I saw him today, on the news: swinging his life away as usual. It must just be what a Spider does.
Harry has been awfully quiet lately. It's getting easier and easier to suppress him each time. It won't be long before I'm in complete control and we'll be virtually inseparable. He wasn't going to do anything better with his life anyways.
Maybe it's just me, but this house has been very quiet lately. Harry's dad left for the weekend for some business meeting and it's the middle of summer so we don't have to attend school. I wonder why being the son of a billionaire is so lonely. You'd think the girls would be all over him, even if it was just for money.
I don't mind the silence, though, it gives me plenty of time to think and plot.
This particular silence, however, is different. I just get this feeling that he's watching us. I've searched inside and outside the house several times, but I never find him.
I almost don't want to let Harry sleep. I know better than that, though. If he doesn't sleep he won't cooperate as well.
We close our eyes, drifting off into a deep sleep, but something stirs downstairs. We hear faint footsteps up and down the walls and floors and ceilings. I know he's there and that he's coming for me, but I'm not afraid.
Harry yawns and turns on his lamp. The light shines on a familiar red and blue vigilante hanging down on a web from the ceiling. I almost expect Harry to jump in surprise, but he rubs his eyes and sits up in bed.
"Spider-Man?" he says in a confused and tired manner "What are you doing here?"
No reply. He doesn't even move. In fact the web isn't moving at all and it almost looks as if he isn't breathing.
After a minute of waiting we cautiously get out of bed and walk slowly towards him. Harry freezes up a few feet away from him.
"I don't think he's alive," Harry whispers.
I take control and reach out towards Spider-Man. He stays perfectly still like a statue. A thought comes to mind.
"Don't," Harry manages to say.
I push his consciousness down, almost like drowning someone in a pool. My hand extends towards the Spider's mask. If I can take it off, even for just a little amount of time, then Harry will see who he is. I know him, but I can't pinpoint a name.
My fingers, or rather our fingers, brush against the mask for barely a second before I rip the stupid thing off of his head. I grin.
But it doesn't last long.
It must be some sick joke.
It has to be a prank.
Who would do such a dumb thing?
"What the…?" we trail off.
No one was behind the mask. It was just a white manikin that the Spider himself must have left us as a present.
At least that's what I keep telling myself.