Arachnophobia ⇒ Peter Parker

twenty five: red handed

     "Rose, it's okay. It's over," Peter whispered into my head, his lips pressing softly against my billowing curls and his arms serving as a blanket over my weak stature. Though he appeared to be comforting me, he seemed as though he was more so speaking to himself. He was trying to convince himself that he could remain unchanged by what he had just seen. His warm scent engulfed me, and his soft touch overwhelmed me. We sat together, outside of the bustling Stark Industries. It was ironic. To think that a mere hour earlier I had entered this facility perceiving that a good night was ahead of me.

     Even though a striking chill filled the air, I was numb to the cold beneath Peter's touch. My eyelids dragged, begging to shut. On the other hand, my mind was alert and burning with the images that were freshly printed on its cover. Peter didn't hide the tears that left his eyes, and I didn't bother to hide mine. In a way, I resented him. I resented his cowardliness. He was here, acting as I was because his pure mind was tarnished by the picture that it had just witnessed. I, in contrast to him, couldn't help but envision myself in that man's situation. To Peter, this incident was merely disturbing, to me, this was a threat.

     "Rose," He whimpered. He didn't need to say much more. His words were already laced with regret. He was filled with this emotion, wishing that he could reverse the many decisions that had led up to this point. His honey brown eyes seemed saturated beneath a blanket of icy tears, and his limbs shook slightly.

     "We both made mistakes, Peter. I feel sick," I whispered to him. I felt trapped in my body, and a fierce pain had spread through me. I looked pale as a sheet, and Peter was soon going to realize that I was being taunted by more than the blinding image of that man.

     Hesitantly, he spoke, "Rose, if anything is bothering you..."

    He was tortured with the image of my pain, and his words came out with a begging tone. I knew that as much as his curiosity was probing him, he was desperate to help me through my torment. But I knew that I couldn't tell him, I couldn't do that to my family.

     "I wish I could tell you, Peter, I really do." I knew that this wasn't going to satisfy him, so I continued on by saying, "I feel so alone. I'm surrounded by people that love me, that I love, but I can't tell anyone what's bothering me. No one loves me, Peter... I don't even love myself."

   We stared at each other, and no words could replace the way he watched me at that moment. The emotions that swirled in his eyes produced a visage I had never seen on him before. I was swelling with emotion and weak to the shaking that ran through my body. These seconds determined more about Peter than I had learned in my months knowing him. He was here for me in my darkest moment.

     "You're wrong, Rose," He said affirmatively, "I love you. And I was waiting to ask you this, but I can't any longer."

    He faced me and grabbed my hands. Even though he was dressed up in a suit, his comfortable personality showed through. I slowly leaned forward, and our foreheads touched. The fact that I had never kissed someone before never crossed my mind and the sweet taste of his juicy lips filled me. My plump lips pressed against his, and I had never felt such an amazing sensation. This moment was limitless as I kissed the boy I loved. Joy and pleasure coursed through me. For a moment, we were two roaring and passionate souls in a soft embrace. For a moment, everything felt normal once more.

    "Rose, will you be my girlfriend?" 

     "Yes?" Isaac asked impatiently, glancing up from his work. The man had barged into his office with a worried expression. He straightened out his crisp suit and swallowed before taking a long breath. The man was calm, as he had been trained, but a soft nervousness fluttered through him. He was Isaac's right-hand man, regardless of the fact that merely seeing Isaac terrified him beyond his wits.

     "Antonio got caught," He said tentatively. At this, Isaac forcefully dropped the pen in his hand, leaving a stroke of black ink on the page he had been writing on. The chair he sat on crashed onto the floor behind him, shattering into multiple pieces. Isaac was furious. His best agent couldn't even maneuver Stark Industries. He ran out of his office, and he entered the captive's rooms. His men knew to place the traitor here, where he would be strapped up to a chair and gagged. On Isaac's way there, people flinched out of his way. They peeped cautiously at him and then hastily returned to their work.

     The man was battered, and the Avengers logo that had been branded on his arm stuck out. The room that he was situated in was cold and became dulled beneath a blinding white light that came from a square fixture of fluorescent light above him. Isaac ripped the gag out of the traitor's mouth forcefully, and a yell followed suit. The poor man was terrified of Isaac, and he knew that these were his last minutes to live.

     "I told you the consequences, Antonio, and what did you do? How is your daughter, Sarah? The security cameras show that she's sleeping at a friend's house tonight. I can never forget those nice blue eyes and that thin blonde hair. She'd make perfect bait for Pierre Hanks, don't you think? You remember him. Drug dealer, child predator, human trafficker. It's a match made in heaven. And as for your wife..." He grabbed the man's chin and yanked his head up to face him. "Your precious wife."

     "Why, why do you threaten people's family? You're weak," Antonio said forcefully, wondering why Isaac had to threaten and tear apart families. However, his curiosity was a mistake. Soon enough, he saw himself parallel to the barrel of a gun. Isaac was ruthless, and he knocked Antonio beside the head with its side. The hard metal struck him, and sobs left his mouth.

     "Through the years that I've worked here, I've learned one thing about threatening people. There are two ways you can get something out of someone... You can threaten them, or you can bribe them."

     Crack, the butt of Isaac's gun slammed into his forehead.

     "With bribing, you lose something. With threatening, they do."

    Crack, Isaac hit him again. At this action, Isaac saw blood slowly creep out of Antonio's mouth.

     "You bribe them, they can go to the authorities. You threaten them, and you can."

     The man was pitiful, and his scornful expression was hidden behind his thick blood. Antonio gasped for air, and his screams filled Isaac's ear, a sweet symphony. Isaac resented traitors, his mother had been a traitor. Isaac waltzed around the room, and a grin stretched across his face as he heard the bellows of his captive. It was justice, he was serving justice. The man was only tying down his own family. Isaac was a hero.

     The man screamed, "Get it over with."

     Isaac moved in front of Antonio and yanked his hair to angle his head upwards. It was pointless, Isaac trying to inflict pain on him. It was like beating a dead horse. Isaac shifted forward until they were inches apart, and he whispered words so quietly that they were muted beneath the beating of Antonio's heart. Isaac took his time to form his words and slowly blinked. By the time he opened his eyes again, Antonio was silent. The man trembled, and tears glossed his pitch black eyes.

     He said, "I don't think you deserve a quick death. Quick deaths are for heroes. I'll be back tomorrow so we can have more fun together."

     And Isaac left, closing the door. He wore a smile. Who wouldn't? Not when you perceived yourself to be the hero.