Spider-Man: At breaking point

Chapter3: The First Attack

Two weeks had passed since Mary Jane walked out of Peter’s life, leaving him to grapple with the emptiness that seemed to grow each day. The city hadn’t given him a break, and neither had his responsibilities as Spider-Man. But nothing had prepared him for the arrival of a new threat—a villain who would push him to his limits like never before.

They called him The Reaper.

The Reaper’s suit was a twisted reflection of Spider-Man’s own costume, but where Peter’s suit symbolized hope and heroism, The Reaper’s exuded dread. His outfit was an ominous blend of sleek black and dark, muted grey, with accents of blood red running down the arms and legs like rivulets of spilled life. The suit was armored, but flexible, designed for agility and protection. The fabric had a matte finish, absorbing light rather than reflecting it, allowing The Reaper to blend seamlessly into the shadows.

The mask was the most unsettling part of his attire. It was a full-face helmet, completely covering his features, with a blackened visor where his eyes should have been. The visor gave the impression of staring into an endless void, as though the man behind the mask was nothing more than a ghost—a specter of death. The mouth was a grim, thin line, permanently sealed in a cold, expressionless sneer. The mask had no mouthpiece, no visible openings, yet when The Reaper spoke, his voice was a chilling whisper, like the rustle of dry leaves on a cold autumn night.

Across his chest was an emblem—a stylized scythe, the blade curved menacingly, cutting across his torso. The scythe symbol wasn’t just for show; it was a reminder of what The Reaper represented: death, finality, the end of the line for anyone who crossed him.

In his hand, The Reaper wielded a weapon that complemented his terrifying persona—a long, retractable scythe with a serrated edge, made of a material as dark and foreboding as his suit. When retracted, it looked like a simple staff, but with a flick of his wrist, the blade would snap out, ready to claim its next victim.

This was a villain who didn’t just seek to defeat Spider-Man; he sought to destroy everything Peter Parker had ever stood for. And his first target was someone Peter had saved in the past, though Peter wouldn’t realize it until it was too late.

The attack came without warning. The Reaper struck in the dead of night, descending upon an unsuspecting victim in a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. The man—a former gang member turned witness who had once been saved by Spider-Man—had rebuilt his life, hoping to leave his dark past behind. But The Reaper knew his history, and he knew exactly how to make Peter suffer.

In a matter of minutes, the man’s home was reduced to rubble. The Reaper moved with lethal precision, leaving no trace of his presence save for the destroyed house and the haunting symbol of the scythe carved into the rubble. The man was left barely alive, terrified and broken, his new life shattered.

By the time Spider-Man arrived on the scene, alerted by the destruction, there was nothing he could do. The police were already on-site, baffled by the attack. Peter scanned the area, his heart pounding as he took in the devastation. Something about this felt different, more personal—but he couldn’t place it.

He didn’t know it yet, but The Reaper’s game had just begun, and Peter Parker was about to face a nightmare like none he had ever encountered before.