Arachnophobia ⇒ Peter Parker

thirteen: introduction to spiderman

[the following chapter may be mature for some audiences, as it includes minor violence and moderate cursing.]

     I nervously glanced down the street, scanning the crowd for anyone suspicious. Isaac had told me that his men would be easily recognizable. Impatiently, I found my eyes glancing down at my phone for a sign that his men had arrived. My feet wandered over to the alleyway beside me, where we were supposed to meet. Immediately afterward, a shriek left my contorted lips as an arm grasped mine firmly.

     My back was slammed against the chalky brick wall behind me. The contours of each individual tile were engulfed by the delicate skin that had been pushed into them. My vision shifted from the arm that was holding me, which was covered in tattoos and bulging veins, to the face that was parallel mine. I was met with the hard face of a young man. His eyes looked as though they rested in a stationary manner behind his eyelids, unable to carry the weight of emotion. Two men stood beside him, scowling at me as their crossed arms rested on their chests. The three towered over me and their looming shadows reached inches above my head.

     I whispered, making sure that I had the right men, "You must be working for Isaac."

     "Who the hell is Isaac?" The man said with a thick English accent. Panic overwhelmed me. My breath became louder and shaky. My eyes shifted amongst the men, trying to decipher the weakest of the three. They had the appearance of being equally skilled, but the middle one had the most unforgiving snarl. My adrenaline began to kick in and a buzz rushed through my body.

     The underlying threat of the situation caused me to feel uncomfortable. What if Peter never found me? Less talk, more action, I thought as I realized the men were sizing me up as though I was their prey. I had to do something before these men gained complete control over me.

     Swiftly, my arm raised to meet the stern expression of the leader of the pack, a large cracking noise rang out. Before the echo managed to reach the other men, my leg collided with the chest of the man to his left. A groan left his lips as he stumbled backward. I recalled my combat coach telling me that surprise would be my best friend in a dangerous situation. My opponent would double take when they realized that the scrawny girl could throw a strong punch.

     While I still had that advantage, I grabbed the person who had been to my right and twisted his arm. He fell over my shoulder with a loud thud when his body collided with the grimy cement beneath us. I lunged at the leader of the group, managing to knock him down. My vision blurred with dancing white specks and I stumbled back to the wall to clear the view ahead of me. My quick breath tried to pace itself but was sucked away when an arm grabbed the back of my shirt and pushed me.

     This time, the man who had lingered to the left was standing in the center. I had been fooled by his generic appearance, he seemed more aware in the situation than the other two had. I bowed my head, what seemed like a humiliated action was, in reality, me scanning him for a weak point. I recoiled when his arm quickly moved.

     A brilliant light blinded my vision for a brief moment, but I regained my awareness as soon as it had left. My stomach clenched and a small gasp escaped me.

     "Listen, I don't mean any harm," I glanced down at the knife he had gripped in his arm, nerves bounded my words and innocence lined my voice, "Please let me go."

     "You couldn't possibly be Amalia," The man said, narrowing his eyes at me. A growl emitted from his pursed lips as he gave me the once-over. I was confused as to why he didn't recognize the name Isaac when I had mentioned him and decided to think more into it at a later time. For now, I needed to focus on staying alive.

     "He told that she was good at combat, but had a weak soul," he continued, a smirk playing on his lips as he realized that everything he said was coming infiltrating me, "But you, you're just weak."

     His words hit me, beginning to crack the harsh exterior that I had attempted to put up. How had I been chosen for this important mission when in reality, I was just a weak girl who had dabbled in combat? I stared into the eyes of the man in front of me. My sad eyes were the dam between the river of tears that was welled up and the harsh terrain of skin that coated my cheeks. The only thing that was holding me back was myself. The sun rose like the smile to my mouth, and the river below me dried out.

     "If I'm one thing, it's not weak."

     For a moment, the man in front of me looked sickened. He then took a moment to regain his composure and let a comfortable string of laughter pulsate through his grinning lips. The warmth radiating off his knife reached my skin, and I flinched as I realized he was still in control. This man had a knife centimeters away from my neck, and I was taking this time to gain my self-confidence? My throat closed off as raspy words attempted to escape my mouth. My frail figure was pitiful compared to this man's large composition.

     The weapon finally touched my skin, breaking the outer layer of my throat under its sharp metal. A thin crimson stream of blood was visible in my peripheral vision. The cut was just enough to tease what was to come. Wanting to prolong my misery, he let the searing pain of his knife spread through me. His actions felt held back. But I knew I had been stretching my luck, which would tear soon enough. I had gone over the deep end, and there was no possibility of Peter finding me any longer. I would be found days later dead, choking on my own blood. Would Peter ever know the truth? Would my family be set free?

     "To think you were able to take down my men."

     "It's called skill buddy, you might want to try it out," A youthful voice rang out from the outline of a figure, which was obscured by shadows.

     A figure fell down behind the man, a flash of red and blue following it. From what I could tell through my blurred vision, the man was pushed away from me. Stars began to collect in my eyes and I wanted nothing more than to scream out for help. However, my lungs pushed the blood from the cut upwards and all I was able to make were gurgling noises, crimson leaking out through each noise.

     The shadow of a figure ran over to me, getting closer as my head spun rapidly. A hand grabbed my chin and lifted my head up. Peter was there, disguised by his suit, looming over me. He nervously rambled, unable to comprehend what had happened. The fact that he had recognized me was obvious, but he was having trouble connecting the dots as to how I had been in the situation.

     His head nearly grazed over my neck as he watched it carefully. After a moment, he said, "You need to go the hospital."

     Knowing that Isaac wouldn't be pleased with this, I attempted to shake my head as a response. He mumbled something along the lines of taking me to his friend's apartment. Drowsily, I felt the fabric of his suit engulf me as he raised me. The noise around me faded away and the image in front of me dulled as my sullen eyes blinked slowly. I felt as though I had fallen into a black abyss and only the white outline of what I had previously been looking at remained. And a sheet of black engulfed me.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

I don't know how I felt about this scene because it was rather difficult to write, but I promise next scene will be adorable. I literally had to search up what it feels like to get your throat slit for this scene and let me just say, it was graphic. Moving on... if you liked this chapter please let me know by commenting or liking it! Until next chapter!

Next chapter: Saturday, 30 September