13. The Monument

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"You will be my girl, my girl, my girl, my girl...."

TW: knives and blood

Peter's POV

I strained with all my might, attempting to pry open the stubborn concrete doors that stood as a barrier between me and the outside world. Frustration tinged my voice as I kicked at the unyielding obstruction.

"The door will most likely stay closed until morning," the suit lady's voice echoed in my ears, her tone laced with a hint of resignation. I let out a sigh, a mixture of impatience and resignation, realizing that my attempts to force my way out would be in vain for the time being. My mind raced, considering alternative options for escape.

Restless, I aimlessly wandered around the containers, the silence of the night broken only by my footsteps echoing through the deserted area. A thought crossed my mind, prompting me to address the suit lady who had been my constant companion.

"Y'know, I kinda feel bad calling you 'suit lady'," I began, my voice filled with a touch of warmth as I approached a nearby wall. With a quick web-slinging motion, I created a hammock-like structure, intending to make myself more comfortable. "I think I should probably give you a name," I mused aloud, testing out the idea as I jumped into the makeshift hammock, my arms folded behind my head.

"What about... Karen?" I proposed, feeling a connection to the suit lady as I swung back and forth against the wall. 

"You can call me Karen if you would like," the suit lady responded,  A feeling of satisfaction washed over me as I lay on the floor, gazing up at my web shooters.

"Maybe we should run that refresher course," I suggested

***

Hours, or perhaps even weeks, had slipped away in that confined space, the passage of time becoming blurred and indistinguishable. My frustration grew with each passing moment, my impatience tinged with a growing concern for Y/n's well-being.

"How far is Y/n, Karen?" I inquired, my voice laced with a tinge of worry.

"It would appear she's still offline," Karen replied, her words causing a flicker of anxiety to surge within me.

"Oh great, I hope she's not dead," I muttered to myself, attempting to allay my own fears. "Probably not, she's too strong and powerful to die, I think," I reassured myself, my words tinged with uncertainty.

"So, who is this Y/n?" Karen inquired, her artificial voice resonating with interest.

"Who's Y/n?" I repeated, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Heh, she's... She's the best. She's awesome," I began, my voice filled with admiration and fondness. "She's, uh, she's just my friend who i really REALLY like and happens to go to my school and live in the same complex as me. And, uh... yeah, it's just kinda weird," I confessed, struggling to find the right words to convey the depth of our connection.

"Well, what's so weird about that?" she inquired, 

I paused for a moment, contemplating my response. "I dunno, it's just... What if she's expecting this big, strong guy who's, y'know, a bad boy? And I'm just Peter Parker, the nerd who likes Star Wars and plays with LEGOs," I admitted.

"Well, if I were her, I wouldn't be disappointed," she said, her words carrying a gentle warmth that offered solace to my self-doubt.

As the time dragged on, my impatience grew unbearable. "How long have we been in here anyway?" I asked, my voice laden with frustration.

"Thirty-seven minutes," Karen responded, her answer punctuating the agony of my confinement.

"WHAT?" I exclaimed, disbelief coloring my voice. "I can not take this anymore! I gotta get outta here," I declared, determination fueling my actions. I rushed to the door, trying everything within my power to break free, only to be met with defeat. Exhausted and defeated, I slumped down, my hopes dwindling.

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