He sat in an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere. The room was dark -- or maybe that was because of the blindfold? -- and the scent of mildew and rotting wood filled his nose. The sound of fire crackled behind him.
His legs were tied to the legs of the chair with vines, the thorns tearing into his skin and cutting open wounds. The small cuts healed fast, though. Because of this, his skin regrew around the thorn.
The pain escalated when he felt a hand come in contact with his cheek, the sound of skin on skin echoing the wooded area. Suddenly, the cloth around his eyes was removed with a sharp yank, and he was blinded by the person holding a flashlight centimeters from his eyes. Wincing, he shut his eyes. His head felt like exploding.
Whoever was holding the light clicked a button, probably turning it off, so the young male dared to opened his eyes. Instead of finding a whole person in front of him, he found himself looking at a man with a monocle slowly disintegrating into a swarm of black and red butterflies.
"паук," a voice (presumably the man from before) taunted with a thick Russian accent.
Looking around in fear, the young boy tugged on the thorns, yelping out in pain from the thorns. He tried to yell or make a noise, but before he could get out one syllable, a metal mouth mask was strapped onto his mouth -- almost as if it appeared out of nowhere.
"Shh," the voice spoke again, whispering in his ear. Whipping his head towards the voice, the smaller boy found himself disappointed when he found no one there. "No speaking."
"Let's play a game, shall we?" a new voice spoke. One that was more feminine. It also had a Russian accent on it -- and somewhat sounded familiar as well..?
The scenery changed.
He wasn't in an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere any more, he was in a lab. The walls were made of stone and the equipment around the room was splattered with blood; the sound of something dripping made him shutter because he just knew that it wasn't water dripping.
He was no longer sitting, either. Instead, he was chained upright to a small trolley cart. A mirror appeared in front of him, and he saw his reflection.
Black hair and grey eyes.
"What do you see, паук?"
"I see me," he answered to the feminine voice, now noticing that the metal face mask had been removed.
"Take a closer look." the male voice instructed. So, he did. He even went as far as squinting his eyes and leaning forwards as far as he could.
"I don't see anything."
"Look harder." the voice seethed.
"But it's just a mirr--"
"Look HARDER!"
And suddenly, the mirror flickered.
His attention whipped back towards the reflection and for a moment, nothing happened. But as he was getting ready to sigh and call it his imagination, it flickered again.
And then again.
And again.
And ag--- it stopped.
The flickering stopped and instead of his normal reflection, he was left with something that he didn't know what. Or rather, someone he didn't know, looking back at him.
Brown hair, honey eyes, and a bright smile.
The person looked just like him, but different.
"Who... Who is that?"
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The Winter Spider | Peter Parker
Fanfiction❛❛ WHEN YOU FIGHT MONSTERS IT'S AT RISK OF BECOMING ONE YOURSELF. ❜❜ || Two years ago, one of humanities favourite masked vigilantes went off the grid. Since then, no one has heard from the red and blue arachnid. But while everyone was searching...
