The Journal of a Clone
One night, in his Manhattan apartment, Ben Reilly, better known as the Scarlet Spider, was listening to his police scanner. Most of the night had been calm, or dealt with, unlike his day.
“Journal. Sunday, July 5th.
Today multiple people confused me with Parker. Insulted my hair. Wouldn't listen when I told them that I wasn't Parker until it was already a scene.”
[Police Scanner]: ‘There has been a reported shooting in the Harlem area.’
“I wish people wouldn't assume I'm Parker. Five years ago I found out I was a clone of Parker. I did some things I'm not proud of. I ran away, took the name Ben Reilly—along with a few others. I never thought I'd end up back in New York.”
[Police Scanner]: ‘Requesting backup immediately! The suspect appears to be armed with advanced weaponry!’
Ben pulls on the faded red suit beneath the blue hoodie, tugging the mask over his face. A face. The face he stole. Parker's face.
“Most of my life has been spent trying to prove I'm someone else. I came back a few years ago and made some friends. The first real friends I've ever had. The New Warriors. That's where I met Angel. She was the first person who looked at me and saw... me. Not Peter. Not a clone. Just Ben. Then I did what I always do. I ran. While I was gone, she got cancer. She needed people around her. I wasn't one of them.”
Ben climbs onto the fire escape and launches into the night, a web-line catching the side of a nearby building before carrying him over the traffic below.
[Police Scanner]: ‘Units responding, be advised: multiple civilians remain inside the building. Suspect is firing indiscriminately. Exercise extreme caution.’
The city blurs beneath him. Rooftops become stepping stones. Neon signs streak past. Sirens grow louder with every swing.
“I went to Vegas, and it was hell. I battled demons, lived through hallucinations, died more times than I care to count. It was my own personal Sin City. I met Abigail Mercury there. Kid had Crooks' Disease. Brave enough to smile through it, even when everyone else had given up. I promised I'd find a way to help her. I didn't. I couldn’t.”
A burst of gunfire echoes several blocks ahead. Ben changes direction before his feet even touch the next rooftop.
[Police Scanner]: ‘Officer down! Officer down! Any available units, respond immediately!’
“That's the thing about guilt. It doesn't get lighter. You just get stronger carrying it.”
Another web-line shoots from his wrist, carrying him across the avenue.
“I'm done running. I'm staying in New York. I'm going to help whoever I can. And that means I don't let anyone get too close. Because…”
He spots the flashing lights below. Civilians scatter into the street as rounds tear through shattered windows. Ben tucks into a dive.
“Because every single time I do, they get hurt.”
The Scarlet Spider lands in a crouch as another volley of gunfire erupts overhead. Without a word, he runs toward it.
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