From Midnight to Dawn

Midnight

Peter kept his eyes planted on the New York Commercial Bank. A little hole-in-the-wall bank with all glass windows facing outwards. Traffic was light for 3 in the morning. Foot traffic was almost non-existent. Just an occasional homeless guy or a few women dressed up in oddly flashy outfits for that time of the night. No biggie.

When the coast finally cleared, Peter pulled a white spider-skull bandanna from the pocket of his thick black hoodie. He covered the bottom half of his face, tying the bandanna around his slim neck, before pulling up a hood to cover the top half.

Sighing, Peter dashed from his hiding spot across the street, in the blink of an eye. He ran up the wall of the bank, bare feet sticking against the brick with ease, and leaping onto the roof with ease. His eyes darted across the ceiling, focused on the air duct, covered with the autumn leaves that fell all across the city.

Ripping the steel grate off the roof was quick work, and with Peter's lean figure, he hopped down the shaft of the ventilation system with room to spare. His bare hands stuck to the sides of the ducts, as he maneuvered swiftly through the maze around the bank. Within just a few minutes, he arrived at his destination.

Peter fell from the ceiling, landing silently on his feet. Lifting his head, he spotted the Bank Vault for the small branch, sealed shut before him. He eyed the area all around him, quietly sensing for any sign of danger. When nothing seemed to pop on his radar, Peter nodded.

"Just like the Boss said. Security's just on the doors and windows. They couldn't afford to wire everything."

Striding forward, Peter rose a hand, caressing the thick door before him. He dropped his head for a moment, shutting his eyes. "I'm sorry," Peter sighed, slamming his fist into the safe, melting into the thick mechanism like a knife to warm butter. He twisted his fist from the inside, forcibly yanking the door backward, effortlessly. He opened his eyes, now presented with multiple tables filled with rolled wads of cash, hundreds upon thousands of safety-deposit boxes, and even a single gold bar up on a high shelf.

Unzipping his backpack, Peter went to work. He stuffed several wads of bills into his bag, counting out roughly $5,000 in cash. With barely a percent of the safe's total contents, Peter zipped his backpack up, and forced the safe closed, leaving behind a majority of the money and goods behind.

"I really hope your insurance covers that." Peter cringed at the gaping hole in the safe, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

The hair on the back of Peter's neck stood up on its end, as every nerve in his body screamed "danger." Peter quickly latched onto the nearest wall, and shimmied up the side, before huddling into the depths of his hoodie. He focused on breathing, trying to make himself as invisible a presence as possible as he hung from the ceiling in the shadows.

A door was unlocked, opening from a side entrance. Soon after, beams from flashlights could be seen from a hallway, as two uniformed police officers stepped within Peter's line of sight.

"Come on, Bob, you really think the Spiderthief is going to knock over a bank? Come off it. These extra patrols are stupid, we should be watching the local shops. He's got to be tied with FISK, robbing pawn shops and tourist traps that don't pay the Kingpin's ransom.."

"I'm telling you, Serah, the Daily Bugle is right about this kid. That freak is going to knock over a big bank any day now for the Big Boss. Sure, he's small-time right now, but all these Super-Villains start out small. Look at Dr. Octavious! The guy was all about saving the world, and look at him now! Locked up in Supermax with Fury and the Avengers keeping him under lock and key!"