Chereads / MARVEL -BLACK SPIDERMAN / Chapter 8 - Ch-8:How am i not a beast?

Chapter 8 - Ch-8:How am i not a beast?

The Hand of Hell's Kitchen is the American branch of the Hand, a multinational organization involved in illegal activities such as drug trafficking and smuggling. Behind the scenes, they also conduct human experiments.

Peter left the file on the table, sat in the manager's chair, and fell into deep thought. The document introduced the Hand's belief in the ancient demon "Beast," a being capable of resurrecting the dead and wielding incredible power. The Hand sought to summon this "Beast."

They used special means to embed parts of the "Beast" into children, turning them into containers for its power. These children would be "harvested" once the "seeds" inside them sprouted and became powerful warriors. Of course, this came with great risk. Most children couldn't survive the pain. Some died directly, while others went berserk, unable to bear the power, and eventually died from exhaustion.

The "Gray Wolf Boy" lying on the ground had been one of the test subjects for this process. Unable to withstand the power, he had gone on a rampage, killing the Hand members who couldn't control him. The snake farmer was killed by his own snake—an ironic twist that Peter found almost fitting.

After a moment of silence for the tragic "Wolf Boy," Peter stood up. The wind howling outside became even colder. He walked to the safe, took out all the money inside, and stuffed it into a bag he found nearby. After packing the bag, he lit the document with a lighter and threw it onto the curtains and other flammable parts of the room. The fire spread quickly, fueled by the night wind.

"Call the fire trucks, and make sure they hurry! Evacuate the surrounding area immediately," ordered New York Police Chief George Stacey as he arrived on the scene. Fortunately, no residential buildings were nearby, so the fire wouldn't spread far. Still, George frowned at the heat from the flames and pressed his aching temples.

Recently, a group of suspected drug traffickers had been arrested in an operation against the Hand. In retaliation, the Hand had targeted his daughter, Gwen. Although she was unharmed, the incident left him shaken and angry. Since then, more strange events had followed. First, the gangsters who attempted to kidnap Gwen were found dead in an alley. Now tonight, someone had set fire to the Hand's Hell's Kitchen headquarters.

"Who made the call?" George asked one of his officers.

"We're not sure. The call came from a public phone."

Nodding, George pondered the situation. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was behind all of this, watching everything unfold. His eyes drifted toward the distant skyline, where Peter stood on the rooftop of an office building, watching the fire below. He had made the call to the police, knowing that the blaze would destroy most of the evidence.

Peter felt the cool night air and extended his hand, watching as a layer of black exoskeleton covered his arm. The alien material pulsed with violent energy, and he could feel its strength, as if his arm could endure any damage. The exoskeleton had fused with his body. Was he becoming more alien than human?

He lowered his arm and pulled out his phone. Staring at his reflection on the screen, his thoughts grew darker. Children parasitized by the "Beast" would either grow into powerful warriors or die as the "Beast" devoured them from within. Peter wondered if he was becoming such a container. Would the embryo inside him eventually emerge, killing him in the process? Or would he survive, only to release something even more deadly than the "Beast"?

Shoving the phone back into his pocket, Peter glanced one last time at the burning building before turning away from the rooftop.

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**The next morning.**

In Parker's house, Uncle Ben sat on the sofa reading the newspaper. "There was a fire in Hell's Kitchen last night," he remarked to Aunt May and Peter.

Aunt May, preparing a fruit salad, frowned. "I hope no one was hurt. I used to volunteer there. The neighborhood may have its problems, but there are still good people."

"That was for the homeless rescue organization, right?" Uncle Ben asked, setting the newspaper down. "The FEAST organization?"

"Yes," Aunt May confirmed, "Helping those homeless people meant the world to me."

They continued their conversation, unaware that Peter had been the one responsible for the fire.

"Peter? Would you like some salad?" Aunt May asked, offering him the dish.

"No, thank you," Peter replied, raising his head. "I've already eaten."

"You barely touched your food," Aunt May said with concern. "You're growing and can't afford to be picky."

Peter smiled slightly and walked over to take the salad. "Maybe I'll try a little."

As he chewed slowly, his mind wandered back to the files he'd read about New York Presbyterian Hospital. A name had caught his attention: Dr. Stephen Strange.

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