The Extraordinary Spider-Man - Vol 1

Chapter 1: Origins

Likenesses used

Tom Holland as Peter Parker

Dylan Minnette as Harry Osborn

Olivia Rodrigo as Liz Allan

Chris Zylka as Flash Thompson

Josh Brolin as Uncle Ben Parker

Marisa Tomei as Aunt May Parker

Bryan Cranston as Norman Osborn

Jason Statham as MacDonald Gargan

Morena Baccarin as Carmilla Black Gargan

Ron Perkins as Mendel Stromm

J.B. Smoove as Mr. Raymond Warren

Jenny Slate as Mrs. Daphne Boomer

December 21, 2027

"Osborn! You have a visitor!"

Turning around in his glass cell, Norman Osborn waited with his hands behind his back. His facial hair was messy, and his greying hair was swept in front of his eyes. Yet, he was still at peak human condition. And he knew who was visiting him. His theory was only proven correct when a young man walked through the door. His longer brown hair was parted in the middle, and he was wearing a business suit.

Norman smiled. "Peter Parker. How many years has it been?"

Peter walked in front of the cell, facing Norman. "Five. Your old self is probably losing some brain cells."

"Snarky as always. Now, why did you come?"

"You know why."

The smile on Norman's eyes faded. "The news, I take it?"

Peter didn't say anything.

"So after all these years, you think I'm responsible for what's been happening in the past month," Norman deduced. "Extremely flattering, yet so insulting."

"I know you're behind all of this, Norman," Peter said. "Trust me when I say after all these years, you'll finally get what you deserve."

Norman shrugged. "I already have. Five years locked up here. If I even get a few inches close to the glass, the cell will spray knock-out gas. You can only imagine how brutal it would be once I woke up."

"Am I just supposed to believe that after all these years, you just magically chose to atone for your sins and willingly stay here?"

"Clearly, you weren't paying attention. I'd be unconscious before I could even get through the door," Norman stressed.

"That's not the Norman Osborn I know. He always finds a way."

"Could I, though? After everything that's happened in the past thirteen years? After everything and everyone I've lost?"

Peter scoffed. "So you think you're the one that lost people. Pathetic."

"Except tell me I'm wrong. This all traces back to the OZ. It worked in your favor. For me, you know the whole story. Who said that I deserved what happened to me? You were a son to me, Peter. Let me tell you, it indeed breaks my heart what happened with us."

"You're spending so much time talking about me, you've forgotten about your actual one."

"Harry meant the world to me. He still does. You and him always assumed the worst about me. I did what I did to make him a man, someone better than who he was!"

Peter's glare grew much more intense. "Look how that turned out. Look at what's been happening to New York recently. If you weren't such a narcissistic and cruel human being, I'm willing to bet none of this would've happened. Even before the Goblin, you were always a monster."

"Shut the fuck up!" Norman roared. "You little shit, you just want to view everything from your perspective, don't you? You just want to assume I'm the villain. Well, I've got news for you. Yes, I did a lot, but whatever I did, it was purely to benefit the city and my family. Maybe I wasn't perfect, but look at you. It's not hard to see that as Spider-Man, you did everything for yourself. You liked the thrill in pretending you were a hero, and you wanted to believe that you didn't kill your uncle. Maybe you tried to atone for your actions, but that never changed what you did, and it never will. Call me a monster all you want, but I know who I am. And I'm embracing it and getting better all the time. The question is, are you? You can continue blaming me for what happened to Harry, but you played your part as well."

Peter slammed the glass, cracking it a little. Norman laughed, clapping his hands.

"Now, this is just perfect," Norman cackled. "Keep telling yourself you're being rational."

"I'd stop talking unless you want to be broken in two," Peter threatened.

"We both know if you really wanted to do that, you would've done it years ago. As for the recent attacks, all I can do is further convince you that I'm not behind it. Because I'm really not. If you want to keep accusing me, be my guest. If not, then I'd suggest leaving instead of getting emotional with me."

Peter didn't respond, looking down at the ground.

"Or you could at least tell me this. Do you ever wonder how differently your life would've turned out had you not taken that field trip?" Norman asked.

"You know I do."

Peter turned around, walking a few steps before turning back to Norman.

"You didn't deserve him."

"Excuse me?"

"You didn't deserve Harry as a son," Peter repeated. "He was the best of all of us. And we let him down."

Peter's spider-sense started tingling immensely. He looked around in confusion, not able to determine what was going on. Norman's look of rage turned into one of confusion. As Peter tried to deduce the threat, he never could've imagined what happened next.

October 27, 2014

"So, what does the Heisenberg uncertainty principle state?" Mrs. Daphne Boomer asked her AP Chemistry class. "Anyone? People, you have an exam in a week. Let's try and catch up! Robert! You have an idea?"

Bored high school senior Robert Quinn sat back in his chair. "Nope. Sorry."

Mrs. Boomer sighed. "Okay, how 'bout you, Amelia?"

Junior and massive goth girl Amelia Hopkins thought for two seconds before responding, "No clue."

Mrs. Boomer continued to look around. "Paul?"

Senior Paul Patterson shrugged. "Beats me"

Mrs. Boomer sighed. "People, I'm serious about this exam. It's ninety points! And I want to make sure you're all best prepared."

Looking to a familiar fifteen-year-old freshman with combed brown hair and thick glasses, Mrs. Boomer called out, "Peter?"

Looking up from his Honors Geometry homework, Peter Parker eyed his teacher in confusion. "Yeah?"

A few students chuckled, while Mrs. Boomer repeated, "What does the Heisenberg uncertainty principle state?"

Peter sat up. "Oh! It's that the position and velocity of an object can't be measured both exactly at the same time."

Mrs. Boomer smiled in relief. "Great! Anyway-"

The school bell started ringing, prompting the young teacher to look at the clock. "Crap, 3:25. Alright, everyone, only homework is pages 235-240 in the textbook, and to study for the exam!"

The students started packing their things, leaving pretty quickly. As Peter started packing his backpack, he made eye contact with his teacher, who mouthed thank you. Peter nodded in response and finished packing his things, walking out of the classroom.

Making his way through the crowded halls of Midtown Science High School, Peter put his earbuds on and avoided direct eye contact with anyone. His phone started ringing, prompting Peter to pick up.

"Hey, Michaelangelo! How'd school go today?" the familiar voice of his Uncle Ben asked.

"Fine," Peter responded. "Just typical boring classes. Nothing new."

"I gotcha. Just calling to let you know that I know you're planning on studying in the school library, but your aunt's cooking up her famous surprise lasagna. I know you're gonna want to get your hands on that as soon as possible, so you should probably be home by 6:30."

Peter's eyes widened in excitement. "Seriously? Nice! See you then."

"Later, Pete."

Peter hung up the phone and walked over to his locker, opening it. He took out his jacket, only for a football to hit him in the side of his head. Unsurprised, Peter turned to see Bigfoot in the form of a human, smirking.

"Sorry, Parker," Flash Thompson chuckled, walking over and bopping Peter in the back of his head.

Peter sighed. "All good, Flash."

"Anyway, the Halloween football game is this Friday. You better get my good side for the paper. If not, there'll be trouble," Flash declared.

"Uhh, yeah, I quit the school paper. And I'm not going to the game," Peter revealed.

"Why, you gonna be too busy trick-or-treating to have a social life?"

Peter smirked. "No, I quit because I was too busy wondering how you managed to make us lose to Hamilton last weekend."

Peter found himself being pinned to his locker, with a couple students watching nearby.

"So, Parker. You've grown a pair? Better take back what you said or I'm gonna beat your ass," Flash threatened.

"Yo-you know. It's still a wonder how you're even academically eligible."

Peter regretted that quickly as Flash's fist met his stomach, knocking him down.

"Stay down, Parker!" Flash yelled.

"Flash!"

Peter turned to see Liz Allan running over. Flash froze at the sight of his girlfriend.

"Seriously? Again?" Liz sighed. "Flash."

"Dude thinks he's got a smart mouth. Should've shoved the little dumbass in that locker," Flash remarked.

"You haven't done that since the seventh grade," Peter sighed.

"Let's go. Before you act like an idiot again. Sorry, Pete," Liz groaned, holding out her hand.

Peter took Liz's hand, letting her help him up. "All good."

"Watch your ass next time, Parker. And for the record, Hamilton beat us 'cause Kong screwed up his throw. C'mon, babe," Flash said, taking Liz's arm, walking away.

Walking into his house, Peter called out, "I'm home! What's for dinner? Lasagna?!"

In the kitchen, Peter's Aunt May rolled her eyes. "Ben!"

Uncle Ben came down. "What? I knew he'd get excited."

"Well, it's called my surprise lasagna for a reason," Aunt May responded, pulling the warm and steaming lasagna out of the oven. "You both have loved it for centuries."

"Wait, I thought you guys were only ninety! Man, are you old," Peter joked.

Uncle Ben laughed. "That was one of your better ones, Pete."

"Say that again, smarty pants, and you'll be eating your food outside," Aunt May replied, setting the lasagna on the table.

Peter cut himself a piece. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Uncle Ben sat down and cut a piece for himself, sprinkling parmesan cheese on it. "So, Pete. Third month in high school, and you're not having a problem so far. Impressive."

Aunt May smiled as she sat down. "And unsurprising."

"Oh, thanks, but it's no big deal! Besides, it's not like it's completely perfect," Peter said.

"Flash Thompson?" Uncle Ben guessed. "What was it this time?"

"Threw some sarcasm his way. Got a fist to the stomach in return."

Aunt May put her hand to her forehead. "I swear, we've reported that kid five times in the past six years."

Peter shrugged. "I've gotten used to it. I hate the guy, but what else can I do?"

"At least you're standing up for yourself," Uncle Ben acknowledged. "Soon, that punk's gonna know you're not one to mess with."

Peter laughed while Aunt May snorted a little.

"Sorry, Pete," Aunt May quickly apologized.

"No, you're fine," Peter insisted. "I just wonder what goes on in that dude's head. Entitled asshole."

"Language, dear," Aunt May said. "And who knows what's going on with that boy."

"Sorry to change the subject, but isn't that field trip to Oscorp Industries tomorrow?" Uncle Ben asked.

"Yep! I'm all prepared and everything. I've been reading a lot about Oscorp and Norman Osborn. Tomorrow will literally be perfect for me," Peter excitedly responded, scarfing down his lasagna. "It's the most advanced chemical manufacturing company in New York, and what Osborn's doing to enhance the human race is just insane."

"Ah, science. Your father always loved it," Uncle Ben reminisced.

Peter smiled. "Like you haven't said that two-thousand times already."

"Well, I'll admit that I myself was quite a nerd in high school. Like your dad, but nowhere near his level."

"That why you became an engineer?" Peter asked.

"Civil engineering," Uncle Ben corrected. "Urbana Champaign. Class of 1986."

Peter's eyes filled with confusion. "How am I learning all of this just now?"

Uncle Ben took a drink of water. "You never asked. Besides, I figured your inner genius would've figured it all out."

"Well, in that case, can we learn more about Aunt May's dark and twisted history?" Peter suggested.

"I suggest you change the subject before you sleep in the doghouse tonight," Aunt May casually said.

Peter exchanged a humorous look with his uncle. "We don't have a dog."

Aunt May smiled to herself. "So, Peter, anything going on with school?"

"Well, I showed up to a meeting of biology club, but it wasn't really for me. Also, I quit the school paper."

"Why? You've always loved photography!" Uncle Ben pointed out.

"Got repetitive after a while. Too many rules," Peter admitted.

Aunt May sighed. "That great Nikon I got you for Christmas last year better not go to waste."

"I'm sure I could find some other use for it."

"Single file, everyone! And remember, no goofing around!" Mr. Raymond Warren warned as he stood outside the school bus, watching a section of the freshman class get out. "Any of you screw anything up, you're getting a date with detention this weekend."

"If we stay silent the entire trip, is that extra credit for bio?" Flash asked, getting off the bus.

"Nice try, Mr. Thompson. I hope you've started studying for the exam next week. Especially if you want to keep throwing a football," Mr. Warren chuckled, raising an eye at the jock.

A couple students started laughing, while Flash merely shrugged in response. Excited, Peter got off the bus to look at the Oscorp Tower in awe. At that point, a scientist exited the building.

"Good afternoon, Midtown! I'm Mendel Stromm, a genetic engineering scientist for Oscorp, and well, your tour guide for today. Welcome to Oscorp Industries, the leading and most advanced chemical manufacturing corporation in New York City," the scientist greeted.

"Thank you, Dr. Stromm," Mr. Warren said. "You told me this morning that Osborn wasn't going to be able to make it to today's trip, unfortunately."

"Norman had an urgent business meeting to run to, today. Kids, you probably know him as the founder and CEO of Oscorp. Norman Osborn graduated from Columbia University in 1978, and since founding Oscorp Industries with Otto Octavius in 1984, Oscorp has operated 122 major manufacturing and 24 research and development facilities worldwide. Oscorp's prime goal has always been to genetically enhance the human race to their highest capabilities to perform beyond expectations and prepare for any dangerous situations in the future," Mendel explained.

A well-dressed teen yawned. "So… in other words, steroids?"

The class burst out laughing, while Mr. Warren rolled his eyes.

"Ah, the mouth of Norman Osborn's son. Harry Osborn, please say hi," Mendel requested.

Harry shortly held his hand up. "S'up, people? I already go to school with you guys, so-"

"Moving on," Mendel interjected. "Let's go inside and show you all where the magic happens."

Mendel led Mr. Warren and the teenagers into the tower, where Peter instantly wanted to squeal. The lobby alone exhibited advanced technology and prototypes, ranging from holograms to advanced prosthetic designs. Scientists and staff surrounded the place, moving around.

"Here's the main lobby, but this isn't even anywhere near the best part. Allow me to take you all to the genetic testing room," Mendel continued.

Peter's stomach turned with massive excitement as he and his peers were led to a locked door. Mendel unlocked the door with his key card, and the class was led into the genetic testing room. The room was not only filled with bioengineering technology and biomedical samples, but there were full holograms and display screens depicting the various experiments involving a certain enhancer serum. What particularly caught Peter's attention was a glass tanked filled with a few spiders. Peter walked over to take a closer look, as did Liz and a few other students.

"The room pretty much speaks for itself. In pursuing his goal to genetically enhance the human race, Norman has authorized several tests and experiments on various species to perfect the enhancer drug, or as we like to call it, OZ. The serum is showing tremendous progress, and Oscorp is currently in talks for a military contract. Our most successful experiment is also our most recent, as we mutated sixteen spiders with the OZ, creating a genetically modified breed of them," Mendel said.

"There's only fifteen," Liz observed.

A confused look spread across Mendel's face as he walked over to the tank. "Huh? That's odd. Maybe Otto took it away for further study."

"Keep an eye out for it in case, guys," Mr. Warren instructed.

"Thank you, Mr. Warren," Mendel responded as he turned around. "Alright, on to the-"

"Ow!" Peter hissed as a spider bit his hand, before jumping off.

Mr. Warren turned to Peter. "Mr. Parker, are you alright?"

"Y-yeah," Peter lied, turning around to see the spider crawling away. "Actually, on second thought, I have a headache."

Peter clenched his head, which really was starting to hurt. Harry turned to him, asking, "You all good?"

"Not really," Peter groaned.

"Mr. Osborn, do you want to help Peter get some air outside?" Mr. Warren asked. "You have your own key card to get both of you back in, later."

"Sure, sir," Harry agreed as he grabbed Peter's shoulder. "Come with me, buddy."

Peter put his arm around Harry as the latter helped him outside, which proved to be a challenge. Once they were out of the building, Peter stumbled over to a bench.

"Woah, woah, what happened?" Harry asked, sitting next to Peter.

Embarrassed, Peter lied. "Uhh, n-not sure. I was literally just minding my own business, and then, it's like my head is burning. Then, my chest felt like it was gonna explode, a-and-"

Covering his mouth, Peter ran over to the trash can and puked.

"Shit," Harry sighed. "If you want, I can go tell Mr. Warren to call you a ride back to school. Nurse will definitely send you home for the day."

"No, no, I'm good!" Peter quickly exclaimed. "Thanks, but I'm good."

"Is 'good' the keyword for wanting to go back inside and fanboy over the science stuff?"

"Pretty much."

"I get you. I've never really been into that stuff, but it's cool that you're so into it."

Peter sat back on the bench. "Why else would I be the class nerd?"

"Hey, no self-demeaning allowed," Harry warned. "Believe me, if I had your brain, my dad wouldn't be on my ass as much."

"Oh, uh, thanks! I've actually always wanted to meet your dad and Dr. Octavius," Peter admitted. "What your dad's trying to do with the human race is amazing. And as for Octavious, his work on-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Harry interrupted. "Believe me when I say my dad's the biggest hardass you'll ever meet."

"Well, damn."

"Yep."

Peter got up. "I think I'm ready to go back in now."

"You sure? You legit just puked"

"I'm feeling better. Honest."

Harry got up. "Alright. Before we do, though, I assume this is the awkward part where we officially introduce each other. I'm Harry Osborn, as Mendel stressed."

Harry held out his hand, which Peter shook. "Peter Parker, though I'm not sure if you knew that or not."

"I did. We've gone to school together since the second grade. You're not as invisible as you think," Harry said, opening the door with his key card, allowing the two of them to go back inside.

"May, Ben, I'm home!" Peter called as he walked into the house.

Uncle Ben was on his laptop. "Hey, sport, how was the field trip? Your aunt's out getting groceries."

"Oh, it was pretty cool! Yeah, they had a lot of interesting bio things, some cool stuff involving the human race, steroids or something," Peter blurted out.

Uncle Ben had a confused look on. "Huh?"

"You kn-know, I'm gonna go upstairs to take a nap. I'm tired!" Peter yawned as he went upstairs.

"You okay, Peter?"

"Never better!"

Peter walked into his bedroom, closing the door. Dropping his backpack and glasses on the floor, Peter fell on his bed. He looked at the red mark on his hand, groaning.

"Freakin' spider," Peter sighed as he held on to his pillow.

As Peter started to get drowsier, his vision started to fade. Soon, everything turned black.

In his basement, a shirtless MacDonald Gargan was bench pressing a barbell, sweating and grunting, but he was persistent. The basement was filled with training equipment, essentially being a miniature gym. A couple scars from his time in the war were on his chest.

"Mac!"

"Yes, honey?!" Mac shouted in response, lifting up the barbell.

A few seconds later, Mac's wife Carmilla descended to the basement, having an amused grin on her face.

"Why am I not shocked that you're spending all your time down here again?" Carmilla asked, approaching her husband.

"Seems to be the only place I can get peace and quiet around here," Mac casually joked, lifting the barbell.

"Call me loud all you want, but I'm not the snorer," Carmilla countered, placing her hand on the barbell.

Mac put the barbell down and got up, kissing his wife.

"How was the office today?" Mac asked.

Carmilla shrugged. "Not the best, but not the worst."

Mac walked over to a punching bag. "Good for you."

"You do anything other than work out?"

"I cooked and ate a pound of steak. Had a protein shake with it."

Carmilla rolled her eyes. "Not what I meant."

Mac started punching the bag. "Still answered the question."

Carmilla paused for a little before speaking again. "Hey, Mac, you know, I've been thinking. About the experiment. And I know we've already talked about it multiple times, but it's just, I-I-"

"Oh no," Mac groaned. "This talk again."

"I don't want to be the overprotective wife, but I don't see how I'm not allowed to be worried. Think of everything that could go wrong."

Mac continued punching the bag. "Never said you weren't allowed to be worried. But I'd really prefer it if we didn't fight about this again."

"Mac…"

Mac stopped punching the bag and turned around to face his wife. "Look. I know you're scared. But I'm going through with this. And I'm gonna be okay."

"What if you're not?"

"Honey, you know I hate it when you get repetitive."

"Well, you know I hate it when you get stubborn."

"Jesus, I'm not being stubborn!" Mac spat. "You're just being aggravating!"

"You want to spend your night on the couch again?" Carmella threatened.

"Listen, I know it sounds terrifying. But it's Justin Hammer we're talking about. I've read a lot about the project, and he knows what he's doing."

Carmilla sighed. "That doesn't exactly sound like a guarantee to me. I still don't know how you have the stomach to do this."

"Then join the Royal Marines and get back to me," Mac bluntly responded as he started pointing at the scars on his torso. "Get shot at in Afghanistan, constantly lying in a pool of blood wondering, 'was any of this worth it?' Fucking hell, watch one of your buddies accidentally step on a landmine and…"

Mac paused before closing his eyes and sighing.

"Mac-"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Mac apologized.

"No, you're more than fine," Carmilla assured, placing her arms around Mac.

"I lashed out again. You were only getting concerned because-"

"Stop right there, hon. I'm still not in love with the idea of you doing this, but I keep forgetting why you wanted to in the first place," Carmilla said.

"Well, I'm still trying to see it from your perspective as well," Mac admitted. "Luckily, we still have plans to meet with Hammer next week. He'll explain more about Super Scorpion, and why everything will be under control."

"But still, it's just… we-we'll see what he says."

Smiling, Mac kissed his wife, taking her shirt off. The rest followed shortly.

"Peter, get up!"

Peter woke up, quickly hitting his alarm clock, smashing it to pieces.

"Shit!" Peter exclaimed, looking at the fragments and taking out his phone to check the time, which was 8:02. "I was asleep for fourteen hours?!"

"Peter!" Aunt May called out.

"Yeah, I'll be down soon, Aunt May!" Peter yelled as he got up.

Peter picked up his glasses and put them on, only for his vision to turn blurry.

"Huh?"

Peter took them off, and realized that his vision was legitimately perfect.

"Strange," Peter muttered as he took off his shirt to change. "Wh-what the?"

Looking at his mirror, Peter saw that his former scrawny exterior was now a muscular physique that rivalled some of the best jocks at Midtown. A knocking was then heard at the door.

"Peter! Get down before May throws out your blueberry pancakes!" Uncle Ben humorously warned from outside the door.

"Be there soon," Peter replied, flexing in front of the mirror. "Where the hell did this come from?"

After a minute of more self-admiration, Peter changed his clothes and threw on his backpack. Coming down quickly, Peter got to the kitchen and started devouring his pancakes instantly, much to his uncle's amusement.

"Well, someone's hungry," Uncle Ben observed. "Wait, how did you get so… jacked?"

Peter finished his first two pancakes. "Not sure, but I'm feeling good!"

Aunt May's mouth dropped as she noticed Peter's new physique. "Pete, when did you start working out? How'd you get like that overnight? And why aren't you wearing your glasses?"

"Honestly, I feel more than good. I'm great!" Peter excitedly replied, finishing his pancakes and washing it all down with a glass of orange juice. "I'm heading to school."

Peter got up and kissed his bemused aunt on the cheek, walking out of the house.

"I can't tell whether to be extremely excited or extremely concerned," Uncle Ben commented. "I told you he was acting weird when he got home yesterday."

"And I wanted to let him sleep, and look how that turned out," Aunt May started. "Let's think about it. His hyperactivity and confusion, his new abs, you don't think-"

"No, I doubt he's doing drugs or even taking steroids," Uncle Ben insisted. "We raised him to be much better than that. And I trust our boy."

"But can you blame me for being skeptical?"

"Not at all. But deep down, I think we both know Peter wouldn't do something like that."

In a packed subway train, Peter was sitting down, skimming through his phone. Specifically, he was reading more about Oscorp and their work on enhancing the human race with OZ. Years of hard work, several failed experiments, a lot of money, and genetically modified spiders?

Peter recalled Mendel's words in his head. Our most successful experiment is also our most recent, as we mutated sixteen spiders with the OZ, creating a genetically modified breed of them.

"Sick," Peter said to himself as his stop came.

Peter got up and left the train, walking out of the subway station, and onto the street leading up to school. Once he got to the building, something started ringing in Peter's head. It was alerting him… specifically to a basketball accidentally thrown his way.

"Woah!" Peter yelled as he quickly grabbed the basketball with one hand.

"Dude, sick catch!" a student praised, running over.

"Oh, uh, thanks!" Peter said, handing the student the ball back.

It took a few seconds, but the student managed to pry the ball off of Peter's sticky hand.

"You alright?" the student asked.

"Yeah."

The student took the ball and ran back to the basketball court with his friends. At that point, the five-minute warning bell started going off, prompting most of the students to head inside. Overwhelmed, Peter sat on one of the tables to think. First, his broken alarm clock. Then, his new jacked physique. Now, he could sense things coming?

"Goddamn it!" Peter swore as he realized that his fourteen hour nap had prevented him from finishing his homework.

In frustration, he slammed his fist on the table, breaking off a part of it. His eyes widening, Peter got up, while a few students watched in shock. Shaking his head, Peter ran away from the school. He ran the fastest he ever had, making it to a nearby alley in less than two minutes.

"Strength, reflexes, and now, speed?" Peter repeated as he typed that on the notes on his phone.

Once he was done typing, Peter looked up at the wall. He then proceeded to look at his hand, as microscopic barbs started forming on it. Slowly, Peter put his hand on the wall. He put his other one on, and kept moving up. He continued climbing, and once he got to the top, he looked down in utter shock. Peter crawled onto the roof, and grabbed a steel vent pipe, crushing it easily. He looked around, before deciding to celebrate.

"WOOOOO HOOOOOO!"

Peter ran and jumped off the building, landing on another one. Screaming in joy, Peter ran and jumped onto another building. He then jumped onto another one, doing a forward roll this time. He jumped and landed on the next building with more force, plunging his fist into the roof, cracking it. Looking down at Queens from the building, Peter sat from the edge of the roof.

"This is something else."

Disclaimer: Spider-Man and any other Marvel characters are created and owned by Stan Lee and Marvel Comics. I do not have any ownership over them.

Well, here's the first chapter of my Spider-Man story, which'll chronicle his journey from a costumed rookie to one of the most legendary heroes alive. I've written fanfictions before, but this is one I'm extremely excited for in particular.

Thus, I'd massively appreciate it if you supported this, whether it's a like or review. I definitely hope you stick along with me through this story for years to come, as I have a lot planned, and I want to make this Spider-Man journey one that's not only action-packed, exciting, emotional, and dark, but also extremely relatable to all of us and our struggles.

So thank you for reading the first chapter ever of "The Extraordinary Spider-Man," both the first volume and the series as a whole. The second chapter will hopefully be out around next week. Worst case scenario, the week after. Until then, much love.

-redbird12