Some of the dialogue was used from the movie novelization by Peter David.  I would have went to see the film a million times, but then I’d be broke…^_~
 

The Man Behind The Mask

by Jen Richardson (padme_76@yahoo.com)
 

Chapter 4

Norman watched his son slowly walk up to the gravesite of Emily Osborn, and followed a distance behind. When they reached their destination, they stood there for about fifteen minutes, neither of them speaking at all.

Harry finally broke the silence with a strained cough as he fidgeted with the bouquet of roses he was holding. He knelt beside the grave and lovingly touched the stone slab. "Hi, mom.....it's me.  Uh...dad's here, too."  Harry placed the flowers on the grave and smiled sadly.  "Happy belated birthday...." Then he shivered as a cold wind blew around him. "Sorry I couldn't come sooner, but.... I was busy."

It was probably the only tradition the two Osborn men observed together willingly.  Each year on her birthday, they would set aside the day to visit her gravestone.....  Harry had thought of the idea when he was a child.  It was his way of keeping mom informed of the things he did during the years.

Harry never did like the cemetary, Norman reflected.  He hated the silence....the smell of dead leaves....

Harry was eighteen now, but in many ways....he was still the frightened, little boy who had just lost his mother.  Norman had tried to teach his son to be self-sufficient....since he wasn't around much to administer parental control, Harry had gotten into trouble more than once.  It was embarrassing.  Norman didn't want to think of his son as an embarrassment ....but in the recesses of his mind, Harry was just that.  He knew his son was doing his best, and that's was scared Norman.  The kid had no motivation to speak of...his grades were atrocious, and he practically got booted from every single private school in New York before landing in Midtown High.  If it weren't for Parker's tutoring, his son wouldn't be planning his graduation in a few months.

Ugh...if Harry takes over OsCorp....I hope I'll be dead by then, Norman frowned.  He imagined Harry would run OsCorp into the ground.....not that it wasn't already.  With Slocum and Quest breathing down Norman's neck, he only had two weeks to file his final proposal and plan the demonstration.  But he was having second thoughts about revealing his secret experiment from the night before.

His memory was still hazy...but he remembered initiating the trial run on himself.  The last thing he recalled was breathing in the vaporized serum....  The next thing that happened was Stromm getting murdered by the thief who stole Osborn's prototype transport. And then the voice - a dark, twisted, demonic voice - started speaking to him at night, cackling at him.  The eerie thing was... it sounded SO familiar, but he couldn't place it.

Norman was beginning to wonder if Stromm was right.... perhaps he was going insane.  He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered, and it wasn't because it was cold.  Osborn was brought out of his thoughts as he caught Harry's glance. The younger Osborn started walking towards his father.

"I said 'hi' for you...." Harry said.  "Can we go now?  You know how this place makes me feel..."

Norman nodded as they both made their way back to the car a few yards away. Emily....  You can't hear us anyway, Norman sighed.  It's sad.....all that's left of you is a cold, stone marker.

Norman Osborn wasn't a religious man. He didn't really believe in an afterlife...being a scientist left little room for spiritual thought.  The idea that she wasn't really dead sounded ridiculous to him. He was by her bedside when she passed on.  All the pain and suffering she had endured over the remaining months of her life had given way to peace and serenity.

But for Norman...the pain and suffering had just begun. He was angry for a while, and to cure his depression he engrossed himself in his work.  Naturally, that created a wedge between father and son.  Perhaps it was time to change that, Norman decided.  He opened the door for Harry, but his son stopped as if he were in a daze.  Concern was written on Norman's face. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry just sighed and gave his father a sad smile.  "Oh, nothing. It's just.... I can still see her face...." He cast his eyes down as he got in the car.

Norman eyes seemed to be searching for something, but eventually his gaze rested on Harry.  He gave his son a slight grin.  "So can I..... I'm surprised you still remember her."

"Yeah.....I never really knew her....but--" he trailed off.

Norman frowned slightly. "What?"

Harry sighed softly. "I miss her."

The elder Osborn just nodded in agreement, but kept his thoughts to himself.  He wondered briefly what Emily would think of his recent behavior.  The blackouts, the headaches......the voice inside his head.  She'd probably think he was going mad....

It wasn't the time to dwell on such things.  "C'mon.  I have to be at the office in an hour, so let's get moving." He ordered the driver to head for home.
 

--------
 

The maid knocked on Norman's door.  "Sir?  I thought you might want to look at this." She indicated the morning edition in her hand with a worried expression.

He looked up from his reports and frowned. "What is it Theresa?  Oh...the paper.  I didn't get to read it this morning, uh....just leave it," he grumbled as he turned his attention back to his work.  He had a feeling that she probably read it already, which was fine with him.  Usually he was too busy to even glance at the news....no news was good news as far as he was concerned.

Norman felt something in the pit of his stomach that told him otherwise. He glanced up briefly and discovered that Theresa was a little more persistent than usual.  She still remained by the door.  "But Mr. Osborn...you REALLY want to look at this. Now."

He rose out of his chair and gave her a sigh in resignation. "Oh, fine.  I'll satisfy your inexorable nature just this once," he smirked and took the paper from her. Norman soon wished he had never opened the dammed thing.  The first headline that jumped out to him read, "OsCorp Loses Contract To Quest."

His eyes went wide in fury. No... NO!!  Slocum....you insufferable bastard!  He was supposed to give me two weeks!!  He was seething by the time he reached the editorials.  It had a article with the headline, "The End Of Norman Osborn?  Is OsCorp Finished?"  Erg....that Jameson.... Norman growled.  I'm not finished yet.... I'm going to make Slocum pay.  All of them will pay.

Feeling the pressure, Norman? Heh...heh.... It was the voice again, taunting him in his mind.

Norman gasped.  There it is again....what the hell--?

His heart raced as he reached for his overcoat, and his trembling hands knocked over an expensive vase.  He grimaced. Ugh...I think I need to see a doctor....maybe the serum is getting to me.....

In more ways than one..... the voice snickered at him.

"Are you all right, sir?"  Theresa was grabbing a broom and dustpan from the hall, probably thinking her employer was a nutcase.  She began sweeping up the broken pieces.  "You didn't cut yourself?  Those vases can be sharp."

Norman was feeling a bit helpful and knelt down, holding the dustpan for her.  "Uh, yes....I'm fine.  Just....feeling a bit irritable.  Theresa," he started to say in exasperation, "Why did you even let me look at that?  Now I'm tired AND angry."  When she finished sweeping, he watched her bring a trash bag from the hallway.

She gave him a sheepish grin.  "I'm sorry.  But...I thought you should know.  Besides, you are the CEO.  I figured you should know what the press is saying about you and the company."  She bravely giggled and covered her mouth suddenly. "Oh, sorry sir."

Norman's mouth twitched as a slight grin appeared. "I'm glad you find this so amusing...."

Theresa shook her head furiously. "Oh no! I don't, it's just....well, you've been avoiding the news ever since you signed that contract. And now with poor Dr. Stromm," she trailed off.  She took the dustpan from him and emptied it into the garbage bag.  She looked at him expectantly. "Do the police know who did it?"

Norman frowned.  "No.... I doubt they ever will.  Speaking of which.... did you find out when the services will be held?"

She nodded.  "They're having the wake on Saturday. You're attending, aren't you?"

He nodded and slowly exhaled....he preferred not to think about Stromm right now.  "Well.....I guess I'd better be going.  I still have some work to finish at the lab."  She smiled and left with the trash bag full of broken vase pieces.  Norman groaned at the thought of that vase winding up in the garbage. That cost me a few thousand dollars....ugh, I hope the insurance will cover it, he winced.

Norman put on his coat and was ready to leave when Harry passed the den with several books in his arms.  "Oh, Harry," he called.

His son hovered near the doorway, and frowned.  "You called me?"  He suddenly noticed the vase missing. "Hey dad, what happened to that blue vase--"

Norman frowned.  "Nevermind that.  I just wanted to tell you that I finished closing the deal on the building uptown," he said with a slight smile. "You still want the apartment?"

Harry's expression brightened immediately. "Yeah...sure.  Can I tell Peter?  He's looking for a place after graduation, too."

Norman grinned at the mention of his son's best friend.  "Of course!  I could get him his own place, if he wants...."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know...I thought maybe we could be roommates and share the expenses.  At least until we find jobs where we can afford our own places."

Norman nodded in understanding.  "That sounds reasonable.  Maybe it's better that way." He smirked at his son.  "Perhaps Parker's study habits will rub off on you...."

The younger Osborn groaned at his father's teasing remark.  "Yeah, yeah....I know.  Actually, right now I should finish reading my Shakespeare assignment."

Norman gave his son a sympathetic grin. "Heh....good luck.  I was never any good at Shakespeare."

Harry laughed good-naturedly. "So do you know when you'll be back?"

Osborn shrugged.  "Oh...who knows.  With the recent theft and Dr Stromm....I'll call you.  I still have to deal with our rivals at Quest," he added with a hint of malevolence.  Where did THAT come from? Norman frowned slightly.

Harry never noticed the change in his father's mood.  He just nodded. "Well...okay.  I'll see you later, then. I might go visit Peter. He can help me with biology," he chuckled.  He gathered his books and started heading for the stairs.

Norman regarded his son for a moment, then closed the door behind him as he exited the mansion.  His driver was waiting by the black Bentley, ready to take him to OsCorp.  Norman climbed in with a scowl on his face, and he raised the darkened glass between himself and the driver.  Norman didn't feel like talking today.  His thoughts turned back to Harry as he sank back into the leather seats.

Harry's grades were improving....with Peter's help.  Granted, he knew his son was bright, but he just wasn't trying hard enough. Peter on the other hand.....he suddenly wondered if Harry was switched at birth with another baby.... Peter was the son that Norman wished he had.....

Norman felt guilty about thinking like that.  No....that's not fair to Harry.  But strangely enough...he felt a connection with Peter.  Perhaps it was just the fact that the young man was a brilliant scientific mind, and Norman could relate to him.

He shook his head as he watched the traffic.  Ugh...I'm being selfish again....

And why not?  A familiar voice purred within Norman Osborn's mind.

Suddenly his grip tightened on the armrest and his breathing became rapid. What?

You're practically the most powerful man in New York!  You give too much of yourself....and now it's time to take what  is yours..... the voice hissed.

Everything the voice told Norman so far was true.  But... he felt odd to be carrying on a conversation with a disembodied voice.  Maybe he was right all along.  Perhaps he WAS developing a brain tumor...and it was affecting his sanity.

Ha ha ha..... oh, you wish,  the voice chuckled evilly, sending chills through Norman.

This is crazy, Norman ran a nervous hand through his hair and started trembling.  I am NOT hearing things.... it's exhaustion, that's it.... I'm just overworked....

Just keep telling that to yourself....heh.  I'll still be here....

No... erg...what's wrong with me?  Norman's mind was frantic as to what he should do.

I'll tell you what's wrong, Osborn.  You're an idiot, that's what!  You're the head of one of the most influential technology firms in the country....and you're letting a bunch of overpaid stiffs run it!!  You don't need them..... you need to take back control.... those fools at Quest think they can limit your potential, but I know better!  They're afraid... they're afraid of what power you can achieve..... and Slocum's the worst of the lot.  His narrow-mindedness is ruining you, Norman.  He'd stop at nothing to watch you crumble, to watch you crash and burn.... That is NOT an option, the voice snarled.  Slocum and those bastards at Quest have to pay for their crimes against you... the voice was telling him.

Norman's eyes narrowed in fury.  Every single word his "inner voice" was saying was true.  He had been weak for so long, letting Slocum walk all over him.  He wanted to wipe the memory of Slocum's face from his mind....

...they need to be punished, the voice demanded in a low growl.

All the fear, all the doubt in his mind disappeared as he listened, and only one word escaped his lips.  Yes....

Osborn's eyes glazed over, taking on a greenish hue.  He suddenly grinned maliciously and snickered. "Driver....take me to the Long Island facility instead," Osborn's voice took a darker tone, but the driver ignored it and did what he was told.

The darker side of Norman Osborn began plotting his rivals' demise.  He headed for the computer labs as soon as he reached the facility, and did a search for Quest's testing schedule.  Although it was probably secret, Norman's other half managed to hack into their files....something Norman wouldn't be able to do on his own....and he found the testing site for Quest Aerospace.  His cold blue eyes narrowed as he read over the schedule.

Yes....Slocum IS attending.  Excellent.... Norman slowly began to smile as he considered how to rid himself of Slocum.  It's time....to make my debut.

He was going to the test site and make an appearance that they wouldn't soon forget.  Just long enough before he ended their miserable lives.
 

---------
 

Osborn...or actually, the 'other' Osborn, grinned wickedly as he donned the metallic green fright mask he had taken from Norman's den.  It matched perfectly with the armored flightsuit.... the harsh scales, jagged fangs and frightening yellow eyes.

It was easy for Osborn to get his hands on the prototypes.... he had hidden them in the most convenient spot - his storage closet in the Long Island lab.  No one ever went into his locker without Osborn's permission, and it was large enough to hold the glider.  The police never managed to figure it out.  The fools...

He activated the glider and lept onto it, riding it like an expert...of course, he WAS the man who designed it after all.  The man on the glider didn't resemble Norman Osborn anymore.  He looked more like a life-sized gremlin, laughing like a deranged madman.

And this gremlin was ready to cause some major havoc.  He did a thorough check of all the systems on the glider, and performed a brief inventory of his weaponry.  It wouldn't do to run out of ammunition while he was giving Quest a run for their money. He smiled to himself as he found everything was in working order.  He rubbed his hands in eager anticipation and let out an insane chuckle as he angled his glider upwards, zooming out of the complex through the skylight overhead.

It's playtime....heh heh....

If anyone on the streets of New York were to cast their eyes skyward, they wouldn't see anything.  Just a faint smoke trail, which would be dismissed as a small plane.  Little did they know that there was an insane lunatic roaming the skies with a fully armed prototype glider at his disposal.

The testing facility was only about ten miles away on glider.  Osborn started whistling a tune to himself as he accelerated towards his destination.  It sounded eerily like "Singing in the Rain"....his eyes narrowed as he looked down below.  It was an open field in the middle of nowhere, but several bunkers littered the place.  His optical sensors zoomed in on one of the bunkers.... it read "Quest Aerospace."

Ah ha....there they are.... he grinned.  The sorry bastards won't know what hit them.

He glanced at the far eastern bunker and found Quest's precious little toy, their so-called "exoskeleton."  Osborn waited for the pilot to engage the engines before he struck.  It wouldn't be any fun to hit an unmanned vehicle, and he was eager to spill some blood tonight.  His patience wore thin, and he growled. He activated a button on his wrist, and a heat seeking rocket suddenly launched itself towards the exoskeleton.  It blasted the vehicle apart, sending bits of molten metal flying through the air.  Whether the pilot was killed or not....it didn't matter to him.  He was delighted just to see an explosion and mass destruction.

Osborn gasped and put a hand to his mouth. Oops.  My finger slipped.  My bad,  he chortled gleefully.

He made another pass and flew straight through the fiery explosion, looking like a demon emerging from the depths of hell. His burning yellow eyes were fixed on the bunker...and the persons occupying it.  He grinned maliciously behind the evil looking fright mask, considering his next step. Osborn snickered and shouted at the people huddled in the bunker. "A lot of good your precious exoskeleton did for you....Slocum!  Ha ha!"  That was a dead giveaway...oh well.  If Slocum figured it out by now...it didn't matter anymore.  After tonight, Slocum wouldn't be telling anyone anything....

Osborn just let out a gleeful chuckle as he sent another rocket into the bunker, turning the structure into a fiery grave for Slocum, and the other members of Quest.  The flames sparked and crackled as they reached a storage tank full of propane, and it suddenly exploded into a massive fireball.

Norman's eyes gleamed as he watched the inferno.  He seemed hypnotized by the bright flames and raised his arms skyward, as if he were a fire worshipper.  "Burn baby, burn!  Ha ha ha!!" he roared with laughter.

A glint of metal caught Osborn's eye.  He walked over and picked up a small scrap of metal from the wreckage of the exoskeleton.  On one side, it had the initials B.A.D.G.E.R. embossed on it.  B.A.D.G.E.R.?  B.A.D.G.E.R.?!!  He snickered.  What the hell?!?  What kind of name is B.A.D.G.E.R.?!!  He tossed the scrap metal over his shoulder and smirked.  Oh well.... the badger's dead, now!! Ha ha!!
 
He gave a maniacal laugh and jumped on his glider, flying off into the night like a shadowy specter.

"No one crosses Norman Osborn.... and lives to tell about it!"
 
 

TBC
 

Author's Note: Ugh...another hard chapter to write.  I'm pulling ideas from my head as I write...O_o  I actually got the idea for the cemetary scene from Evangelion.  For those of you not versed in anime, it's a really dark story...basically the kid in the anime has a real jerk for a father. They were apart for three years and when they finally meet again, the father orders his son into battle with some monster...O_o  "Oh...sure, dad. Whatever you say..."  Ugh.  Nice role model, huh?.

btw, if you're wondering about the conversations between Osborn and his "other half", I know it's a little early to start that, but I wanted it to culminate into the famous mirror scene.  It just seemed to make more sense to do it this way.  So until then, Norman doesn't know about the Goblin, he thinks he's just losing his mind and hearing things....

..and the "Singing in the Rain" was in reference to "A Clockwork Orange."  I just thought it was funny, in a dark, twisted sort of way. ^_^

Don't forget to review!  I'm not writing this for my health, you know....^_~

~Jen
padme_76@yahoo.com
 
 

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