Getting knocked out and kidnapped was not his idea of spending a Friday. He woke up to dim lit surroundings. His mouth was gagged with a cloth and his hands were very much tied, bounded tightly with rope that evyyery inch he moved, the rough material cut deeper into his bare wrists.
His vision began to return bit by bit and he found himself actually locked inside a cell. A cramped one at that. Now, Peter did not enjoy staying in small spaces, his claustrophobia was a huge issue when it came to that.
"Ah. Mr Parker. I see you're awake." Peter panicked. He felt his face for his mask but found none. His identity had been compromised. Badly. And he was in a whole lot of trouble. Calling in the team for back-up would be out of the question. They would surely have his head for patrolling solo. Again.
"You are a very valuable specimen to us, Peter Parker. My associates and I have recently taken a keen interest in your unique web like abilities, and so would like to study them thoroughly. With your co-operation, of course. Take him away."
Peter felt a sharp pain in his neck. It was a tranquilizer dart. A very strong one at that. Whoever the enemy were, they obviously came well prepared. Usually, his body would be able to fight off the effects of a tranquilizer dart, but this one made him feel drowsy. He felt another jab in his left arm and his vision started fogging up again. The last thing he did was send a distress signal using his suit back to JARVIS, hoping for back-up to arrive. Without knowing what lay ahead of him, he slipped into the dark.
They took him to a musty old cell that reeked tobacco. Blood stains and eerie fingernail scratches littered the dark concrete walls like carvings of an old tablet. It showed how much it's previous inhabitants suffered in this place. Peter felt the need to curl up and cry, but he wouldn't. No. He would stay strong.
He was postive they were HYDRA soldiers. But they didn't wear or own anything that was HYDRA related. They didn't say, "Hail Hydra." like the other HYDRA agents he had encountered with in the past so that was only a theory.
They took him out to a lab to run some tests. First, they tested his reflexes. They hit him with simulation after simulation, not even allowing him a few breaks in between to catch his breath. Whenever he refused to cooperate, he would be kept in line. The scientists there would train him for twelve hours straight, working his body to complete exhaustion that he was barely able to move a muscle by the time they threw him back in his cell.
The next was strength. They brought him to a different lab this time. There, a huge metal block weighing what he assumed would be a ton would be dropped on him. His muscles would twitch when the weight got too heavy, sweat would run profusely down his forehead as he fought against the heavy strain in his arms. Even using his super strength, it was much too heavy.
They would inject some type of drug, probably huge doses of caffeine into his bloodstream to keep him awake at all times to carry out their brutal experiments. He felt tired, but he couldn't sleep. He wanted to close his eyes and wake up from this horrible nightmare but it will never happen.
The third was resistance. They placed him on a metal table with multiple straps restraining both his arms and legs. They were made with thick nylon so he couldn't get out.
Six metal arms surrounded him, all loaded with weapons. He was tested from bullets which he proved to be vulnerable to, to knives that made small cuts. As the days went by, he prayed and prayed. But he was starting to loose hope fast.
His fathers and the team should have been here by now. Did the distress signal not reach the tower? They must have been worried sick for his sudden disappearance. Why didn't they look for him?
No. He told himself. They were probably looking for him. Maybe they recieved the signal but they could not pinpoint his exact location because he was pretty sure that they had dragged him out to a remote area somewhere untraceable. What if they never found him? He didn't want to die here. It would break his family. But it may very well be the case if help didn't arrive soon. He didn't know how long he could keep this up.
Then they did a live dissection. Basically they kept him wide awake on the operating table whilst the scientists sliced him up to poke and prod his insides to find out what makes Spider-Man the way he is.
He remembers smelling his burnt flesh as they cut him up. The nauseating stench of his own blood. He could feel the surgical tools messing around in his body. Sometimes, he would wince when he felt something sharp poke one of his organs. The procedure felt like hours and he just wants to hurl. Wants to cry. He just wants to go home.
Peter sat in his cell. It had a small window and all he could see was snow and more snow beyond the horizon. Maybe he was in Siberia, because he was sure he saw smoke the other day. It may have come from a factory.
How long has it been? Peter looks at the walls where he uses a piece of sharp rock to mark out the days with strokes. He counts them and counts them again. His eyes and brain tells him that it has only been fourteen days, but his gut tells him it's been longer.
His meal comes in through the metal slot at the door. His meals change everyday. Yesterday, it was a subway sandwich, today, it was a piece of raspberry steak. For a place teeming with evil scientists, they sure knew how to treat their prisoners when it came to food.
Peter chewed on his raspberry steak. He felt the tears running down his cheek. The walls talked to him now. They did. He could hear the voices. At first, he thought he was going crazy. Talking to a wall. He made friends with a skeleton held up by cobwebs when he transferred cells at some time during his stay.
He named the skeleton Dan. He talked to it as if it were a living person. The hollow skull of the skeleton would just stare back at him. His or her jaw was missing, he never did manage to find it though. Peter sipped his drink. It was a cherry coke. He savours it like it would be his last drink. It may very well be given the circumstances.
Peter sat in his cell as per usual, talking to Dan. He was telling a joke when the door was pushed open. The same scientist from day one walked in with two other associates beside him. Peter had come to learn his name as Javier. He spoke Russian and Peter understood it thanks to his frequent lessons from his cousins Wanda and Pietro as well as both of his aunt Nat and uncle Bucky.
"Come on man. I was just getting to the good part." He ignored the scoff on Javier's face as he was cuffed and hauled up roughly by his arms. Peter winced as the stitches on his torso from his live dissection (which he prefers not to think about if he can help it) threatens to rip open.
They blindfold him. He doesn't know why but doesn't try to fight back as it would only make things even worse and these people did not tolerate disobedience. He hears someone muttering in Russian and some other language which he thinks is Spanish? He never did do well in Spanish class. Ned was the Spanish expert. All he did was doze off in absolute boredom while Mrs Nuñez drones on and on about whatever was being taught in her class.
He manages to translate a few words in his mind and makes out that he was being taken somewhere to take away his memory? He didn't know, but he did panick. As Peter was being ushered to an unknown location, he silently prayed. He wasn't the religious one. Pop was. But he felt religious now.
Then, they stopped. The blindfold was ripped off his eyes and he could finally see. There standing right in front of him was a chamber. It looked like a pod like the ones he saw in science fiction movies where they kept aliens. He heard some buttons being pushed and the door to the mysterious looking space pod slides open. He was forced into it. This time, Peter fought. If what they said was true, he was going to fight. He didn't want to forget his family. His friends. Anything really. Only the last few days here. He just wanted everything to go back to normal as things should be. Not this.
They strapped him down by his torso and Peter watched in absolute gut wrenching horror as the transparent pod hisses shut, sealing his fate. Peter hears a hissing sound and some sort of gas emerges from both sides near his head. It may be morphine but he isn't so sure. Then, two metal rods emerge from both sides to hold his head in place. Peter watches the scientists converse among themselves in hush whispers. He struggles to decipher their conversation by reading the movement of their lips but it is proven futile.
Then, electricity violently surges through him and he can feel his veins light on fire. His head spins wildly and for the first time since the beginning of his experiment, Peter screams.
