Authors: co-written by liliaeth and XxBrooklynnxX
Summary: One glimpse was all it took, one moment of being caught on tape and Peter's life would never be the same.
Categories: Fanfiction, Fanfiction > Spider-Man, Fanfiction > Spider-Man > Spider-Man Movies Characters: Gwen Stacy, Mary Jane Watson, May Parker (Aunt May), Peter Parker (Spiderman), Matt Murdock (Daredevil), Captain George Stacy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Friendship
Warning: Character Death
Carly could feel the gravel underneath her naked feet. The pain seared her soles but she knew she couldn’t stop – if she stopped she was dead. He was right behind her. He had been for what felt like hours. No, not hours, it had been a few minutes at best, but she shivered in her thin nightshirt, her hair still tied up for the night. Her heart rolled around in her throat, thumping away madly.
"Please, someone, anyone, help me!" But the streets were empty – even during the daytime the area she'd been dropped off at was an abandoned warehouse district. Trucks passed by, but none of them seemed to even notice her. As if she were invisible, caught in some secret dimension just a step out of time.
"Oh God, No! He's gonna kill me!"
She'd been taken earlier that morning, lifted from her bed in the dorm, with a gun forced against her throat. She'd tried to do what the man said, tried to follow orders. Anything to survive, but then he let her go and told her to start running. She'd thought he'd been kidding, that maybe it was some kind of student prank. And then he started counting.
It was the counting that frightened her the most.
"Sixty, fifty nine, fifty—” She started running then, running away from the glee and hunger on his face that told her he might well try to eat her. Away from the knife in his hands, and away from that empty stare in his eyes that looked at her like a bully did to a dog that he had just set on fire. So she ran, but he was already after her.
Carly had never run so fast in her entire life; her breath hitched as she gasped for air. She kept looking backwards, seeing the man following her with the blade extended. Just walking, taking his time, his red hair barely moving as his feet kept a steady, terrifying pace.
She realized then that he could have taken her out over a dozen times already; it was just that he hadn't had his fun yet. He was enjoying himself too much to end it, and that was the only thing still keeping her alive right now. It was unfair, she’d never even met him. Why was he doing this to her?
Carly was beyond tears at that point. She knew she'd be that night's headline if she didn't lose him and find a police officer, or somebody – anybody! Where was everyone? This was New York City, for god's sake. Didn’t anyone see her? Where was Spider-Man, wasn’t he supposed to protect people?
She wanted to stay on a main street, so that there was a chance someone would spot her. But that plan hadn't worked, as the madman was still tagging along with that look in his eyes. He was waiting, but his patience was wearing. He wanted blood.
And then she tripped. So stupid – so very, very stupid. She tried to get up, but he was already there.
She didn't even have time to scream.
And the murderer felt the wet blood pouring onto his hands from her throat. And he sank down and licked the flesh, feeling the warmth fade under his tongue. Blood had a distinct smell, he had once noted. It was like nothing else. He really didn’t care what happened to the body. Or who found it.
He didn't even know who the woman was. Except that he had claimed her life, and once he spotted his target there was not a person in the world that could keep him from it.
He'd followed her the night before, waited for her to go to bed and had taken her then. No one had even realized she was gone. She was the quiet type – unassuming, the type that nobody notices. Her roommate might not even notice she was missing, too busy partying to even care that the bed next to her hadn’t been made.
He licked the blade clean. He tasted her blood, sweet nectar; there was simply no way to describe just how good this was. To be like a master of creation, making the choice between life and death and picking either on a whim. To these fools he was a god, a true God in every meaning of the word, and yet Spider-Man had once dared to deny him that honour.
Spider-Man had taken him in to the authorities, but the masked vigilante had been too stupid to see what kind of a fish he'd really caught in those webs of his. He’d caught a shark and treated him as if he were a goldfish. All the red and blue clad boy scout had seen was the thief, not the bringer of death and destruction. It was sheer humiliation. The murderer hadn’t minded prison; it was just a sign of respect to see them fear him. And it was just that fear that the wallcrawler had denied him.
Prison was a struggle for power. It was a jungle where the strong thrived and the weak were ground beneath the deserving’s feet. Strong and weak there were labels, and murderers stood on the top of the heap, but thieves, that’s a whole other story. And when he had been sentenced due to a theft and not a murder, he did not receive the recognition he deserved from those who should have been looking up to him. The recognition he should have had.
Spider-Man had caught him with stolen women’s clothing, that of his victims. But the wall crawler had not seen the real reason he had the undergarments in the first place, and he merely saw him as the average pervert that liked to cross dress. The others who shared the prison with him had loved that. They had mocked him, treated him like he was a little boy caught out of line... he dragged in a deep breath, caught it in an iron grip and held on to it before forcing it back out.
If Spider-Man had seen that the panties he'd ‘stolen’ were actually evidence to a murder, he would have been the king of that prison. King!
Instead he had been a nobody. A joke, which was worse than a nobody.
And Spider-Man would pay, by God! The masked monster would pay!