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the-crimson-crawler · 6 months ago

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chapter 2 No Sleep

Freezing midnight air washed over Spider-Man as he sat perched atop a rooftop in East Harlem. A benefit of being this high up had always been how connected it made everything seem. It worked to help Peter visualize the magnitude of the lives intertwined with each other and how they all coexisted next to each other, rarely interacting. In the way a freebooter tosses a wrench into the lives of those he robs, Spider-Man serves to assist his fellow man and make the flow of movement in the city well oiled and fluid. No perch was like this one, however. About 20 meters away, across the street from the building the webslinger sat across was another, almost identical, brick faced building that Peter called home. This perch didn't come with the benefit of being able to perceive magnificent machinations of society, it isolated him. It narrowed his perception down into just himself creating an infinite mirror box of memories. The roaring current of the last few years wailed all at once. There’s plenty to say about the state of mind and what it means and what it represents, but Peter Parker was unequipped to process this noise. All he could make out was an unrelenting storm, leading him to dissociate for several hours. When they’d arrived at their perch the sun was still out, but by now the moon had more than outweighed its time in the sky.

The desire for sleep was finally beginning to weigh heavy on his eyelids, sleep deprivation had been an ongoing fight for the past week but every night he lost easier and easier, sleep was becoming an enemy. It wasn’t safe to sleep here, Peter had to exit his own mind and actually acknowledge the building. His window was left ajar and a straight shot across from where he sat. Peter got up then launched back several meters from the ledge of his seat onto the gravel rooftop, skidding stones behind him. After a deep breath he focused in on the window, swallowed a deep breath, then began a breakneck sprint towards the ledge. From about six feet from the lip of the building he leapt hands first onto it and launched himself across the street. Air roared into his ear as the window approached him. The wind ceased as he breached the barrier of his home. Barely having lost any speed, he braced before hitting the floor and rolled across it, slamming into the wall with a sharp thud.

Spider-Man's Lair was a disheveled wreck. Cracks in the paint and plaster ran up the wall where Peter had been throwing himself for the past week. Holes where shelves and posters were once mounted blistered the walls, the shelves and their contents strewn across the baseboards of the wall along the floor. A solid oak writers table sat pathetically crumbled in half next to the door leading to the rest of the apartment, which Peter had avoided opening in over a week. Along the wall with the window he’d come through was a large pile of bedding with its destroyed bed frame missing its mattress, which was laid vertically on the adjacent wall. Panting, Peter pulled off his mask and took in the view of his rage induced mess before glancing at the mattress against the wall. Peter snapped a strand of webbing to the top of the bed then haphazardly yanked it to the ground with so much force that it kicked up the paper and trash strewn around the room. Without acknowledging the excessive force, Peter flopped himself onto the bed and fell asleep.

Dismembered bodies were something Peter Parker had seen plenty of in his tenure as Spider-Man. He'd been getting used to the site of them since he had his arm ripped off by a reptilian creature at the start of his web slinging career and the sight of them had only increased since then, but at first glance of the photos laid out in front of him made him vomit onto his own chest and lap. Peter's flesh was terribly burned, aside from the puss and ooze it was clearly moving as ruined tissue rebuilt itself assisted by several iv drips feeding into his body. He found himself in a small steel box of a room barely clothed, wearing the vestiges of his burnt red and blue costume, and a hospital gown. His bare ass was sticking to the cold steel chair he was restrained in with normal handcuffs. They were more of a statement to his arrest than actual restraints, he could snap them easily. Behind him in the corner was a masked SHIELD agent with a large riot gun staring past him at the wall. To his left was a one way mirror and across from him on the opposite end of the table stood a greasy SHIELD agent who had been interrogating Spider-Man for the past several hours. The agent had a broad build and medium length dirty blonde hair greased back by pomade accompanied by a horseshoe mustache. Arms crossed he stared bullets into the disfigured hero.

“Nothing else to add Parker?” he got back into his chair and folded his arms. “I don’t believe you. I do not believe that you were entirely unaware of what you’ve been doing for the past two months.” The agent's stared sternly at Peter and adjusted his posture. “This black suit shit is ridiculous. At the same time as your ‘uncontrollable rampage’ we’ve got you going to work, we've got you at several bodegas, we’ve got you at helping at FEAST, but you're going to look at me and tell me that you were some beast hell-bent on lethal justice?” His brows furrow more than they already had been,“ you want to tell me you were ‘totally consumed’ and ‘ the last thing I remember was losing control to the beast within.’ ITS CORNBALL HORSE SHIT!” he slammed his fists on the table. Peter flinched at the sound, heat flooded his body, and his mind was lit ablaze. His face became flushed, felt as if knives slid into his body, he began to cry. “Oh, fuck you Spider-Man!” The agent scoffed at Peter. “At least nineteen men are dead and missing and you're finally deciding to feel some guilt, huh?” He gets up from his seat again and furrows his eyebrows, clearly rolling thoughts of what to say next around in his mind. “ I don't know what anyone else sees in you. You are a dangerous loose canon and if it were up to me, you'd be on the raft with the rest of you ‘super’ powered menaces that plague society.-” Before he can continue ranting at Peter he is cut off by a loud buzzer that shrieked through the interrogation room accompanied by the lights slamming off, an echo of the alarm reverberating through the now infinitely black darkness.

A heavy slithering sound dragged across the floor alongside footsteps and labored breathing. Circling around Peter, it got louder and louder as it wound closer and closer to him. With all the strength he could manage, Parker tugged his arms up from the chair, but his measly handcuffs didn’t budge. The creature chuckled at Peter's struggle as he kept trying to break free from the chair. Their kicking and jostling made the chair tip over, slamming him onto the ground. The hulking creature made its final approach towards Peter, unable to do anything. It reached over, grabbed the chair, then stood it back up. Peter could feel the beast’s hot breath as it stared at him with piercing yellow eyes. “Spider-man~” spat a deep, slow, guttural voice. “What did you tell me when we first met? Hm?” It had the hint of a faded Dutch accent identifying it as Dr. Curt Conners, The Lizard-Man. Behind them, an old-fashioned projector flickered to life casting some of its light over Peter and Dr. Connors, revealing his gravely green scaled face. It smiled at Parker as the projector began playing Spider-Man's memories from their first encounter. The voice of a 15-year-old Peter Parker spoke, “I’ve read a lot about you Dr. Conners! You aren’t the same anymore! That serum’s turned you into a monster!” The lizard spoke over the projection “My work has turned me into a monster, yeah?” the beast inquired. “The work you stole from me? What a surprise” it let out a throaty chuckle. Peter grit his teeth at the lizard and averted his eyes. Lizard leaned closer to Parkers face. Its face contorted with anger then gripped Peter by the wrists. “I will get an response out of you Spider-Man.” it snarled through gritted teeth

The Lizardman backed away from Peter, its scales smoothed and turned inky black as their tattered lab clothes faded into his body creating a well-defined silhouette of a hulking monster. Peter's heart began beating out of his chest, his ears started ringing, and he began seeing double and then triple. The figure kept growing, its torso and arms becoming larger in proportion to the Lizard. Peter began thrashing in the chair but had no new luck breaking his restraints. From the head of the silhouette opened two large glowing white slits that stretched across the sides of its head. Peter attempted several more jostles in the chair and finally broke free from the measly handcuffs but just as he did so the beast shot its arm towards him and ejected a thick garbled rope of black goo that snatched Peter by the chest. The beast gripped his web and ripped spider-man from the chair slamming him into its breast, coating Peter with black goo. Peter wailed as he began sinking into the giant beast. The beast lurched back and roared with a cacophony of laughter. Peter kept thrashing his arms and straining his voice before being hit with one more giant wave of panic and terror. Vision doubling, tripling, quadrupling. Heart pounding, ears ringings, and senses screaming in agony. “YOU'RE A MONSTER SPIDER-MANNN!” the beast let out a deep loud roar that Peter could feel rumbling from within the beast's body. Peter caught one last glimpse at his memories being projected onto the wall before fully submerging into the creature.

“It’s Spider-man!” “Wow look it is! Is that a new costume?” “Hey Spider-man!”

Multiple pedestrians outside Peter's house had woken him up from his terrible sleep. The dread of his dream quickly shifted to the confusion of the moment as he quickly got up from his mattress on the floor and stumbled over to his window to check out the commotion outside. A man running on top of a building the road leaped from one roof to another dressed in a nearly identical costume to Peter's last one but with its colors swapped and a hole revealing the new spider-man's face. It's Spider-Man?! Who is that? Before peter could have another thought the imposter shot a web from his wrist and latched on the building neighboring peters, leapt from the roof, and swung up the road the same way that he would have. AND HE HAS WEBS TOO? Given entirely no time to process the nightmare he’d just had, Spider-Man picked up his mask from off the floor and pulled it over his face. He quickly planted his feet into the ground before leaping out of his window, using a web midair to grab onto a building, and began tailing the new spider. ________________________________________

A short one that honestly took so long cause i was putting off painting a thumbnail for, and still am haha, so heres the text! i'll release the sketch of the thumbnail soon since its got a neat design in it

#literature #spiderman #spider man #spiderman fanfiction #spider man fanfiction

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the-crimson-crawler · 7 months ago

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The Smell of Fear

Chapter 1 Six Months

The sound of wet drips hitting the concrete. The warm fluid flowing over his chest and hands. The foul taste flooded Peter's mouth The fading smell of fear. The visage of his-

“HEY SPIDER-MAN!” a portly New York cop wearing a puffy windbreaker beckoned for Peter Parker's attention. His jacket sleeves made a silky noise as he waved his arms at the webslinger Spider-Man had been crouched on top of a street light staring at traffic for the past 40 minutes. He’d completely ignored several passersby up until this point, acknowledging the officer was just a force of habit. “Where’ve ya been!” The officer beckoned again, “Some freak monster was terrorizing the city for a whole month! SHIELD took care of it but we could’ve really used your help!” the officer pocketed his hands and looked up at the crimson crawler. Parker's crimson eyes stared back at the cop devoid of any expression. “I'm sorry.” Their voice was stiff and cold, barely loud enough for the officer to hear, but luckily he’d caught the response. “It's no worry Spider-Man! I don't think it even hurt anyone, but it was scary!” the portly officer had entered bad small talk territory but he didn't know if he’d ever get to speak to Spider-Man again so he just kept looking up to him waiting for a response instead of moving on with his morning routine. Parker nodded his head “I'm glad no one was hurt, sir.” “Well,” the cop removed his hands from their pockets and gently patted his hips and looked side to side across the intersection, “see you Spider-Man! Have a nice day okay!” The cop entered the shop behind the street light and left the Crimson Crawler to himself.

Peter slowly rose from his gargoyle position, his legs were quivering as he fully stood up. He was terribly shaken from the officers' mention of his absence and the incident with the monster SHIELD had taken care of. Craning his neck up to the nearest highrise they considered whether or not they should leave their perch. The officer would come out of the shop eventually and he’d hate to have to talk to him again after the dry conversation they’d just had. Decision made, he raised his hand and a thick cable of silk ejected from their wrist that smacked into the highrise. Spider-Man held it tight and tugged it taut before stepping off the street light and swinging into West Queens.

It's late fall in New York city, winter is right around the corner and it feels like everyone is preparing for Christmas just a little bit early this year. Crime has been at an all time low, there hasn't been some cataclysmic world event in just over six months, and the city is celebrating the election of its newest mayor, Jefferson Davis, who won a landslide election following the exposure of his opponent, millionaire Daniel Rand. Nothing bad has happened in ages and being Spider-Man should be easier than ever, but there is something negging at Peter Parker. A dark cloud hangs heavy over the crimson crawler that he thinks no one has noticed. Peter slowly opened a glass door into the office of J. Jonah Jameson. He wore an old flannel jacket that had a grey hoodie underneath it. A small stack of papers and a usb stick were tucked under his arm. He strengthened his poor posture leading into greeting the editor of the Daily Bugle but right as he opened his mouth to speak he was interrupted. “Parker! There you are! Who knew we gave bereavement pay to interns!” Jonah released a quick hearty chuckle and planted both his fists into his sides. “You're back early, how are you handling things son?” Jameson never seemed to let his high attitude down at the office, so asking Peter how he felt caught him off guard. “Im,- i'm not handling it well sir, but i’ve gotta get a grip on things and have to move on” he quickly glanced around. Maybe that was a little too forward, showing vulnerability like that. I should've just said I was fine and ready to work. “I've got… bills and stuff to take care of” “I can respect that.” Jonah briefly paused. “I Know it's hard now son, but trust me, things will get better” Jonah gathered a few pieces of paper into his hands and smacked them on his desk to level them into a neat stack. “I've got a few gigs I need photographed today, you've got the first pick from these.” “Actually sir, i've brought you some pictures of Spider-Man” Peter approached the took a couple steps forward then removed the items from under his arm, handing them over to the editor. “Spider-Man is back?” He practically shouted,” So after having SHIELD do all the work with that howling demon the slacker finally decides to show his face once again!” The sentence was vocalizing the hook to the next slander piece that would appear online about Spider-Man. “Give em here Parker, and get me those pictures from that bookstore opening on 50th and Park. That's the one you’ll wanna take.”

After Peter handed the items over, Jonah flicked his hand towards the door before turning towards his window and looking over the photos Peter had taken. Peter took the bus to that new bookstore he had to take pictures of, he’d been “borrowing” a camera as part of his internship for the better part of 2 years. Peter had gotten into his internship at such a young age due to his connection to the journalist prodigy Mary Jane Watson, whom he had met as a freshman in high-school. MJ was first published in the Daily Bugle at the age of 14 with a small article about local economic fluctuations within NYC’s burrows. The Bugles' more dedicated readers were vocally surprised with her insights compared to her age and it got her several interviews which culminated in a scholarship to Visions Academy. Her good friend Peter took pictures for her articles and subsequently found himself taking photos for the Daily Bugle shortly after. But since Peter had dropped out of school to focus more on being spider-man the only thing keeping the two connected was Mary's deduction to keeping in touch with Peter. When he’d arrived at the bookstore he was very surprised to see Mary waiting for him at the bus stop outside of the bookstore. “Hi Peterrrr!” Marry hung on the last syllable of his name. Peter sighed and tried to smile,”Hi MJayy. I'm gonna guess you're writing a piece on the bookstore?” “I am! And I'm going to guess that you're taking pictures here too?” MJ teased. “Yeah, JJ told me I'd really like this job.” he smirks and lifts his camera up. Through the viewfinder he sees Mary Jane Watson. She had luxurious ruby red hair that contrasted excellently with her pale skin and freckled face. Her outfit consisted of a green blazer over a maroon blouse and high waist slacks with light brown leather boots . She was the same age as Peter, around 18, and almost the same height as him at six foot. She looked stunning. Behind her was a comically large crowd out front of the new bookstore, a stylish logo adorned the outer wall in a deep red cursive text that read Strange Literature. The crowd was more for the owner of the store over the concept of a local cafe bookstore fusion. Peter steadied his hand and took the picture.

MJ chuckled as she handed Peter his press badge. Once he’d put it on Mary took his hand and walked them across the road. Parker instinctively wanted to yank away his hand. She’s too happy to see me. Does she know what happened? Has she heard from someone else? I didn't know Doctor Strange opened a bookstore. Why would a superhero need to open a bookstore in Manhattan let alone The Sorcerer Supreme. Money Laundering? Too much feels surreal right now. This has to be a setup. An intervention. Peter furrowed his eyebrows and focused more on his thoughts. Well…Mary wouldn't be this cheerful if it was though. Maybe it's a coincidence. I should just be happy to see her. Before they've made it across the street he’s accepted the gesture. They brushed through the swarm of people outside and made their way to a fenced off patio which had a file line leading out the door. As they approached the entrance Mary held out her badge to a doorman and Peter did the same. They continued into the shop and were greeted by a voice familiar to Spider-Man. “Ms. Watson, welcome,” greeted the deep and modulated voice of Stephen Strange. He wore his iconic red cloak over a deep blue casual suit. With a pleasant smile he continued, “it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” MJ approached him and put out her hand. “The pleasure is mine Doctor Stra– – -” She stutters and is cut off as all saturation fades away alongside the halting echoes of the idle sounds surrounding Peter and Stephen, who still remain fully intact full of color and sound. The world around them became dull and somewhat fractured. Peter's heightened senses seemed to take a long deep breath over the lack of activity of anything in the air. He looked over to MJ, whose hand was still outstretched to shake her interviewees hand. Intervention, I knew it.

The Magicians scarred hands glowed with the light of magic projected rings. “Come take a seat with me Parker” Strange gestured over to a small cafe built into the corner of the dual-story bookstore. In the seating area sat two cups of steaming coffee on a small circular oak table. Strange pulled out the chairs for both of them with a wave of his hand and they took their seats. Strange opens “I heard about your uncle Peter.” he rested his hands beside the steaming cup “I know it must be hard but we need to talk about it.” Peter's face flushes red and he fights back tears. after stuttering he blurts out,”I-I- I don’t know what happened!” Stranges' eyebrows lowered and came together slightly, “I know Peter, but we gotta try and piece together what happened.” Peter looked longingly at Stephen as if begging to know why they must talk about this now “SHIELD has yet to locate that parasite and now their attention has returned to you, they’ve questioned me on how I felt about your competence, but I haven't seen you since the invasion six months ago. None of us have,” he sighs “I want to keep you off that raft peter. And I need you to communicate with me to do that.” Pete chuckles “I didn't know you had a doctorate in psychology” letting a smile escape and a joke out felt good but it quickly faded as the gravity of the situation reemerged. “I wish it wasn't me stephen.” he took a pause. "I've been thinking about it.” Stephen slightly tilted his head “what wasn't?” he asked, knowing the answer.

Peter adjusted his posture and contemplated how he wanted to continue. The answer felt sacrilegious but he knew just how to say it “Spider-Man.” Strange sighed heavily “I don't think anyone else could be Spider-Man, Peter. You have an excellent sense of justice. Your passion and drive to continue doing the right thing rivals even some of the Avengers. So much can be said about your quick thinking and decision making. The self sacrifice you commit every day is insane. You are so noble and selfless, I don’t know how anyone else could've been a better Spider-man.” A small silence was shared between them. The only discernible sensations were the smell of the untouched cups of coffee and their heat. “It was this ~sludge~ from a wreck.” Spider-Man broke the silence “I watched it slink over to me, it steadily approached and I didn't move. I felt attuned to it. Mesmerized, like it called to me.” Peter spoke slowly and carefully, his eyes looked detached from his mind staring deeply into the swirling coffee.

“Your sense?” Strange asked. Peter's eyes slowly tracked back up to meet Stephens. “Yeah. sort of.”he said calmly “in a way i’d never felt before. It felt like longing, like a part of me I didn't know was missing. Like kin. I was completely ensnared. Not by charm but by this guttural desire to bond with it.” “And it claimed you?” Stephen cut in , he hoped that was the case as opposed to willingly adopting it. “no. I put my hand onto the ground and let it onto my hand. It slowly slinked up my forearm and it sank into me.” He finally reached for his cup of coffee. “It was a part of me and I didn’t even mind. Like an immediate bond.” Stephen tried to hide his shock at the nonchalance of Peter's confession. But it was hardly stifled. Spider-man clocked it and made an expression closely akin to puppy dog eyes. “I regret it.” He took a large sip. Stephen mimicked the action after Peter finishes his. An obvious move to get Spider-Man to continue speaking. “What does your relationship to magic feel like Doctor Sorcerer Supreme? I felt like Spider-Supreme with this thing" Stephen sat up and adjusted his composure knowing he could answer this question well. “It feels like discipline. Like taming waves. I surf the ebbs and flows of the magical realms that exist alongside our reality. Although other sorcerers seek out to use the magic as a crutch to their own greed like I once did when I first sought out the school of sorcery. But succumbing to that greed led many great sorcerers to their demise.” Peter lets out another chuckle “like crack” Stephen returns the smile, “like crack yes.” still smiling, Peter continues. “I wasn't taming any waves, Stephen. It felt like I was a hurricane. A beast from beyond, given more means to meet my ends. More justice. I felt tuned perfectly. It felt good and I liked it. But-” he paused and his small smile dropped. He returned to staring at the moving fluid in his mug “then I hurt someone. I don't even remember who it was or why but they-they didn't deserve it” his eyebrows furrow, “and then I struggle to remember. I no longer am the hurricane, I become lost to it…” he tears up “and I-I-I don't know what happ-" Stephen leaned over the table and rested his left hand on Spider-Mans’ shoulder. “I understand Peter, I'm very sorry” Stephen got up from his chair and stepped close to Peter, who almost threw his chair aside to get up and embrace Stephen in a hug. He sobbed quietly into the cloak of levitation. “- – – ange, i'm excited to interview you today for the Daily Bugle!” Mary Jane shook Doctor Stranges hand, he nodded at her as she let go. “And this is my photographer Peter Parker!” She gestures to where Peter once stood but is bewildered by his absence, “Did you see Peter he was just here?” “I believe I just saw Mr. Parker take our picture and head outside to get some exterior photos of the store.” Strange politely states. “Oh. That's weird.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you read this far, thank you so much! I really appreciate it.

I plan on making the second chapter in a day or two so expect something again by next week the latest <3

#spider man #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #spider man fanfiction #crimson crawler #literature

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