The World I Knew [Discontinued]

Initial Spreading

If you told Peter Parker that zombies were real two weeks ago, he would've laughed, and said it was a nice joke, and then never think twice about it.

THE WARNING STILL WOULD'VE BEEN REALLY APPRECIATED!

At least then he would've been a little more prepared to see blood and limbs everywhere, and have every single New Yorker on his tail! Like, JJJ was bad enough, but this was just insane!

But noooooo! No one bothered to tell him. Hahaha Life, very funny! Joke's over! You got him! Very funny!

No, seriously, stop it.

At least let him get his web shooters on!

Don't just make the zombies chase him, give him a moment! Is that too much to ask?

Huh. Apparently.

"Just hang on a moment!" Peter yelped, dashing through the halls of his school, fumbling with his web shooters as angry, green, zombified teenagers ran after him.

Wow. Zombies were faster than movies made them out to be. And smarter. And persistent.

Man, was Peter lucky he could run at 200 miles an hour.

His web shooters clicked into place just as he shoved through the front doors shoulder-first, and stumbled—almost falling—down the stairs, before springing back to his feet, and dodging the green hands of more zombies.

His heart shattered when he caught Ned amongst them. Missing both his right hand, and a big chunk of his leg, as well as a fair amount of his side.

He stumbled again and almost fell over again, had he not shot a web to pull himself up and away, getting higher and higher as he went, out of reach of the zombified reaching for him, growling and snarling, teeth gnashing.

It hurt to see his beloved city like this, a great sea of the hopeless and zombies, and there was nothing he could do about it. No one had prepared him for this, for the missing limbs, for the gore, for the dismembered. The pain of that only added to the mounting anguish of losing his only friend, and the fact that he couldn't see a speck of healthy, unmaimed flesh. He couldn't let that sink in just yet, though. He had to get somewhere safe. Though, once he started thinking, he couldn't stop.

He crashed on the tallest roof he could find with a grunt, wincing as the skin on his palms tore open from trying to stop his fall. He laid there for a minute, listening to the wind, before getting back up, cradling his bleeding hands to his chest, and walked to the edge, trembling as he watched what was happening below.

The sounds of the dead did not reach him all the way up there, and no one ever looked up to see him. It was just him, alone, on a concrete roof, high above a shifting and moving sea of apocalyptic creatures. It truly was the end of the world, it seemed.

Then, a scream, faint and far away, reached him.

A group of five or six girls, probably in college, were clustered together against the building he was on, surrounded by zombies.

He watched, unable to do anything else, as the girls clung to each other, before being attacked savagely, dropping like flies.

Peter sank to his knees, staring. "No," he moaned, anguish taking place in his heart. "Please, no. I can't—please don't let me be the last one alive. Please." He knew he'd rather join everyone down there than be alone, but he had to find out if there was anyone else he could save, before deciding to give up.

So, he stood up, closing his eyes so he could pretend, just for a moment more, that the world hadn't just been broken.

His spider sense spiked.