From The Smoke (Marvel)

Chapter 15

Disclaimer: If you recognise it, surprise, I don't own it.

Chapter 15– Living Merchandise.

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The sight of those dozen people, dressed in rags, connected together by chains with bags over their heads, it made utter rage and vitriol bubble up from deep within my gut. This anger and fury I felt, I felt it because, in a way, I was just like them. To these people here, that chain them up and push them forward like they are cattle, they are nothing more than property, something to be owned.

Just like I was, Miles Warren, the Jackal, created me, and he thought that gave him supreme power and ownership over me, and I can't help but feel in the depths of my being that, for a time, I was. I don't have memories of that, my only memories being those of Peter Parker and the ones from my other world, but I can feel it. Like it was engraved onto my very soul, even if I can't remember it, I know it. I was just like those people down there and was treated way worse, subjected to all sorts under Warrens's maniacal hands.

I want to jump down there, kick the shit out of all the thugs down there, permanently snap half of the bones in their bodies and free the captured people. I want to, but I can't. Those poor people down there are being readied for transport to a place where there are a lot more people being stored, people that are probably in way more pain and suffering. I need to find those people and help them, so, unfortunately, these people will have to wait just a bit longer, as will my fists.

I watch as the thugs force the people into the back of the truck, happy to use excessive force and battering with the butts of their guns to motivate them to move, which makes me clench my fists as I restrain myself from surging forward. Then, finally, they chain each of the, let's call it as it is, slaves to the inside of the truck and then hop back out and close the back of the truck.

At this point, the men go back to the front and get into the front of their truck, and begin to drift off to their following location while the two thugs inside go to close the garage shutters. With no time to waste, I act quickly and leap down from the rafters on top of the two thugs, slamming down on top of them with both of my palms, grasping the back of their heads and forcing them face down right into the ground, knocking them out with a sickening crunch.

With no time to lose, I rush straight out of the garage door and into the street, spotting the truck turning around the corner at the end of the road. I pull out my grapple gun and quickly shoot up into the sky, spreading my cape to begin gliding as I quickly spot the truck moving over to the freeway.

I am high enough up in the sky that I can slowly glide through the air and follow the truck, all the while keeping out of sight. If I need to pick up speed, then I can just unfold my cape and start diving straight down to build up momentum, and then open my cape again and pull up to gain a boost and keep momentum so that I can follow the truck.

For now, I am fine, just floating in the air, and though the truck is far away, I have a clear eye on it, and it isn't on the freeway yet, having hit traffic, so I have enough time to do something really quick. So I press a button on the inside of the right of my cape, and it automatically becomes locked in place and detaches from my arm. And with my arm free and my flight sustained, I reach into my utility belt and pull out my burner phone. I quickly dial in the number and press ring.