Jaws of Death

Chapter 7

The bearded African American cop at Queensboro Correctional Facility waited with bated breath. He had done exactly what was asked of him. He had specific instructions to block out the power from the main voltage box at the west side of the facility, The High security block. And he would have to open the electronic doors of Cells no. 7 and 9. That was important.

He kept repeating the next set of instructions under his breath. Wait for 10 minutes. Switch on the power and close the doors again. He was so nervous about this whole thing. Timing was so essential, the guy had said. Wesley, or whatever his name was. If something went amiss, he would have to answer to someone dangerous, he had been told.

Wait for 10 minutes. Switch on the power and close the doors again!

He checked his watch again. Just one minute to go. He got up from his seat and was hurrying towards the West side facility when at the distant corridor, he heard shouts. There seemed to be a scuffle going on. He turned towards the corridor and thought.

That was the cell of Peter Parker. They had to have killed the kid by now. What's causing the noise?

He decided to check it out. Slowly, he walked along the corridor, keeping his ears primed to hear any noise that came from the cell. As he neared the cell, all he could hear was silence. Maybe they had finished the job. But, he had to check. If something was wrong, he had to gain control of the situation. Or else, there'll be consequences. He reached the cell. Its door was open.

Silently, he peeped in. Four men lay on the ground, knocked out cold. Their arms and legs were intertwined in a sloppy manner. What the hell? He was just on the verge of looking in deeper to search for the kid. The kid must have died. Even if the men were knocked out, as long as the kid was dead, nothing would create any-

BAM! Something caught him right at the back of the head cannonballing him right into the cell. The cop would never know who or what hit him as he was unconscious before he slumped to the floor.

Peter Parker stood over the unconscious stack of men. He poked through the cop's belt and picked out his ID. One look at the name made him snort.

Chadwick, huh? Peter snorted. Well, Wakanda forever, then.

With that, he ran out onto the corridor and in one big leap, he was on the ceiling. Hanging downward, holding to the ceiling with his sticky fingers. Spidey's back in the game, boys! This was his favourite part of superpowers. At this position, the whole world was turned upside down. Just like it actually is, in real life.

Peter had absolutely no plan. He began crawling as fast as he could, slithering into corridors after corridors, not knowing where he was going. Occasionally, he ran into a room with cops and he had to wriggle his way back outside. As he kept going, he noticed pipes. Tiny pipes leading off from the common facility restroom for the inmates, leading to bigger pipes which lead to even bigger ones.

And it struck him.

Five minutes later, Peter Parker was squeezing himself into a sewer manhole and dropped into the sewer, plunging into the dirty waters headfirst.

Pfft! He spat out the water as his head broke the surface. He took a look around.

Spiderman and Sewers... A better love story than twilight!

There was pure darkness on either sides. He had absolutely no idea where the sewer was going. But he had no choice but to follow it. It was hard navigating through the darkness. He wished he had taken the cop's flashlight along. Unfortunately, back there he had gotten obsessed with making a pop culture reference. He knew he was going to pay for it someday. Think about it! Ironman-cause of death: using an infinity gauntlet! Captain America- cause of death: Old age! Spiderman-cause of death: Pop culture references. That sounded really good, he thought bitterly as he shook his head.

As he neared a junction, he had to choose. Based on pure instinct, he turned left.

His heart was beating fast. The anxiety he was feeling was probably the worst he had felt in several weeks. He had to get to Aunt May as soon as possible. He can't let her die. She mustn't die.

If she did, it would be on me. Just like Uncle Ben's was.

But being stuck in a sewer miles away from his home wasn't even on the list of problems for Peter. He was concerned about something else that put him in a vast disadvantage.

Apart from wall climbing and accelerated metabolism, he had none of his superpowers! He had lost them two months ago. In essence, he was just Peter Parker, a weird nineteen year old who could climb walls and run faster.

He wasn't Spiderman!