"MJ, let me see!" Peter called out as he was running across the grounds of the Osborn Manor. While he was running, he saw that Mary Jane had run into the greenhouse. When he got inside, Peter believed she had disappeared until he saw the familiar redhead hiding beneath the table containing many potted plants. Crouching down, he said "Please let me see."
"Finder's keepers, and I found it." Mary Jane teased.
"Yeah, in Harry's garden." Peter retorted. "I just want to tell him what it is, that's all."
Sighing, MJ said "Alright," and she opened up her hand to reveal a Native American arrowhead, most likely made out of flint.
Acting quickly, Peter snatched the arrowhead out of her hands and ran away, shouting "Finder's keepers!"
"Hey! Get back here!" Mary Jane called out, but by then Peter had hidden himself behind a bush with his knees on top of a nailed-up well.
"Peter?" MJ asked, wondering where he could've gone to. As Peter peaked over the bush to keep track of where she was, he felt the wood beneath his legs begin to buckle, and it gave out from under him.
"AAAHH!" Peter screamed as he fell down the well. When he hit the bottom, he heard a painful cracking noise as his left elbow came in contact with the ground. As he tried to get up, he found that when he tried to move his left arm, it was extremely painful, so he assumed that it was broken. He also saw that his glasses were broken and askew, as well as his clothes covered with musty old spider webs.
MJ heard the commotion and came rushing to the side of the well, calling down, with worry, "Peter? Peter, are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine MJ. Can you go get some help?" Peter asked.
"Sure, right away," she said, and she began rushing towards the Manor, shouting "Aunt Anna! Mr. Parker! Mr. Osborn! Someone help!"
When the sounds of her voice faded away, the injured 8-year-old looked to the side of the pit and saw a black cave leading to God knows where. In no time at all, he heard the sounds of someone, or something, rustling in the darkness. Terrified, Peter was wishing that Mary Jane would come back soon with his father or someone who would help, but the moment just wasn't coming quick enough.
Suddenly, hundreds of thousands of spiders crawled out quickly from the cave and started to swarm Peter. He tried to shoo them away with his working arm, but it proved to no avail as the arachnids crawled all over his body and started biting him everywhere. Peter let out a scream of terror each time the fangs penetrated his skin, causing him immense pain all over, and he felt like he was going to die.
Peter's eyes shot wide open as he woke up, taking in the fact that his mind was no longer in the past, but terrified all the same. As he sat up on his uncomfortable bed, he looked around his cell and saw another one of the prisoners awake as well.
"Did you have dream?" the old man asked, one of the few Bhutanese men at the prison who could speak proper English, if any. This was the only person that Peter could call "friend" at this place, but he never learned his name.
"Nightmare," Peter uttered, his voice hoarse and deep. As he swung his legs over to the floor and rubbed his face and beard, the old man asked "Worse than this place?"
Looking over to one of the other prisoners, a large, scowling man with grudge against him for whatever reason, Peter said "I don't even know anymore."
As the guards pulled them out of their cells so they could receive their morning meal, Peter saw the other prisoners that were either eating or working, along with the guards that were armed to the teeth and ready to gun down anyone who resisted authority.
When the prisoners got in line for their meal, Peter saw the large man staring him down, and the old man said from behind "They are going to fight you."
"Again?" Peter whined, grabbing a small bowl.
"Until they kill you." the old man warned.
As he grabbed a ladle from the pot of stew and started pouring the watery liquid and raw cabbage into his bowl, Peter sarcastically asked "Can they kill me before breakfast?"
Suddenly, a hand slapped the bowl from Peter's grip, causing it to spill on the ground, and he looked to see that the large man was the one who did it. Giving him a nasty glare followed by a wicked smile, he said "You are in hell, little man."
The large man then punched him in the jaw, sending his upper body onto the serving counter. Pulling Peter back by his hair, he looked him in the eyes and said "And I am the devil."
He punched him again, sending him towards the ground. Peter placed his hands out in front of him to break his fall, and when he got back up, he looked the large man in the eyes and said "You're not the devil. You're practice."
The large man took a swing at him, but Peter ducked and delivered a blow to the jaw, followed by a head-butt that knocked him to the ground, cold.
As Peter stood victorious, some of the men that stood in from of the large man looked at him and began to engage him. One of them threw his arm out, but Peter grabbed it and threw him against the serving table. The others got behind him and were pulling at his shoulders, causing him to lose his grip on the one man and himself thrown against the table. While they were beating down on him, Peter swung his legs up and pushed at the side of the counter to force the men back, sending them and himself flying through a metal fence that kept the others in line. As they rolled down the short but muddy hill, Peter regained his balance and started to drag one of his attackers through the mud until another man punched him in the face. After he punched a second time, he tried to kick him, but Peter grabbed his leg and threw it against his kneecap, causing it to snap. Another man grabbed him from behind, but Peter grabbed hold of his arm and threw him over his shoulder and onto the ground on top of the other man who's leg he just broke. Two more men tried going at him from either side, but Peter reacted quickly by punching them both at the same time in the face. Another man attempted to kick him, but he simply caught his leg and twisted it. Yet another man tried charging at him, but Peter picked him up and threw him over his head. When one of the men looked like he was going to get up again, Peter kicked him in the groin, causing him immense pain. The last man tackled him from behind and shoved his face into the mud, whereupon Peter got up and started to beat down on the man who tackled him.
Suddenly, gunshots rang out as two guards came rushing to the scene while another fired his rifle into the air. The guards grabbed onto Peter's arms as they started to drag him away.
"Where are you taking me?" Peter demanded.
The guard with the rifle said "Solitary!"
"Why?" he asked.
"For protection!" the guard said.
Peter felt disgusted at his remark. "I don't need protection!"
"Protection for them!" the guard told him, noting the men that were lying in the mud.
"Get in!" the guard shouted as he threw a muddy Peter into the isolation room and onto the floor, whereupon he locked the metal door. When he got up, he started walking over to the only stool in the room when he heard a voice behind him say "Are you so desperate to fight criminals that you lock yourself in to take them on one at a time?"
Peter saw a Caucasian man standing in the shadowy corner of the room, wearing a dark grey suit, blue shirt, and red tie. What was unusual was that his hair was remarkably silver, not grey, and that he was rather young to sport this, around his mid forties or so. In response to his question, Peter said "Actually, there were, uh, seven of them."
As Peter turned back to his stool, the man said "I counted six, Mr. Parker."
When he said this, Peter turned to face the man after he had emerged from the shadows and he had sat down. He asked, in surprise, "How do you know my name?"
"The world is too small for someone like Peter Parker to disappear, no matter how deep he chooses to sink." the man said, walking towards Peter.
"Who are you?" Peter asked.
"My name is merely Frederick Foswell, but I speak for Silvio Manfredi, otherwise known as 'Silvermane,' a man greatly feared by the criminal underworld. A man who can offer you a path." Foswell said.
"What makes you think I need a path?" Peter asked, throwing his muddy hand-rags on the floor.
"Someone like you is only here by choice." Foswell said. "You have been exploring the criminal fraternity, but whatever your original intentions, you have become truly lost."
Peter scoffed, then asked "And what path can 'Silvermane' offer?"
"The path of a man who shares his hatred of evil, and wishes to serve true justice." Foswell said. "The path of the League of Maggia."
Peter chuckled this time, then answered "You're vigilantes."
"No, no, no. A vigilante is just a man lost in the scramble for his own gratification. He can be destroyed, or locked up." Foswell responded, noting the prison walls around them. Then, he crouched down so he could meet eye-to-eye with Peter, and said "But, if you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can't stop you, then you become something else entirely."
Peter was now fully listening to what Foswell was saying, and he asked "Which is?"
"A legend, Mr. Parker." Foswell said, followed by a moment of silence. When he finally stood up and started walking towards the door, he said "Tomorrow, you will be released. If you are bored of brawling with petty thieves and want to achieve something, there is a rare blue flower that grows on the eastern slopes. Pick one of these flowers. If you can carry it to the top of the mountain, you may find what you were looking for in the first place."
"And what was I looking for?" Peter asked as one of the guards opened the door.
Foswell turned to face him, and he said "Only you can know that."
With that, Foswell left the isolation room, and the door was locked behind him.
