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It wasn’t like Deadpool wanted Peter to turn into a crazy maniac villain. His intentions weren’t to turn Spiderman into a blood lust murderer.
But yet, here Deadpool is. Following the river of blood and detached limbs to find his maniac best friend. Talk about whoopsie.
His friendship with Peter was near painful. The constant lack and inability to blow off some steam with katanas and guns, the inappropriate jokes had to subside, and not even sex. Peter’s a good kid, a fun kid, easy to tease. But honestly, it was downright exhausting dealing with his whiny hero bullshit.
So the solution? Get something from a guy that’s a friend of a guy’s third cousin’s mom. A wannabe villain, as rumored, with a brain in his head and experiments in his making. One, a prototype, was a serum that caused the person injected to loose their cool and become angrier easier. Meant for a certain Bruce Banner, but Spiderman will do.
The label on the syringe told of side effects and warnings, and what the thing even did. And that was in the trash long before Deadpool even got out of the building he retrieved it from. Honestly? The only thing he needed to know was what it did and when it wore off.
And upon sneaking up on Spiderman to stick the thing inside of the kid, his damn spidey-senses caused the fool to turn around and the syringe to be stuck in the middle of his chest. But, when in doubt, don’t pull out! And all the red fluid was pumped nearly straight into the heart of Spiderman before he could react.
“Deadpool!”
Deadpool proceeded to quickly pull the syringe out of the kid’s chest and toss it, the loud sound of glass shattering very obvious. “Yes?”
“What the fuck was that?” Spiderman said slowly and dangerously.
“Oh, just something to loosen you up.”
“Deadpool, seriously.”
“Seriously!”
“What’s it supposed to DO? Is it going to KILL me?”
“No, it’s a kind of serum drug thingy that makes you more aggressive n’ junk. So I don’t have to watch my step around you. So you can loosen up and have some Deadpool fun!” Deadpool threw his hands up in the air and a wide, shit eating grin tugged at his mask.
Spiderman sighed and looked down at his chest, rubbing it slightly. “Well, how long does it take for the effects to kick in?”
“Not too long.”
“I don’t feel anything. I don’t trust this, but I kind of trust you, Wade. If anything happens you’re getting your ass kicked, I have connections.” Spiderman pointed menacingly at Wade, who replied with an exaggerated eye roll.
“Oh, I know you do. It’s a shame you don’t feel anything yet. How long should this take?” Deadpool searched around for the broken needle he tossed but gave up five seconds in with a shrug.
“Whatever. Hey, my patrol is done for the night anyway. I’m headin’ home.”
“B-but it hasn’t started working yet!”
“Maybe when I wake up. Anyway, it might not work. After all, I don’t have normal human blood.” Spiderman smiled proudly.
“Wow. You’re so special. I wish I could have spider blood just like you!” Sarcasm nearly dripped from the sentence.
“I know you do. Anyway, gotta run! See ya’ pooley!” And with that, Spiderman swung off. Damnit. He hated being called pooley.
Wow, how disappointing and embarrassing. Not only did he literally stab Spidey in the heart, he didn’t even get to see the effects begin. And the thing was probably a blow off anyway, considering it was a prototype. Even still, he only got to see Peter for a good five minutes before the kid head home.
But honestly, Peter took the whole being ‘stabbed in the heart with a syringe filled with a mysterious liquid’ thing pretty well. And that was some source of accomplishment.
[Maybe you should have done it sneaky-like.]
“Whatever, at least it got done.”
Deadpool just sighed, feeling the sudden pressure of the need to sleep against his eyes. So, in turn, he simply hopped off of the small apartment building him and spidey shared for five minutes and strolled home to his own shitty, sad looking apartment.
And upon arriving, he skipped the shower and ripped off the suit, but kept the mask on. And with a grunt, flopped helplessly onto his overly squeaky bed and instantly fell asleep.
==
Wade’s eyes snapped open to the familiar click of a pistol cocking. His eyes focused to the end of the barrel of a pistol, his pistol specifically (he’d know the sound anywhere), and then focused on its carrier that happened to be straddling his hips.
An unmasked Spiderman leaned back, his arm out full length, staring intently at the gun in his hand with focus and curiosity. His lips were pulled into a small frown as he furrowed his brow. Of course, he was holding the gun with one hand and cocked sideways.
“Uh, heya Petey. Whatcha got there?”
He turned the gun cautiously, cocking his wrist curiously. His eyes never left the gun, as if studying it. “I found your weapon stash. I thought I told you to throw all that shit away, I thought you were done with the Mercenary business.” His studious eyes flicked from the gun towards Wade and back again.
“Oh and nice Spiderman boxers.”
Wade smiled, the mask pulling taught over his lips. Honestly, he never expected Peter to come in and straddle him with a gun in his hands, hence the fact that he was only in his boxers and mask. So, technically, it was the first time Peter had seen his skin.
He’s extremely self-conscious about the scarring; causing the fact that he literally lives in his suit. But was still extremely thankful for the fact Peter hadn’t said anything (so far) and that he didn’t seem the least bit disturbed by it.
“Thanks. And I gotta pay the bills somehow Petey. You can’t just make me quit my job.”
Peter adverted his eyes to stare at Wade, now permanently, as he took the gun away from the man’s face and to pull it close to his own. He flexed his fingers against the handle of the gun before smirking deviously.
He lashed out, and grabbed Wade by the ends of the mask and, instead of pulling it off, he tugged down harshly. He proceeded to press the cold barrel of the pistol against Wade’s chest with force.
All the while he began to grind.
Fear crawled up Deadpool’s spin, not by the gun pressed against his chest, mainly because Peter wouldn’t dare and he would heal just fine, but because of the firm grip the boy had on his mask. This caused Wade’s heart to pump fast and dramatic, making his boner get up quicker than he intended.
The spidey-suit that stretched mercilessly across Peter’s ass, which got to work with grinding and rolling, didn’t really help Wade’s case either. And the way everything was positioned made it just as easy for Peter to hit both of their sweet turn-on spots.
And, fearfully, once Peter hit his sweet spot within the midst of grinding, his grip on the mask got tighter and the gun was pressed harder. But eventually it was pulled away slightly as he tilted his head back and fluttered his eyes closed. A groaned escaped his partially open lips, as he pressed and grind harder.
What an advantage.
In the midst of Peter’s pleasurable weakness, Wade grabbed Peter’s wrists and forcefully flipped him over. The gun was knocked from his hands, clattering onto the floor loudly, and with Wade now on top of Peter, advantages were his.
He had situated himself between Peter’s legs, to press and rub menacingly. He would have released his grip on Peter’s wrists by now, but the look the boy was giving him was far from loving.
His eyes were low and dark, eyebrows furrowed and teeth barred, like a mad dog waiting for his abusive owner to get closer. His hot panting and low growls didn’t exactly, help, but the way he was grinding rougher than Wade was, was an obvious sign.
And quickly, boxers and super suit were off. As tight as Peter’s costume was, and the amount of effort it took for him to get it on and off, Wade had no problem.
And as quickly as it had started, Wade had once again found Peter underneath him. But this time Peter faced the bedpost, bare ass grinding against the tortured erection of Wade’s.
Wade gripped the boy’s ass with fingernails. His hands traveled against the smooth butt of one Spiderman, ready to get things started, before he heard a heated and low grumble or growl of words come from Peter.
Deadpool leaned in close, muscle and toned stomach pressing against Peter’s smooth back, lending an ear to hear what Peter had said before.
“Rough.”
Deadpool blinked. “Rough?”
“Rough.”
He blinked once more. Peter seemed like the ‘love me tender’ kind of guy, not the kind of guy with bite marks and hickeys and things. And it matters; anyway, everybody has a different scale of rough.
“Uh, how rough?”
“Goddammit, Wade! Bite me, push me, hit me, HURT me!”
Deadpool leaned up once again, scratching his masked head. Huh. He’s had sex like this before, not in a long time however. But it’s not a usual thing. And, although Peter was being a bit vague, the desperation and flustered anger in the boy’s voice made it pretty clear what he wanted.
So, without further ado, Wade did exactly what he wanted.
With one strong, big hand, Wade took the side of Peter’s face and pushed him roughly into the pillow. With the other hand, he pulled up his mask to his nose, allowing his mouth to be bare, and sucked his fingers.
Spit counted as lube right?
Wade growled menacingly, just for Peter’s pleasure, and instantly stuck two saliva-ridden fingers in with force. He leaned forward, as he began to pump his hand, and pressed his stomach against the boys back. He pulled his hand away from his face, and to grab the copper brown hair roughly by the roots.
And by the way Peter growled and groaned roughly, and how he bucked his hips backwards into Wade’s palm, Wade was obviously doing something right.
He pulled at Peter’s hair, roughly bringing his head backwards to expose his neck and parts of his chest and collarbone. In for the kill. Wade sunk his teeth into the muscle connecting Peter’s neck to his shoulders, sucking and nibbling roughly.
And, when Peter growled for more, Wade did just that. Sinking his teeth in farther and adding, roughly, another figure along to the equation. And the more Peter growled for Wade to go up another level, the more Wade hesitated.
And by the time Peter was near his pleasure climax when it came to the biting, skin had been broken and the sweet bruise of a hickey bloomed harshly. Eventually he pulled back, not wanting to hurt the kid even more (even when Peter was begging for more, even when the metallic taste of blood spilled into Wade’s mouth).
And finally, Wade was ready to enter. Jesus foreplay takes too long.
But, without warning, Peter had flipped Deadpool to have him laying down and straddled. Tables have turned.
And before Deadpool could comprehend, Peter was already taking him fully.
A gasp harshly escaped Wade’s lips as Peter bounced roughly and ominously, his rough growls and defensive characteristics suddenly turning to putty as he angled his hips so that Wade would hit the lovely bundle of nerves that caused Peter’s rising climax to go wild.
And Wade gripped Peter’s hips roughly, trying to tame him by guiding him with rough forceful hands, but only succeeded in holding Peter’s hips as he bounced randomly and forcefully, Wade too, is putty and farm from control
Wade eyeballed the dribbling sweat that ran streaks down Peter’s muscular and bouncy body. He groaned at the drops of blood that slowly spilled out of Peter’s bite wounds running down the toned boy’s neck and pecks, he watched as the sweat mixed in and caused it to drip.
And as the small stream of blood ran down along Peter’s buffed stomach and folded and creased and dropped faster because of his maniac rhythms, Wade gave in once that bead of crimson dropped off Peter’s V-line and onto his own skin.
The feeling of cold sweat and warm blood, even a bead, prickling his skin just sent him into over drive.
And whilst pulling out, quickly taking him and Peter both within one hand and rubbing roughly and furiously, Peter came first and soon after Wade.
Wade groaned, annoyed, at the spunk covering him, but still leaned his head back against his pillow and panted, pulling his mask down over his mouth.
“Wow, Pete, I didn’t know-“
Before he could finish his sentence Peter had gotten up without a word, and as Wade watched him leave, with no reply to his calls, he suddenly heard the abrupt squeak of the shower turning on in his bathroom.
[Why is he taking the shower when we’re the one with the jizz all over us?]
“I don’t know. Maybe he kept the door unlocked so we could wipe down or something.”
[Maybe. Go check.]
“Okay.” Wade gotten up, careful not to get any of the spunk on his (somewhat) clean sheets, making his way towards the bathroom, careful of the slow drips coming off of his chest.
“Disgusting.”
[Wonder why he decided to bang us. He’s been declining sex for a year now.]
“I don’t know?” Wade reached the bathroom, the sound of white noise and steam streaming from the small crack in the door, meaning it was open and unlocked. He slowly entered, hesitating before saying something.
“Petey?”
“Hm?” The response was more of a growl.
“Can I join you?”
“Mmmhmmm.”
“I have to take my mask off, you know that right?”
“So?”
Wade gulped; glad the mirror was fogged once he took off his mask, the world suddenly becoming a little clearer. Already naked, the only thing that was taking him so long was the mental prepping.
But, not exactly wanting to keep Peter waiting, Wade sucked in a breath and removed the curtain momentarily to step on in. He wasn’t soaked instantly, considering Peter stood directly in the spray of water.
His hair was soaked and smooth, plastered to his face. His once copper brown was now dark and slick. Despite the rough sex they had seconds ago, his face was still hard and perplexed.
And when Peter’s laid eyes on Deadpool’s exposed face, nothing change. His facial expression, the hard fire in his eyes, the glower and the way his lips puckered into a near snarl. Wade was near hesitant towards whether this was a good thing, or not.
And, honestly, it made Wade uncomfortable. Being Peter could now stare at his eyes and glare, penetrate, expose. It made Wade a nearly whimpering mess, on the inside. And despite Wade’s astounding five inches height difference, he felt extremely intimidated by Peter, at the moment.
And in this moment, even with the way Wade towered over Peter, it was Peter who attacked furiously.
The way Wade slammed against the tiled shower walls, it was difficult to keep from slipping on the wet tile beneath his feet as Peter ravished him with lips and teeth.
And although Peter’s hands roamed furiously, Wade’s hands stayed lovingly on his hips.
And to Peter’s major disappointment, the way he clawed against Wade’s skin and the blooming bruises and teeth marks that he wanted to leave were healed just as quick as they got there.
He leaned back with a grunt of disgust, observing the scarred skin as a red and purple hickey disappeared. His eyes flicked menacingly upwards, towards Wades smug face. And the fact that Peter couldn’t mark him, mark what’s his, infuriated him.
He wanted to hurt Wade as much as Wade hurt him not nearly ten minutes ago. And this inability, inability to even give him a few love scratches and marking bruises, caused his blood to boil. Caused his mind to think irrational thoughts, thinking the bruises and bite marks weren’t enough.
He wanted to HURT Wade. And not the rough sex kind of hurt, the go for the throat kind of hurt.
Wade frowned at Peter’s reaction towards, what he could imagine, his healing factor. But, what came out of Peter’s mouth made him nearly jump in surprise.
“Your apartment is really clean.” He said it low, but calmly and smooth.
Wade blinked. “U-Uh. Thanks? I hired a maid a long time ago. Not really for the cleanup.” Wade winked and Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes and stumbling out of the shower before grabbing a towel.
Wade frowned and proceeded to get a little soap on his body and rinse off before following Peter, not really minding to dry down but to instead simply wrap a towel around his waist.
He followed the drips to his bedroom, opening the door slowly to spot a passed out Peter on his bed. He sighed and pulled off his towel, wiped his body down, and went to go retrieve his mask from the bathroom.
[Awww he’s sleeping! We should try that sleep kink stuff we saw on the internet that one time, remember, like when she was asleep he’d-]
“I know what you’re talking about. You know, typically I would, but I have a feeling Petey isn’t feeling to be messed with tonight.”
[We have to do it sometime!!]
Wade ignored the whining in his head and pulled on his mask, and clambering out of the bathroom naked and damp, leaving the towel behind. He entered his room and fell right next to Peter, who was also naked and damp but very very unconscious.
Deadpool groaned as the voice whined at him again, praying for sleep as he turned and pressed his damp back against Peter’s.
Eventually he fell asleep along with Peter, their rhythmic hums becoming in sync.
==
Deadpool awoke, eyes focusing and fluttering as he stretched. His muscles grow taught, and he groaned and yawned at the same time as tense muscles stretched and relaxed. And upon spreading his entire being across his bed, he noticed a certain figure gone.
“Huh.”
Deadpool got up, eventually; pulling on Spidey boxers before checking the clock to notice it was nearly 3:00 pm.
[He’s probably gone by now.]
“Probably. “ He sighed as he made way towards his weaponry room. Originally, it was made to be a study or a guest bedroom for normal people but. Ya’ know. Deadpool isn’t exactly your average person.
It’s a good thing Peter left anyway; today he had some important mission that might take him a little while an-
Deadpool stopped short in his tracks. The entire room, usually filled with guns and knives and swords (oh, my!) and all sorts of things was… Empty?
The only thing left was a pocketknife. Which was stuck through a note and stabbed onto the wooden workbench that kept his heavier stuff. Wade approached it cautiously, before ripping it out from the knife’s blade.
“Wade-
I found the letter for your mission you were going to do this morning. I decided to take it on myself. Had to borrow some things. I’ll be back at some point, don’t worry.
-Spidey”
Wade stared at the note. Then re-read it. Then looked up and blinked.
[I think that serum you gave him worked.]
In an awe-hushed breath, Deadpool replied. “Yeah.”
Deadpool suddenly tossed the note over his shoulder and, turning on his heel, proceeded to make way towards his couch.
[What are you doing?]
“Relaxing! Spidey’s got this.”
[You can’t let him do that all by himself!]
“What? If I can, he can. We’re like, basically twins. Anyways, I know the capability of that red stuff. He’ll be fine.”
[He doesn’t have any major healing factors like we do! You’ve read the case; you know how menacing even the bodyguards are! One shot to the chest and Spidey’s done, Peter’s gone! Anyways, it’d totally ruin his reputation, he’s not supposed to kill!]
Deadpool cross his legs and rubbed his chin, contemplating on whether or not he should go after Spiderman.
[And if he completes it he’ll be taking our bounty money.]
“WE’VE GOT TO FIND SPIDERMAN!”
Wade stood up abruptly from his relaxed position, running to grab his suit.
==
Deadpool stood in his weaponry room, twirling the pocketknife Peter had left for him. He looked curious as he searched the nearly empty room. The usual katana holsters on his back, the thigh and ankle straps, the utility belt, were gone. Instead, he had the regular ol’ Deadpool suit with no weaponry attached.
He felt bare and naked.
“The bastard literally, only left me a goddamn pocket knife. How could he carry all my shit anyway? He’s like a fucking twig.”
[He took our satchel.]
“Fuck. We can’t go in there with a pocket knife, maybe I could-“
[We have a safe with a pistol in it remember?]
Deadpool gasped with glee. “Ooooh, yeah!”
==
Spiderman crouched upon a building, blocks away, but in clear view, of his target. It was typical, really. A factory no longer in use, but not abandoned. His target? Some big wig he forgot the name of already who ran the damn place.
Apparently he was some big deal considering it set the typical scene of bodyguards and sub-machine guns everywhere.
Spiderman’s eyes narrowed menacingly as he stood slowly to observe his target further. The weaponry strapped to his back held him down, he decided.
So, he began to strip away all the extras he decided he didn’t need.
The grenades, sub-machine guns, sniper, big hammer thing, some type of knife Peter didn’t recognize, a whole bunch of weapons he didn’t recognize, and the butterfly knives.
And with that Spiderman was set, his Spidey costume decked with the signature Deadpool simple design. Katana holsters strapping across his chest (with a Spider symbol in the middle for taste), two Katana handles poking menacingly from his back. A thigh holster for a silenced pistol, an ankle holster that held a wicked Avengers-type KA-BAR, and the utility belt with a Spider decorating the front as well.
Might as well let those poor bastards know who’s killing them. AKA- not Deadpool.
But ever still, even with the light load, swinging between buildings with complete ease and agility was difficult. The Katanas hit each other menacingly and the weaponry strapped to either leg cut off his swing quite a bit. Surprisingly the belt fit just fine.
Even with the Katanas lightly hitting each other, Spiderman once again sat crouched and ready to pounce on the closest building towards the front entrance. So, nearly one hundred feet away from the two main guards that stood nonchalantly.
And with careful and practiced aim, twin webs shot from the dark and wrapped itself around the two’s throats. It was tight, but not enough to constrict breathing. And before they could react, however, Spidey from one hundred feet away grabbed the webs emitting from his wrists, wrapped them around his hands, pulled forward, twisted and turned.
The result was the violent snap of both men’s necks merging in sync, and their bodies falling. With no concern, Spiderman stood and dropped his webs, not bothering to get rid of the evidence.
He didn’t mind as a four more guards came running to the sound of the throaty screams, leaving the perimeter (except for the front) unprotected.
Originally, the plan was to sneak into the air ducts as they were unguarded, but once he thought it over, it wasn’t that fun that way. What’s the fun of being a killer when all you do is kill a few people?
So, the plan turns into a wing.
The men that stood startled below began waving their guns violently as a few webs began coming from the darkness beyond the safety light of the factory entrance. The short shots of web, however, covered the cameras, to their noticing. And that startled them even more.
And bullets were shot when a knife came from the night, hitting one of the four guards squarely in the chest. And with a gurgled sob, fell to the ground.
Suddenly, with a swoop and light plop behind the three remaining, the terror struck them even further. As they turned around, a flash of red and black thrusted a katana sword into the third.
One of the last two remaining held up an AK to kill, but was stopped short at the sudden pistol bullet shredding through his brains.
A web wrapping around the back of his neck suddenly stopped the last one, his attempt at running caught short.
SNAP
And with that, a sword was sheathed against his back and a gun back in his holster. As he casually walked towards the entrance doorway, he stopped to grab the knife that was still stuck in the bleeding man’s chest.
Having to put his foot on the dead body, Spiderman unsheathed the crimson knife from his chest. Wiping the black blood on the shoulder of the dead man, he stuck the knife back into his ankle holster and walked up to the factory door they were protecting, and gave a knock.
==
Deadpool looked at the measly pistol in his right hand and the sad pocketknife in the other. Usually, he’d be sneakier than this. He wouldn’t exactly walk up to his target, especially without anything. But, right now, he wasn’t feeling it. The complete and utter (potential) loss of his well-deserved weapons hit him sore.
And instead of going in determined, he was pouty. The voices in his head nagged at him to straighten his back and take at least some care. Instead he crossed his arms and slouched towards his target.
And upon stumbling on a few dead bodies with spider webs and blood covering them, Deadpool took in consideration what the voices were telling him.
Crouched, with his pistol pointed, his wrists crossed so his pocketknife (well it was more of a switch blade, which is kind of a pocket knife right?) crossing across his pistol-holding wrist. Military style, he carefully approached the barely ajar door.
And, upon pushing it forward, the sight was nearly unbelievable.
A corridor of a river of blood. Limbs, body parts, stabbed bodies, slashed necks. All the tricks and pulls available for a military grade knife, Katanas, and a pistol.
His defensive stand turned shocked, back now straightened and arms dangling weakly at his sides as Deadpool took in the sight. Guts, guns, and grief littered the room. Something Spiderman would despise.
[Shit Shit Shit Shit]
“Shit Shit Shit Shit.”
[We fucked up]
“I fucked up.”
Deadpool ran down the extremely long corridor, typically he’d go faster but if it weren’t for the sticky blood and slippery gut shards everywhere.
And, as he got to the end of the corridor and was about to push through the swinging doors that led to the warehouse part of the factory, he stopped short at the sudden gunshots and screams.
==
The knock on the door nearly confused the dozens of men that sat at crappy, old poker tables.
Their heads snapped up and looked at the door, as there was a subtle knock once more.
One of nearly 24 didn’t hesitate to get up.
As he walked over, one of the (buffer) guys stood up and blocked his path, a snarl clear on his face. The guard that originally stood up looked hesitantly over his shoulder at the door, as there was another knock.
“I’ll handle this.” The skinnier one sighed and returned back to his poker seat, as the bigger and buffer one strutted over towards the door with authority.
Of course, it was a little weird that someone would be knocking on the door. It must be a prank from the guys outside, right?
The big guy grabbed the door handle; ready to beat ass for the dumb guys standing out thinking it was funny. He turned the handle, and suddenly someone burst from the doors at the back of the room.
“DON’T OPEN THAT DOOR!”
And, it was too late. The door was already swung and the cool air from the outside was already streaming in.
The bigger guy scoffed and turned around musing at the guy who warned him. He turned back around to survey the area, and a glimpse of blood pooling from six bodies was cut short by two feet to the face.
Spiderman swung, hard, into the bigger man. The sickening sound of jaw against muscle and head shattering at the sudden impact on the ground almost, not even, made Peter sick.
But satisfied as he slit the guy’s throat and the gargled scream drowned. Instantly, bullets flied around him and he quickly took cover behind one of the many pillars in the wide corridor.
He breathed as bullets ricochet and bounced, blocking off pieces of the pillar he stood behind.
A breath once more, before holding it, and leaned over the corner to quickly and strategically snapping off the guys with the bigger guns, not missing a bullet as he picked nearly three of them off before dodging once more behind the pillar to skip a bullet being fired his way.
He breathed again and put the gun back in the holster quickly, and closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He hummed quietly as he tightened his fists and cracked his knuckles.
He unsheathed the Katanas carefully, examining them and trying to think of a way to use his Spidey climbing powers with these things in his hand.
==
Luis, the guy who had just witnessed the stabbing and shooting of several people by none other than Spiderman himself, stood terrified and paralyzed. He stared at the mangled throat of one of the biggest dudes there, nearly 20 feet away. The one he warned not to open the door.
He had seen the footage from the video surveillance room and, noting the gargled sounds and blocked cameras, instantly rushed to the front to warn them.
Well. Uh-oh Luis.
He gasped as the quick scene unfolded before him.
The masked man from behind the pillar had suddenly jumped from out of cover and grappled onto the wall, a Katana in hand and bloodied knife in the other, which sailed and cut through air to position itself in the guy’s forehead closest to Luis.
And as Spiderman jumped off the wall, midair unsheathing the other Katana, he crossed them and in one swooping motion cut off the head of the closest guy near him, practically pouncing.
Bullets continued to bear down on the merciful spider, without one successful hit due to the delayed single-fire pistols. Some bullets were ricocheted off of the Katanas Spiderman was waving around.
He suddenly double penetrated the closest guy in the stomach, ripping down and letting all the blood and glory fall from his gaping wound. He then stabbed the closest guy with one Katana in the chest, and bringing him closer to act as a body shield as he threw the other Katana towards a shaking guard across the room.
It had missed, nearly, but still slicing the guy’s ear off and flung passed and situated into the guy behind him.
Instead, a pistol bullet positioned itself into the missed target’s head. Another shot, another shot, and two were down.
Spiderman quickly kicked the screeching buff off his sword, allowing him to fall to the ground, only for Spiderman to smash the tip of the sword right in the middle of his face with a grunt of pent up rage.
He quickly recovered and bounced from pillar to pillar, dodging few bullets that came after him, to recover his stuck katana from the guy who it had targeted. He quickly went after his next target, and with two swooping motions, cut his arms and head clean off.
Spiderman nearly missed aimed bullets as he ducked, resulting in an accidental slide on the bloody ground, only taking advantage and slashing his Katanas at the two out of five guys’ ankles. They both fell and were ended with decapitated heads and lost feet.
He quickly ditched the Katanas while picking up the pistol from the fresh kill, and with three great strides, killed the last shaking three.
By then, Luis had left.
==
As he quickly deposited a bullet in the last one, his head snapped up to the slam of the door he was planning to enter.
Fuck.
One had gotten away, and he forgotten to web the cameras. Well, welcome back stealth. He deposited the ammunition from the gun he had used to kill the last three, and reloaded his (Deadpool’s) pistol.
Using the cloth on his wrist, he quickly cleaned off the two Katanas and knife before pocketing them. He was already bloody from the shockwave of blood and the slip-n-side of gore, so what was the point in using the blood soaked cloth from one of the bodies he had freshly killed?
Anyway, stealth.
He looked around the room, sighing when he noticed the air vent on the ceiling. Quickly webbing the cover, and pulling it down with force and a great clang, and he webbed himself into the cramped space and began to crawl in the dusty air vents of the factory.
He, really, had no idea where he was going. Only going straight to in hopes get into the next room the escapee disappeared in. The sudden blast of alarms and small red flashes coming from some of the open vents nearly made Spiderman jump out of his skin.
He quickly crawled to the vent at the end of the small forward airway path.
The red light that blinked from the vent streamed across Spiderman’s face. He watched as dozens upon dozens of guards stood with their guns pointed directly at the door he was planning to come out of. All of them nearly shook, terrified. Spiderman mused at this, chuckling slightly as he quickly and silently unhinged the air vent that he looked between.
==
Deadpool quickly opened the door to find Spiderman crouched in the back of the messy factory room. He stood menacingly, legs spread and head low. His body heaved at the heavy breaths he took, Deadpool’s Katanas gripped mercilessly between his hands.
Blood dripped and caked the suit, and Spiderman’s white gleaming eyes (from the mask) was terrifying. The decapitated body the lay underneath him twitched.
The guards had cleared out of the room and either took cover or simply to go call upon bigger forces.
So, the room was nearly empty other than the ones that were frozen in fear, which Deadpool quickly exterminated with quick pops of his gun.
And although Peter’s face was hidden behind the mask, Deadpool could tell he was looking straight at him. He gulped and slowly approached Spiderman, usually he was more nonchalant about things like this but by the way Peter had suddenly learned to use Katanas expertly within a night, he wasn’t exactly trusting.
His gun and knife were dropped and his hands slowly rose as he took step after step towards Peter.
“Pet- I mean, Spiderman… I need you to calm down, this isn’t right, this isn’t you…”
Spiderman’s posture straightened a little bit more at the recognition of an old friend. But his glaring eyes didn’t change.
“Isn’t me?”
“Spiderman doesn’t kill…”
Suddenly the Katanas were flung hard, causing Deadpool to flinch madly (despite the healing factor), but Spiderman’s grip stayed on it. The fling caused the blood to be splattered off the blades and now, Spiderman stood perplexed and straightened.
“You think you can tell me what to do?” And suddenly he was on this rant.
“You think, because I’m a spider, you think I can be pushed around? Squashed? You think Spiders aren’t supposed to kill? News flash, Spiders are supposed to trap their victims and eat their blood, they’re supposed watch them squirm and scream as they slowly devour them. In fact, I’m doing these guys a favor. But you, saying I shouldn’t kill when it’s in my blood?”
Deadpool gulped.
“I’m guessing you don’t understand. Spiderman doesn’t kill? I’LL SHOW YOU KILL! MAKE YOUR NAME TRUTH AND TURN YOU DEAD, DEADPOOL!”
And Spiderman lunged.