Chapter Text
Everything was hazy when he finally opened his eyes, the world nothing more than a blur. His body felt stiff and his fingers were cold, but if he were in pain, he wasn’t feeling it yet so he guessed he could count himself lucky for that one.
He pushed himself up onto his elbows, the act taking much more energy that what would usually be necessary and fuck, oh god, yeah there the pain was. A sharp hiss left his mouth as an intense pain shot through his side and it took everything in him not to just fall back down onto the ground.
He glanced down at his arms, taking in the strange red and black that trailed down his skin, covering his hands. It was basically metal, with the way the streaks of moonlight reflected off of it. This wasn’t normal clothing, right?
“Where am I?” He whispered to himself, bringing his hand to his forehead. He looked around, though his surroundings weren’t very visible due to the lack of lighting. The only idea he had as to his location was the dirt beneath his gloved fingertips and the smell of rotting wood in there– so not much, really. How did he get here? Even better– what happened to get him here?
That was probably the million dollar question because if he thought real hard about it, the last thing he remembered was…wait, what did he remember? His head felt painfully blank and he was struck with the awful realization that he didn’t even know his own name. His eyebrow twitched, something itching in the corners of his mind when a thud sounded from somewhere in the distance.
His head shot up, alarm running through his body and he was quick to scramble backwards under his back hit a wall. There was no time to panic right now.
Another thud, this time louder.
He pushed himself up, bracing himself against the wall. His head was already fuzzy and on top of that, the air was stinging the cuts on his face but adrenaline was pumping through his veins.
“Well, well, well” a deep voice crowed, “What do we have here?”
In the distance of what he was beginning to recognize as a barn stood a man in a black muscle shirt, his face illuminated by the moonlight peeking through holes in the wall. He had light curly hair and a thick mustache, but what stood out even more was the utterly sinister expression he wore.
With wide eyes, he stared down the figure, heart beating impossibly fast and the voice inside his head was screaming danger. danger. DANGER!
The Man turned his head to the side, looking off at something unseen and his head slowly tilted in a way that felt disturbing. He followed the Man’s line of sight and suddenly, it was like the air grew thinner and static was flooding his ears. For a second, it was almost like someone else was there.
But just as quickly as the moment started, it ended and The Man was taking a step closer to him, a smile growing across his lips but he looked anything but friendly.
“There’s something different about you,” The Man took in a deep breath through his nose, “Something…special. He wants to meet you.”
The way the last part was said sent a chill down his spine, the utter of He making something curl uncomfortably in his stomach.
“I think I’m okay,” The words were tumbling out of his mouth before he even thought about it, “Raincheck?”
The Man’s eye twitched and that’s when he noticed the way the Man’s pupils were completely blown. What the fuck?
Without another word, the Man lunged forward and it was instinct that had him leaping away into a barrel roll, just out of reach. Something about his own movements were sluggish though, the pain of whatever led him to this moment slowing him down.
Despite avoiding the initial attack, he could feel a hand grasp tightly around his ankle, the hold so strong that he swore he could feel his bones cracking just a little under the pressure.
A strangled cry left his mouth as the Man pulled back roughly, though instead of being dragged back, he was held in place by the way the pads of his palms and fingertips stuck to the splintered wood hidden beneath the layer of dirt.
“Holy shit,” He breathed and it seemed both him and the Man were equally shocked.
Taking the moment of surprise for what it was, he twisted himself around to yank his leg out of the Man’s grasp and kicked his other leg out— right into his chest and sending backwards.
Despite getting sent to the ground, the Man only cackled before his face went completely expressionless, like a switch flipped. Suddenly, he was back on his feet and even with the voice yelling MOVE MOVE MOVE, the Man was in front of him within seconds.
It was already apparent that the voice inside of his head was trying to help him, but between the haze behind his eyes and the pain shooting beginning to amplify throughout his body, focusing was difficult— so instead of moving, he found himself pressed against the barn wall, the Man’s hand wrapped tightly around his neck, his fingernails digging painfully into his skin.
The metal of the suit he was wearing extended up his neck but provided no protection, bending and pressing painfully into his neck with how hard he was being choked.
“No!” He writhed, struggling against the hold, but there was something inhuman about the Man’s strength. “Someone help me!”
The Man grinned, pulling him slightly away from the wall before slamming him back into it.
“No one is coming for you,” The Man said with faux sympathy, “No one is going to help you. You’re all alone.”
He hadn’t even been awake five minutes and here he was, about to die without even knowing his own name.
Black spots invaded his vision.
“Hello! Please. I’m down here. I’m stuck. I’m stuck. I can’t move. I can’t…”
Something pulled at him, his own voice echoing throughout his mind. Like the beginnings of a memory.
He writhed, gasping and coughing as the grip tightened. “No,” He wheezed, kicking his leg out and clipping the Man in the hip but it did little to stop him. He knew that he was stronger than this, he couldn’t die like this.
“Come on, Peter,” The memory whispered to him, “Come on, Spider-Man.”
Peter. That was him.
Peter closed his eyes, going limp in the Man’s hold and he could practically feel his satisfaction. In the height of the Man’s pride, Peter burst to life and swung his fist outwards, connecting it hard against his temple.
“Goddammit!” The Man yelled, his hand dropping to grasp at his head.
Peter coughed as air flooded into his lungs, already feeling the soreness of his throat as he fell to his knees but he knew that he didn’t have time to recover.
DUCK.
He dropped right as the Man lunged for him again, his arms passing just above his head. It seemed that The Man hadn’t needed much time to recover from the blow to the head, despite the trickle of blood that trailed from his hairline.
Peter didn’t wait this time, sweeping his leg out to hook it around the Man’s ankles and pulling his legs out from under him, sending him down into the ground with a hard thud.
“You cannot hide from us,” The Man growled, though now he sounded breathless. He was already beginning to push himself up onto his forearms.
“Yeah, well,” Peter croaked, “It’s at least worth a try right?” He asked before grasping the collar of the man’s shirt and cracking his head against the ground.