Tragedy of Natalie Thomas-MCU

Chapter 8

        Chapter 8

Sam frantically ran into his room and threw open the closet door. He couldn't seem to get the falcon wings on fast enough. He fumbled with the last of the straps, and opened the window, then launched himself out into the setting sun. The sky glowed a light red, and the buildings jutted out like stalagmites. Unsure of what else to do he started flying a wide spiral starting from the tower.

The wind howled in his ears while he dodged buildings, his engines were going full throttle. Five minutes passed, nothing.

Eight minutes, he had flown past office windows reflecting the setting sun, but he didn't have time to enjoy the warm air. A few tears started running down his cheeks, his mind was racing.

It had been fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes, he was wildly cutting corners and pushing himself harder. His eyes scanned the ground frantically looking for something. The low sun cast shadows on the buildings, leaving some parts of the city in darkness. Sam flew under another skyscraper, the cold and panic making him shudder from wing to wing.

Twenty minutes, Natalie was back in the hands of her captors for twenty minutes. He was full on crying now. Tears fell hundreds of feet to the streets below.

Thirty minutes, nothing, absolutely nothing. Nothing suspicious, no odd cars, no gunfire, nothing. Sam felt like a failure.

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Peter Parker was on the way home from school, he was taking his usual mode of transport... his spiderman suit. He had stayed late to finish the programming for the robotics club and was enthusiastic to get home for dinner. He was zipping under and over buildings with a little more of a spring in his step.

I wonder what Aunt May made for dinner! Maybe spaghetti? Burgers? Takeout?!

He flipped up and over a hot dog cart and caught the smell coming from the top.

Aw man now I want hot dogs...

He webbed a building and swung around it at top speed. Then he let go of the web, did a flip mid-air, let out a loud whoop, and webbed onto the next building. He was grinning ear-to-ear under the mask as he launched himself off another building and swooped low over traffic. Half of the crowd pulled out phones to record and Peter flashed a peace sign for the cameras. "Hi everybody!" He said, then shot away again, the last of the day's sun warming his back. Sunshine glinted off windows, the evening felt picture-perfect.

It's really nice out, I wonder if Aunt May will let us eat out on the fire escape?

He swung hard to the left, he could almost see his apartment building. Then he darted under a few trees, jumping far up he landed on the roof of a building and ran across it. Once he was close enough to the edge he jumped off and hit the next building with a web.

Then a jolt went down his spine.

Danger, far right.

He almost hit the building he was webbed to face-on, but the same instinct alerted him and he landed on the side, feet sticking.

He cautiously looked around, not seeing anything, but that didn't mean nothing had happened. He had learned last summer to trust this instinct he called his "Spider Sense"

A few moments passed.

Danger, behind.

He leaped up and raced to the top of the building. He was running vertically up it, feet having no problem sticking to the glass. The sun reflected off the glass into his eyes, and his suit automatically adjusted.