A Super Nobody (Spider-Verse x Male Reader)

Issue 24 - No Mercy For Weak Minds

The hum of the fluorescent light buzzed incessantly, creating a low, irritating background noise in the small bathroom. Pete stood in front of the mirror, his hands gripping the edge of the sink so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He stared at his reflection, his brows furrowed in discomfort. There was a strange, persistent itch beneath his skin, right under the surface of his face. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. His face felt tight like it was stretching and pulling, and the sensation was growing more unbearable by the second.

"Come on, what is this?" he muttered to himself, pressing his fingers against his cheeks, hoping to find a spot or a bump. But as he pushed down, the skin seemed to give way under his touch, like it wasn't attached properly. Panic rose in his chest, his heartbeat quickening. Pete leaned closer to the mirror, his breath fogging up the glass as he inspected his reflection.

The itch intensified, a crawling sensation that made him shiver. Unable to stand it any longer, Pete dug his nails into the skin of his cheek and pulled. What he expected was to pop a spot, maybe relieve some tension. What happened instead made his stomach lurch.

The skin on his face peeled away effortlessly, like pulling off a piece of tape. But instead of the raw, bloody flesh he expected, there was something smooth and featureless beneath. Pete gasped, stumbling back until he collapsed onto the closed toilet seat, his hands shaking violently. He stared down at the piece of skin—his own face—in his trembling hands, and his breath came in short, terrified gasps.

His reflection stared back at him from the mirror. Only it wasn't his face anymore. It was a blank, white canvas where his features used to be, like a mannequin's head.

"What the hell... what the hell is this?" Pete whispered, his voice trembling with horror. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a drum of fear and confusion. He wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but the sight of his reflection had robbed him of speech. For a long moment, he sat there, frozen, staring at the faceless thing in the mirror.

His thoughts raced, scrambling for an explanation, anything that could make sense of what was happening to him. The itch was gone now, replaced by a strange sense of numbness, like his entire face had gone to sleep. Pete swallowed hard, trying to regain control of his breath, trying to think through the panic that threatened to overwhelm him.

"I've got to... I've got to tell Y/N," he muttered to himself, the thought of his brother grounding him, giving him something to hold on to.

As soon as he thought of Y/N, a ripple passed through his blank reflection. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the blank, white surface began to change. Eyes appeared first, followed by the curve of a nose and then the outline of lips. Within seconds, Pete was no longer looking at a faceless mannequin—he was staring at Y/N's face.

He blinked, startled, and reached up to touch his cheek. His reflection mimicked the movement perfectly. It wasn't just his face; it was Y/N's face—every freckle, every line, every detail exactly right.

"Y/N...?" Pete whispered, his voice trembling. But the voice that came out wasn't his own. It was Y/N's voice, soft and a little unsure, exactly as he would sound.

Pete shot up from the toilet, his mind racing as he stared at the mirror, the mask of Y/N's face still perfectly in place. Without thinking, he reached up and peeled at his face again, wincing as he tugged the skin away. The mask came off quickly, and he held it in his hands, staring down at it in awe. It was like holding a rubber mask, thin and flexible, but it was Y/N's face in every detail.

A strange thrill ran through him, overpowering the initial horror. What had started as a nightmare now felt like something incredible, something powerful. He could become anyone. He could be Y/N, he could be—