Peter Parker, in his early twenties, has only carried the mantle for around six years, finds himself in a cat-and-mouse chase with an ever-encroaching serial killer who is seemingly targeting only the lowest of scum in the city-criminals. Even so, t...
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Perched atop the police station, Peter picked in frustration at his dark brown hair.
"Damnit," he said aloud. He collected the money and left it in front of the police station, with a little note reading, "Found your bag —Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man."
"I'll mention it to Tereasa later," he grimaced, his face still hidden beneath his mask; Black Cat had slipped through his fingers yet again. And worse, she slipped away with millions of dollars. He would need to track her down eventually, but right now, he needed to pick up Aunt May.
Landing in a dimly lit alley, he swiftly tucked his suit into his backpack, donning his usual attire. — a simple T-shirt and jeans — and slinging the camera around his neck. Transforming from the spectacular Spider-Man to just Peter Parker
The evening air was sparsely crisp, his breath filling the air with clouds of white mist. Nightfall had overtaken the evening, and the orange glow of the set sun over the horizon painted a breathtaking scene all over the city. Even under the cloak of darkness, the city sparkled like a lit-up Christmas tree.
Peter slipped into the station and picked up Teresa's car keys, heading straight for the car garage on the side of the building. The car was old but functional. It was a 1989 Dodge Lancer Shelby, dark grey with a striking blue strip right through the side. It had been Uncle Ben's old car, which he gave Teresa as a present for graduating from the police academy.
She had always been his favorite, which makes sense, considering the fact that she was a spitting image of him. Not that Peter needed the car anyway; his apartment was in the city, and his job was mostly "remote," not to mention the fact that he could probably swing across the state in a single afternoon.
While Uncle Ben was a devout public servant, Aunt May was nothing to scoff at. Back in her day, she worked as an EMT, retiring soon after her husband's return from overseas, who served in the Navy. Aunt May dedicates much of her time to volunteering at "Feast." An organization founded by prominent businessman Martin Lee that aims to assist the displaced and needy.
Peter and Tereasa had always looked up to her. She was a devout Christian woman who instilled the importance of doing the right thing from a young age into the two. Although they have drifted from religious practices, her teachings have stuck with them, given who they've become. A public servant and a so-so vigilante.
He parked just under the two-story building, which had a relatively clean set of stairs leading up to a building covered in glass. Just in front stood a familiar lady; it was Aunt May. She had been standing outside helping lock up with the other volunteers. While Feast was open 24 hours a day, they locked the doors at night for "safety" reasons; it was New York, after all. Her face lit up upon seeing her nephew approach.
"Oh, Peter! You're just on time," Aunt May said, pulling Peter into a warm hug. "How was your day, dear?"
Peter smiled. "It was quite the shock at the bank today—"
