feel his heart

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TRIGGER WARNING!

SUICIDE/SUICIDE UNDER MINDCONTROL

If you're not comfortable with this topic, you can skip the first part until you see theemoji. Stay safe and take care of yourself, I will summarize this part in the notes so you don't miss any vital information.

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"Doctor Morgan Michaels."

Martin Li grinned. It wasn't a nice grin, the only thing reaching his eyes being a piercing icy-ness.

The hero shivered. After taking out the Demons holding out the party goers in the lobby, he'd made quick work to pick up the chase again, not wanting to risk losing Delaney and his captors. But it was already too late.

With a touch, the mans fate had been sealed. His eyes had glazed over, a dull grey shining out between the lids. Voice monotone and calm he'd told Li and his goons exactly what they wanted to hear.

They'd wanted a connection of Norman to Devils Breath, and they'd got it. Doctor Morgan Michaels.

Before Peter was able to do something, Li put something into the mans hand, concealed by his body.
The second Peter realized just what he was holding, it was already to late.

A gunshot.

Ca-clack. The gun dropped before Delaneys' body, having slipped from his limp hand.

"No!", Peter yelled, but it was already too late. He hadn't been fast enough, and now the Demons new he was here. They used that knowledge according, turning to fire in his general direction almost instantly. The vigilante jumped. Hiding was useless now, with Delaney dead and the Demons well aware of his presence.

Fuck.

Magic lashed out at him as he landed, crackling, biting and searing. He launched himself sideways, away from the blast and avoided it narrowly, but the attacks were far from stopping. Or so he thought.

Immediately after dodging a blow from a guy looking as if he wanted to do nothing else but bash his face in, the assault on him ceased. Peter caught himself and leapt to a higher vantage point, a large metal locker to be exact. Oh, this was bad.

The remaining Demons assembled around Li, an unkind grin twisting his features.

"What's the matter? You seem awfully rattled!", he crooned and grinned predatory. Peter felt nauseous.

"You don't have to do this!", the hero bargained. "Stop it, turn yourself in and we can work together to find a solution for whatever your problem is!"

Guffaws and cackles filled the tense air, mocking and taunting. Li chuckled and shook his head ever so slightly, clearly as amused - if not more - than his henchmen.

"You're very naïve, Spider-Man. I appreciate the effort, but there is nothing you can do." For a split second - Peter was sure he was imagining things, he had to - a glimpse of Martin seemed to shimmer through, the man he'd gotten to know as one of the kindest souls, dedicating himself to helping others. It was gone as quickly as it came, and the darkness returned. "Norman Osborn has to pay."

The wave of raw energy came at him like a gut punch, knocking him off of his vantage point and into the wall. He groaned, scrambling to his feet as the Demons closed in on him.

Li grinned. His body and skin seemed... different, still like him but as a negative photograph entirely composed of blacks, greys and whites. Just like the men that had attacked him when Farha had found out about him being Spider-Man. Just like the living bombs at Norman's re-election rally.

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