CENTRAL PARK – 6:00 PM
Central Park, the famous large park in Manhattan, full of people, couples strolling or having picnics, elderly feeding pigeons, people exercising, and many tourists. I never thought I'd get to see views like this, mostly because I never imagined leaving the country. People can say many things about Argentina, but it's fairly peaceful overall—no wars, major attacks, or natural disasters… and I didn't even have the money for a vacation. The last one I had was when we went to Las Toninas, where there's a beach, with my father and younger brother… I wonder how they're doing.
I fly over the place. I know I've said it before, but there are a lot of people. The good thing is, the park is huge, and it seems like people mostly stay on the paths. I'm not sure how much time I have; technically, it should be ten minutes, but it's hard to tell using the series as a reference.
I see areas with lots of trees, some bridges, but none convince me. If I want to last, I need somewhere very hidden and hard to reach.
Has it been… eight minutes? Nine? I need to hurry. I move between the trees and under bridges. There should be some cave or something I can—
I stop at a large stone. Painted with graffiti is the number 333, three X's, and some kind of star. There's a descent, not very deep, with "stairs"—in quotes. Going down, an average person would have to crouch to pass. On the other side, a small clearing surrounded by trees at the front and water at the end of the path. I assume it's the end of a nearby lake. There's trash scattered, but I see several broken pieces of cardboard, a two-meter tarp with many holes, and some cans.
A familiar beep sounds. The watch on my chest flashes red, and my feet touch the ground again. I'm forced to sit down. It's like suddenly putting on a very heavy suit; the biological change and perception from the transformation are abrupt.
It takes me a minute to get used to it. I don't remember this happening to Ben. They say kids are very adaptable—probably why a ten-year-old was fine after transforming into Heatblast for the first time and nearly causing a massive fire.
Looking at what I have in front of me, this should be enough, at least for now. I need to try to look more presentable, I need information, and I doubt they'd let a child who looks more like a starving caveman into a library. I could try entering as an alien… Phantastico seems the best option, but… I think his species was the Ectonurites, and each part of them stores genetic memory. Ben had a lot of trouble with that alien. What was his name? El'Terhor? Curious name for a ghostly alien.
Anyway, I don't want to overuse this transformation, not unless I have no other choice. It might take me a bit longer, but better safe than sorry.
I gather the cans and stack them to one side. I collect the larger cardboard pieces and lay them on the ground, using some stones on the corners so they won't blow away in the wind. What I don't need… well, I leave it by the trash.
The tarp is dirty, and it looks like it's been used for target practice, but it's what I have on hand. I fold it over itself to cover the holes as best I can. My eyelids are heavy; it seems the adrenaline from the chase and my first transformation is wearing off.
My body begins to feel the aftermath of the effort. The cardboard prevents my skin from touching the cold ground, and the tarp shields me from the wind. At least I'm not so cold. I tuck my arm under my head, and my vision slowly darkens as my eyelids fall heavily.
CENTRAL PARK – 11:21 PM
I wake up to the chirping of crickets, the movement of the water, and, of course, the sounds of the city in the background. "The city that never sleeps"—couldn't have a better nickname. Moving the tarp and stretching my scrawny body, I was afraid the night would be colder, but thankfully, the temperature difference isn't too harsh. Now that I think about it, I saw many flowers on my way here. The trees look more alive; I guess it's spring. That's why, even though it's cold, it's not extreme.
I need to make the most of my time. The night is my best ally right now. I look at the water, green with scattered leaves, probably very cold as well…
I observe my body. Even moving is uncomfortable. The dirt acts like a second skin, uncomfortable, cracking every time I move, like dried mud stuck to my body. I probably have some of that… je, another thing to add to my list: get all the vaccines. Who knows what I might have inside me at this point.
Looking at my watch and then at the water… I have an idea.
Stripping off the little "clothing" I have, I quickly enter the water, trying not to give my brain time to register the cold.
"U–uhh… i-it's f-f-freezing as hell."
I act fast, scrubbing my body with my long nails. I submerge myself; I have no brush, no soap or shampoo, but I need to get rid of as much dirt as I can.
After long minutes of cold and scrubbing, I get out of the water as best I can. If anyone saw me, they'd think a zombie just crawled out of the water.
I put my hand on the watch, select the alien I bet everything on, and press it.
Bones creak and stretch. Skin tightens as if it wants to tear from the inside. Every muscle swells, air fills my lungs deeper, wilder, and suddenly my perception changes—I don't "see," at least not conventionally.
"GRRRRRAAuuhhh" — a feeling of savagery fills me, makes me want to roar as loud as I can. Fortunately, I can control it, at least halfway through the roar.
At first, I wanted to be fire, but if I want to go unnoticed, it's better not to be literally a beacon in a forest.
I start shaking myself, like a dog would. It's fun. I feel very energetic, like springs are in my feet, ready to launch me.
The world feels incredible. Even though I can't see, I can perceive everything through smell, hearing, touch. I can smell it all, feel even the smallest vibration. It feels so familiar. Not even the city's background noise bothers me. I focus my ears so the loud horns and screams won't hurt me.
Now practically dry, I feel better. I can't help but spin like a dog chasing its tail, little jumps… maybe a small outing won't hurt… to stretch my legs a bit. I can sense almost everything; it's nearly impossible to see me, and if someone does, they'll mistake me for a dog… a very large… orange dog.
I leap onto a nearby tree, my claws digging in, allowing me to climb without trouble until I reach the top of my refuge. I leap to the ground; my paws hit the grass, and I explode with fury.
I start running at full speed, dodging some pedestrians and weird park-goers… seriously, couples, I get that you want to spice things up but… really?
The wind in my fur feels amazing. I can't help sticking out my tongue like a dog sticking its head out of a car window. Sometimes I jump to the trees, hopping between the canopies. Could I take the Chunin exam? I'd embarrass those ninjas.
I stop on a branch. My heart is racing, but not because I'm tired… no… I smell something.
The air changes. Something strange fills my nose, a thick, wet smell… like sewers and rotten scales. I feel it creep through my nostrils before I can think: a strong trail of reptile mixed with old blood and chemicals. My body reacts instinctively; the hairs on my neck stand, my fangs clench, and a low growl escapes my chest. I can't see it yet, but I know. It's here.
My nostrils flare: a floral perfume, with notes of jasmine and vanilla, so human, so alive, so full of fear it cuts through the reptilian stench. It had dragged her here… and its trail is fresh.
I don't want to, but… my instincts are stronger, and I can't help but follow the trail. This is my territory, and I won't let that thing do whatever it wants here—not without crossing paths with me first. Also, it has someone with it, a woman. Normally, I wouldn't risk this, but the transformation fills me with confidence. I know I can handle it, so I will.
I follow the trail. The smell grows stronger, guiding me to… shit, I know there's a sign ahead. The wind hits its structure, but I… can't read it.
It's like a house… very large, with multiple doors at what I assume is the entrance, and a kind of large dome on the roof. Two of the doors are destroyed; touching the debris on the ground… glass.
I move quietly and stealthily. There are several structures; it looks like some kind of museum or something.
I stay on the opposite side of the wind. I don't want it to detect me. As I cross through destroyed sections, I feel cold, I smell… medicine, chemicals… similar to a hospital… a lab.
She was tied up, trembling on the cold table, vials and tubes bubbling around her, a sharp chemical smell mixed with humidity and rot.
"Please…" she said, her voice breaking. "Stop! You don't have to do this! Please… we can find another way, someone can help us."
The Lizard looked at her, eyes shining through wet green scales. His voice was a growl vibrating in his chest, more animal than human.
"Help…!" she repeated, in a ferocious hiss. "You don't understand… you can't comprehend. This is what you need. I will open your eyes. I will show you what we are."
"But you're not like this!" she insisted, trying to stay calm as sweat ran down her back. "I love you, and I know this isn't you… please!"
The Lizard leaned toward her, moving like a predator sniffing prey. His claws tapped the table as he mixed chemicals.
"Love…?" he growled, a mix of mockery and ferocity. "What I feel for you cannot be measured like humans. I will make you like me… so you see. So you understand. So your mind opens to what humanity refuses to accept."
She swallowed, tears falling, heart racing.
"No! You don't have to…! Curt… I, I'm—"
"You will close your eyes to the human world!" hissed the Lizard, raising a bubbling green vial. "And then you will be like me!"
The Lizard sniffed the air; his eyes opened wide. He left the vial sealed on the nearest table, every scale on his body vibrating with alertness. He turned his head, hissing, sniffing every corner of the tunnel, every shadow.
It was too late.
I shot out of the darkness like lightning, jaws open, claws ready. No thought, no strategy… just instinct. Every muscle burned, every fiber screamed rage. I lunged at him like a hurricane, air whistling around my claws.
We collided with a dull crash, sending him away from the woman tied to the table. His fangs tried to bite me, but I twisted, scratching his shoulders, drawing a deep roar from his chest. Every strike was a heartbeat of pure violence: I pushed, knocked him down, shook him like nothing, tearing chunks of flesh and scales.
The room vibrated with our roars and growls. His tail thrashed; I caught it between my jaws, feeling each scale beneath. Metal and glass shattered beneath us; vials exploded in bursts of green, bubbling liquid.
No mercy. Every time he tried to rise, I knocked him down, tearing a growl of surprise from his chest. I pressed him against the floor, claws sinking into his back while my jaws closed just above his neck, a reminder that I dominated the fight.
His roar echoed, fierce and animal, but I wasn't going to back down. Every stride, every strike, every bite was raw, unleashed strength. I dragged him across the floor, slammed him against walls; his body bounced like a ragdoll.
The lab was total chaos: broken glass, green liquid, reptilian screams, flesh being torn. My senses caught every sound, every smell… the Lizard's fear, the adrenaline of battle, and the only thing that mattered was destroying him, tearing him apart, making him feel what he inflicted on his victims.
Finally, panting, covered in scratches and blood, I pushed him against the back wall. His eyes shone with fury and terror.
I had him beneath me, feeling every fiber of his scaly body against my claws, his growls mixing with mine. My jaws closed over his shoulder, ripping off an arm with a wet crack that filled me with satisfaction.
And then something changed.
A violent tug at my sides, followed by a dull thud against the wall. My paws slipped, air cutting into my lungs, and a strange, metallic, familiar scent filled my nostrils. Too late, I realized: they weren't wires or the Lizard's traps… elastic bands had trapped me and thrown me with force.
I staggered, panting, my senses searching for prey and enemy… and then I saw him.
A young man, physically fit, suspended from the ceiling, had arrived just in time to come between my claws and the victim.
The Lizard growled, rising reluctantly, eyes fixed on me, mixing terror and anger. I was breathing hard, rage still coursing through every muscle. I wanted to strike him, tear him apart, destroy him, but now something separated us: Spider-Man.
The tension was unbearable. My body trembled with frustration, every fiber screamed to leap, to finish him, but the web-slinger had changed the playing field. I roared in impotent rage, claws scratching the ground, trembling with pure fury and frustration at being pulled from my prey at the critical moment. I wasn't going to kill him; I'm aware of the Lizard's great stamina and regeneration, but I wanted to make sure he felt everything he inflicted on his victims.
"Ah, fantastic… and this fang hurricane comes included with the rescue package, or do I have to pay extra? Because I left the ridiculously oversized dog muzzle at home."
Spider-Man is in for a long night.
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Well folks, that's all for today. Our protagonist, in the middle of his jog, seems to have run into a cold-blooded beast along the way.
And, for his bad luck, there can only be one Beast in the park.
Give it a like or whatever, as always, I'll be happy to read any suggestions or comments. Remember that the images will be added in the comments.
A special thanks to DaoistcmrqRk (son of a… really, couldn't you pick a simpler name?) and Jairerwesker for their support with the power stones :)
See you next time.