Spider-Man | Doesn't Need Help

CHAPTER 7

  Stressed, I left the classroom, completely oblivious to my surroundings. I tried to make my way as quickly as I could through the crowds of people in the hallways, who were probably in a hurry, just like me. Maybe they just wanted to get home quickly before the weekend? Maybe they had an appointment with someone? There were so many possibilities that if I hadn't asked directly, I wouldn't have known.

  And me?

  And I immediately, even though I didn't want to and felt like I was about to throw up something I had recently eaten, walked briskly towards the ruins.

  Mr. Adams, as it turned out this morning, was supposed to be at what he called his home all weekend, so he told me to come over right after school.

  All day long, I thought about what I'd done recently, but nothing really came to mind. I knew I was going to be punished, but the worst part was that I didn't know why.

  As soon as the white, dilapidated building came into view, I began to feel what I called my sixth sense warning me of some danger.

  I have no idea how it worked, but so far it has been downright reliable.

  I slowly entered, feeling a tingling sensation at the back of my skull that was getting more and more annoying by the second!

  "Peter. To me!" I heard from the living room, where the most unpleasant odor was, and which I could smell even more since my "transformation."

  Adams didn't carry out the body. He didn't tell me to, either, but I guess I'll have to do it eventually if I don't want to end up sick from that stench.

  Trying to delay this moment as much as possible, I entered the room immediately, focusing all my attention on the man in it.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat as I watched this psychopath calmly sharpen his knives, sitting on the couch. I don't know how, or if it was even possible, but the tingling was getting worse, turning into pain.

  “Yes, Mr. Adams?” I began, just wanting to let him know I was here.

  The short-haired one smiled slightly, but this smile was so terrifying that goosebumps instantly appeared all over my body.

  I already knew then that the next few days would not be the most interesting.

  "You know, Peter," he began, emphasizing my name. "I've been having a rough time lately. And I see you're feeling better lately." He raised his head, looking at me with those icy eyes of his.

  My heart began to beat faster and faster. And I don't know if that's normal... But it seemed to me that in those short pauses between sentences, I could hear it beating...

  The killer stood up and started walking towards me, maintaining eye contact the entire time. And, not wanting to give him the damned satisfaction, I stared into those eyes I hated so much.

  “Pete, I’m giving you a roof over your head,” he remarked, and I frowned slightly. “I think I deserve something in return, don’t I?” He placed his large, icy hand on my cheek, and I wanted to laugh, even though nothing about the situation was funny to me.

  What did he deserve for giving me a roof over my head!? He kidnapped me! And now he wanted something in return for giving me something I should always have had?

  No, something didn't add up. Either there was something deeper going on, or this guy just wanted to lash out at me for, as he put it, having a rough time.

  — You don't even know how much I risked by taking you.

  “What?” That one word escaped my lips involuntarily, but I doubted Mr. Edward heard it, because as soon as I said it, a loud slap sound echoed through the room.