Spider-Man Fan Fiction Finale 

Morbius took two threatening steps forward. “You ruined everything!”

Spider-Man wasn’t sure what to do. After all, he hadn’t done anything to interfere with whatever procedure  Morbius had just done. The rage on the vampire’s face told him that it didn’t matter. Failure had angered him to the point where he wasn’t thinking rationally.

“I didn’t,” Spider-Man tried.

Morbius interrupted him with a snarl as he hurled a table at Spider-Man.

Normally, having a table thrown at him wasn’t something that he would be afraid of. He’d been hit by plenty of harder objects. This table was covered in chemical filled glass containers. Without knowing what was in those containers, or what would happen if the chemicals inside of them mixed, Spider-Man wanted no part of what was coming his way.

Peter leapt away nimbly, barely making it out of the way. He shot two streams of his web at Morbius. From previous experience, he knew that his webbing wouldn’t hold the vampire indefinitely. All it needed to do was slow him down, though. The strands did their job and tangled Morbius up enough that he had to stop to free himself from them.

His opportunity upon him, Spider-Man jumped forward and, using his momentum, landed a solid punch in the middle of Morbius’ chest. The vampire flew backwards until he crashed into the machine he had just been using. A small crack appeared in the glass wall of the chamber, but, other than that, the setup remained intact. Still, it was enough to infuriate its builder even more.

“If you have broken my machine,” Morbius hissed, “I will drain every last drop of blood from your veins before the night is through.”

The vampire lunged at Spider-Man clumsily. Peter jumped over him and grabbed ahold of the ceiling. Turning his head as his opponent passed underneath him, he saw that he was right to be afraid of what would happen if the chemicals mixed. At the base of the wall the table hit, smoke was starting to billow. A second later, a small fire appeared. Upon seeing the flames, Morbius became even angrier.

“I will not let you destroy what I’ve built here, Spider-Man!”

He wanted to point out that it had been Morbius who had thrown the chemicals, but he knew that it wouldn’t make a difference. Instead, he shot more webbing at his opponent. This time, the vampire mimicked Spider-Man’s earlier move and jumped over it. Morbius flew forward and crashed into Peter as he hung from the ceiling.

The two combatants hit the floor hard and began wrestling around. All of Morbius’ energy was put into trying to get his fangs onto Peter’s neck. All of Spider-Man’s energy was spent making sure he didn’t.

Morbius managed to get on top of him. Spider-Man was using both hands to keep the fangs at bay. The vampire took his hands and began trying to gouge the hero’s eyes through the mask. With his strength, and mask, starting to give out, Peter knew it was time to take action. He let go of Morbius’ head and quickly twisted to the side.

With nothing holding him back now, Morbius’ face shot down with all of his strength. After Spider-Man had moved out of the way, there was nothing between him and the ground. His face hit the ground with a hard slap. If the vampire had a nose, it would’ve broken. It was still enough to temporarily knock the sense out of him, though.

Knowing he had to strike before he recovered, Spider-Man picked the vampire up and hurled him into the machine with all of his might. A loud crash accompanied the sound of breaking glass as Morbius broke through the glass chamber. Sparks shot out of various electrical wires. Power to the machine flickered briefly before going out altogether. Peter smiled. It worked just as he had hoped. In that one move, he had both destroyed the machine and hurt Morbius.

He wanted to go to the chamber and make sure that the vampire was down for the count, but the acrid smoke from the chemical fire began burning his nostrils. Suddenly, his spider sense began going off. Using his webs, he got out of the room as quickly as possible. When he was about fifty yards back down the sewer line, the whole room exploded in a bright white fireball. The heat pouring off of it assaulted his lungs as the shockwave blasted the air out of him.

A couple of minutes went by as Spider-Man just laid there. His breathing became regular again and he lifted himself up off the ground. Slowly, he made his way back to the room’s entrance. He didn’t want to stay long. After all, the fumes of the chemicals could be toxic, but he needed to check on Morbius.

Across the room, now nothing more than one big pile of debris, Michael Morbius was exactly where he was when Peter left. Now he was nothing but a burnt husk, however. Without anything else to do down here, Spider-Man sped away from the scene.

When he was far enough away, he changed out of his costume and began walking down the street back to his home. Questions hounded every one of his steps. What had Morbius really been doing? What caused the explosion: the chemical fire or the sparks from the machine he had broken. Was there anything he could’ve done differently to prevent Morbius’ death?

He didn’t have the answers. All he knew was that he had taken a killer off of the streets and prevented them from possibly making themselves more powerful.

It wasn’t much, but it was all he had.

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