a monster in their eyes…’
As the lightning erupted from his hands and flew toward the terrified officers, two weblines shot from the sky and latched onto the officers’ shoulders, yanking them back just in time. The bolt slammed into the pavement, blasting a crater into the street and sending shards of asphalt flying.
Max looked up with a growl just as Spider-Man landed on a nearby lamppost, perched with the rescued cops beneath him on the curb.
“Sorry, Patrick! Better luck next time!” Spider-Man teased with a grin, launching himself back into the air.
“MY NAME’S NOT PATRICK! IT’S MAX!” the villain screamed in rage, his body pulsing with even more power as he flew to meet his adversary head-on.
And as their collision course began, one thing became clear:
This was their first encounter— But it would not be their last.
Comments
Bryan Vargas
A wouldn't exactly call him a simp but he definitely has a thing for older woman
Vrati
So Damon is a simp…for milf.
