Spiderman Oneshots (Completed)

Menace

Peter was 15 when it started.

His uncle was dead. Had been for two days. He remembered the face of the killer, plain as day. He loathed that face. Wanted nothing more than to hunt it down.

So that's what he did.

He made himself a suit, it was kind of like his wrestling outfit, but more spandex less cotton.

He found the man in the span of a week.

He was doing drugs in an alley when Peter found him. Peter assaulted him with the webs he created.

He wrapped one around his neck.

Then he stopped, watched as the man's terrified eyes searched his mask for a hint of mercy. He could feel the absolute terror coming off the man in waves.

Peter took a deep breath,

And pulled as hard as he could.

The man's head fell to the ground, the force of the pull cutting it clean off.

The man's blood splattered onto the webs that had him bound, the ground, and Peter.

And god, it felt amazing.

Peter relished in the moment, feeling the warm, sticky, crimson liquid on him. He laughed giddily.

It couldn't have been wrong if it felt so good, right?

He wanted more. He needed more. That very same night, he spotted a mugger terrorizing a young man.

Peter didn't hesitate as he pulled the mugger towards him. With enough force to smash a wall into pieces, Peter threw his hand into the man's chest.

The man's screams were cut off by the blood in his throat.

That same excitement came back again, so he took out his hand and did it again.

And again.

And again and again and again.

And it felt magnificent.

---

Peter was 17 when he started to want more.

The city saw him as a hero, the police saw him as a threat, and Peter saw himself as unfulfilled.

Killing criminals felt mundane, tiresome, bland, vanilla. Peter wanted something more. He wanted something new.

Peter was in class, but he was having trouble focusing.

He was silently scratching at his arm, making himself draw blood to ease his strange addiction to it.

"Faggot." He heard someone whisper.

His cold eyes shot to Flash Thompson, who was mocking some other kid in his class.

Peter remembered when Flash tried to bully him, he quickly stood up for himself, making the other boy leave him alone.

Flash wasn't a criminal, he only resorted to name calling. Flash didn't have the balls to touch another student.

Flash was innocent in the eyes of the law.

But Peter knew that no one would miss him. People would probably feel bad, but they'd forget in about a week.

So after school, Spiderman cornered Flash.

Flash was ecstatic. He asked Peter for his autograph, a large smile on his face.

Peter wrapped a web around Eugene's torso, and pulled.

Flash was cut in half.

The same amazing feeling that Peter had when he first killed was back, but stronger than ever.

The webs clued the cops in as to who was responsible for the murder.

The Spider Killer was born that day.

---

Peter was 20 when the Avengers tried to stop him.

They found him, whistling the theme song someone had made for him back when people still saw him as a hero.

Iron Man had landed behind him. "We can talk about this peacefully." Tony had told him firmly.

Peter laughed, knowing that the billionaire didn't really mean that.

"Something funny?" Black Widow asked, landing in front of him. Peter didn't answer, just stared at her blankly.

"It's not too late to change, y'know?" Captain America, who knows when he showed up, told him gently. "It's not too late to become a better person."

Better person? Who said Peter was a bad person? He was simply appeasing a hunger that ate at his very soul, a need that coursed through his veins.

Steve had apparently noticed the shift in The Spider Killer's mood, realizing he said the wrong thing. His stance faltered slightly.

"Listen, kid, we can't have you going around killing innocent people." Tony hissed. "We need you to come with us."

Peter couldn't. What would happen to May if Peter went missing?

"Over my dead body." Peter growled.

"That can be arranged." Tony shrugged, aiming a repulsor at him.

In less than a second, Peter had jumped towards Tony, who fired a repulsor at the same time.

Peter dodged it and climbed onto Tony's back.

He viciously tore Tony's helmet off of his head and beat him over the head with it.

Tony fell to the ground, groaning.

Peter saw a bit of blood dripping from Tony's head. It excited him. So he did it again.

And again.

And again and again and again.

And it felt magnificent.

Tony's face had been bashed in, his brains spilling out onto the roof.

Steve and Natasha were frozen in shock, which eventually wore off and in a second they were charging at him in a blind rage.

Peter used a web to grab the shield out of Steve's hands. He turned and embedded it in Natasha's neck, who was just about to hit him with her taser.

In one swift movement, he took her gun out of its holster, and fired three shots into Steve's head.

The two fell to the ground in almost synch.

And Peter laughed and laughed and laughed.

---

Peter was 29 when he killed May.

His addiction to blood grew stronger with time, so strong that sometimes his body moved on its own when the need grew too much to handle.

Peter had been repressing the urge to tear something to bits for some time, focusing on finding a job.

By the time he was given a job at The Daily Bugle, he was feral.

He stalked into the living room, where May had fallen asleep watching the news.

"That's all for tonight, stay safe. Don't let The Spider Killer get you." JJJ spoke firmly, a deadly serious expression on his face.

Peter tenderly grabbed May by the face, being careful not to wake her. He twisted her head, not only snapping her neck but twisting her head off.

When his sense of awareness finally kicked in, he screamed.

---

Peter was 32 when he was shot by Morgan Stark.

A/N:

I made this while walking through the mall.

*

Darius: I'm hungry.

Min: For Susie's ass?

Darius: I--