Chapter 11
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Ummmmm this chapter gets a little dark so if you have trigger warning with torture or stuff feel free to skip, I can summaries the chapter at the bottom just for those who don't want to read that kinda stuff which I totally understand.
Sandman was a regular person forced into a life of crime by old men with more power than any man should have. Well, he was as regular as a person could be when they could turn into a miniature desert. He stood in front of an old, wrecked building that was cleared for demolition in the coming months. The place was an old brothel built deep into the poorer parts of New York, the kind of place you wouldn't walk near even during the day. The building reeked of blood, sweat and some other unsavoury fluids, the sheer stench of the place burnt his nostrils. However, he was on a job. As much as he loathed standing inside one of the abandoned rooms stationed in this hell hole, he held his tongue and guarded the small room. The room was covered in white plastic for easy clean up though in all honesty that was a waste. There was no point to it when any blood that would be splattered would be unnoticeable from the other stains that covered more of the wall than the actual wall. Not that anyone would come here anyway. It wasn't exactly a place where if a person walking by heard a scream, they would rush in. No, there weren't any heroes in this part of New York. For Iron-Man doesn't step foot in a place that doesn't have sidewalks made of gold and Thor for all his speeches about his worthiness would fight a giant minding its own business than waste his time lowly Midgardians. Even Captain America, the figurehead for what a hero should be wouldn't intervene. Not because he doesn't care but it is simply not an effective use of his time. Crime in large cities is like a mild cold. A person will ignore a cold and go on about his day as while an inconvenience, there are much worse things to focus on. Realistically heroes could end crime in New York in a month had they put their full attention on it, but they simply couldn't. Every week some sort of alien invasion or resurrected enemy would show up and the heroes would be forced to deal with that as lowly crime continued to march on. An issue but an insignificant one compared to an extra-terrestrial takeover. That was why no one would come. That's why no one cared when Peter, a young boy Sandman tried killing a few nights before entering the plastic-covered white room.
Peter limped himself into the room. He was greeted by five individuals. Sandman, Tombstone, two random goons presumably from his gang and Harry tied to a chair hooded and presumably gagged by the sounds under the hood. Peter had been told he had to make his way immediately to this location over the phone, that he was being watched as to assure he wouldn't try to call his dad. Peter considered just flat out ignoring them but with Harry now as a hostage Peter bit back the urge to spider suit up and go on a murder spree. Harry came first and Peter was confident in his ability to deal with Tombstone if the need arises. It was admittedly concerning how Tombstone seemed to know Peter's whereabouts 24/7 but with Black Cat and who knows how many other spies or super-powered minions he had he wasn't too surprised.
The room was covered in plastic, the kind Peter had scene before for executions. The plastic that lined the room allowed for nice and easy clean up after a blood splatter. Of course, Peter himself never took part in the executions but he had seen the aftermath and he had been forced to watch one when he started becoming more integrated with the gang. Death was just business. Did they plan to execute him? Peter snorted at the thought despite his ribs stinging a little. Stupid Lizard.
Peter examined the room. It only had one entry and exit which was blocked by Sandman. Not a big deal, Peter could easily run through the already falling apart walls of this dumb room if needs be. There were two chairs facing each other. Of course, one had a small teenager hooded and tied to it while the other sat ominously empty. Judging by the clothes and the build it was apparent that it was Harry under the hood. Peter resisted a scoff. Did they seriously think they could stop him? Peter signal handily beat Sandman, having a few other men wouldn't change the outcome.
"Good evening, Peter." Tombstone smiled. What a joke. Tombstone wasn't wearing his usual suit, instead, he wore a black golfer shirt and brown khakis. He looked like he was going to go golfing with a bunch of other pretentious rich men rather than an execution.
"Tombstone." Peter acknowledged giving him a small nod. "I see Sandy is also here as per usual kissing your ass. Your nose looks browner than usual." Peter smiled broadly to Sandman who still stood quietly at the door. He was no fun. Tombstone however laughed proudly at his antics much to Peter's annoyance.
"I'm glad you showed up. Honestly, I'm surprised you did, alone in fact. You aren't a very good mobster, are you?" Tombstone smirked. He put his hand over Harry's head as it petted an obedient dog, ruffling the bag over his head. "I mean you come unarmed to me and no one knows where you are. Like, I'm not insane, right? I thought from the context it's pretty clear we're going to kill you. I wasn't being subtle about that right?" He looked over to sandman who gave a strong 'I want to kill you' glare back to Tombstone who merely shrugged in response.
"Let Harry go," Peter spoke strongly but softly.
"Oh fuck, I honestly forgot you were here. Not much of a speaker this one." Tombstone once again looked over to his sandy companion but was again met with silence. "You are just the worst person to have a dialect with. Regardless, I suppose I am a man of my word. I will let him go after you've been disposed of."
"Now."
"Do you really think you're in a situation to demand anything?" Peter bit his lip, he really wasn't. But Peter stood in the room of white plastic with four of his enemy gang, two of which being superpowered. So, Peter hit the floor hard and sprinted forward ignoring the pain in his ribs. Peter wasn't going to be able to convince Tombstone to spare him so Peter decided the simplest option was the best. Run.
Tombstone didn't seem surprised but he wasn't fast enough to react only able to watch helplessly as Peter grabbed the back of Harry's chair and dragged him along the floor towards the wall. Changing direction to the door would lose all momentum and give Tombstone and his gang to react, Peter couldn't afford that. Peter hit the wall hard and his body screamed in pain but it was worth it when he heard that wood crack. Peter expected to honestly burst through the wall and take the plastic with him, his biggest fear was getting caught in the plastic like a fish in a net but what he didn't expect was to smash halfway through the wall only to lose all his momentum. Peter's ass hit the floor, the dull thud accompanied by Harry's muffled screams.
What the hell? Peter's questions were soon answered by the sight of sand slowly leaking through the bottom of the plastic wall covering. The walls. They had hide sand in the walls as a sort of sandbag, The walls were rotten and hollow so Sandman must have just filled them with sand.
"Shit," Peter whispered under his breath. The sand wrapped around Peter's leg coiling around it as if it was a snake but there wasn't enough to stop Peter from breaking its grip. Kicking away from the wall Peter stood in the middle of the room, fortunately, the sand didn't seem interested in Harry and slowly crept towards Peter.
"So much like your father, all brawn no brains. But please by all means don't let me stop you from running headfirst into a wall again, after all, it worked so well the last time." The albino man smirked. As if on cue more sand started to make its way through the cracks between the floorboards. The issue was these cracks were everywhere. Sand made its way through the plastic and covered the room, a prison of sand. What a joke.
The sand flowed like water passing over the mobsters and Harry as if it was sentient which it probably was thanks to the bastard in the green striped shirt. It was only a matter of seconds before Peter was surrounded by a coffin of sand and try as Peter might his fist and kicks thudded harmlessly against the sand cage. The sand slowly but surely became a coffin as the cage shrank more and more only piling more and more sand. It wasn't long till Peter was drowning in the sand, it was a claustrophobic feeling and Peter tried to scream only for his begging to be muffed by the sand entering his windpipe. It was coarse and dry, hurting every cementer as it forcefully made its way to his lungs. Tears bit at Peter's eyes but they were immediately dried out by the sand that engulfed Peter, it was hell. It probably only took a minute but for Peter, it felt like an hour of struggling to writhe and screaming under the small desert that filled his lungs.
"You didn't kill him, did you? You know I'm not going to be too happy if he dies this quick."
"I didn't kill him."
Who was talking? Why did his throat hurt so much? Peter's eyes fluttered open. He was greeted by the plastic room and Tombstone and Sandman arguing with each other. The two goons were gone now replaced by a camera and a tray of tools.
"Why am I still alive?" Peter murmured; his voice hurt when it escaped his lips. Everything hurt really. Why was he naked? Peter tried to fidget but his hands and legs were wrapped with layer after layer of sand. Shit, Peter couldn't get any leverage like this. Even with all the super strength in the world doesn't mean much if there is no leverage. Peter could've forced maybe could have brute-forced it, but Sandman didn't seem to be taking any chances with Peter again increasing the pressure of his sandy grip.
"You unfortunately are." Tombstone smiled cockily. His gaze irritated Peter to no end, especially with Peter's apparent lack of clothes.
"I got to say I'm flattered, but I'm not into old men old enough to be my grandfather." Despite Peter's teasing words, this was really uncomfortable. His cheeks had turned red with embarrassment and the idea of being at the mercy of two mobsters wasn't exactly his idea of fun. "Where's Harry."
"You just don't shut up about that kid. He was moved to a different room, some people thought that it would be unnecessary to have him in the room for what happens next." Tombstone gave annoyed look to Sandman who remained emotionless, if anything Sandman looked pitiful. He looked at Peter with regret, which unsettled the boy. The last thing Peter wanted was mercy from the person who tried to kill him.
"So what's this supposed to be exactly, you got me all tied up and naked. My safe word is buttercup." Peter smirked, despite his brave words the whole situation Peter found himself in was less than ideal. The way Tombstone smiled at him was predatory in nature and sent a shiver down his spine.
"Oh Peter, I do so hope you keep this immature persona you've adopted. There is no pleasure in breaking someone fragile, it's more of running through the motions." Tombstone walked over to the video camera on the stand turning it on with an audible click that rang into Peter's ears. "Don't forget to smile." Tombstone reorganised the camera so It was focused on Peter. "This is going straight to your Daddy dearest after we are done. Torture two birds with one video you know." Peter cringed at how nonchalant Tombstone spoke. He sent a curious look towards Sandman who looked away not daring to meet his glaze.
"Hey hey hey." Tombstone gripped Peter's chin forcing him to look at him. "I want your eyes on me, I want to see the moment you break, I want to see those tears."
Peter swallowed the lump in his throat as he was forced to look into Tombstone's eyes, he wouldn't dare break the gaze. Peter wouldn't look away nor beg from this man.
"What do you want?"
Tombstone threw his head back in laughter. "Want! Haha, I don't want anything. Don't you get it? This isn't for information or for blackmail. I'm going to hurt you, for hours until you break. Then I'm going to kill you and send the video of me doing so to Kingpin. He's going to fly into a blind rage, it's no secret you're his little doomsday trigger. All the crime lords know, not great poker your dad is."
"You'll die, not even your immortality can save you. Surely you know if our two gangs went into an open war you'd lose. Not even you're that stupid."
"Oh, sweet Peter, a decade ago perhaps. But now there more idiots in tights running around the city every night. If an open gang war happened all I'd have to do is make it public enough that literally any avenger could show up and completely decimate our gangs, no matter what size."
"That's mutual self-destruction."
"No, it isn't, it's a setback to be sure and my gang is old. Only recently have I found a few individuals capable of competing with the other gangs such as my good friend Sandman here. The only good thing about being part of the older generation of gangs is that we have experienced it, I can rebuild from a simple gang war especially if I prepare for failure. Kingpin, however. Well to put it simply it won't end well. Now where was I?" Tombstone walked over to the tray of tools he had at his disposal. The first thing he picked up was a list.
"Now we like to have fun, right Sandman. My little gang has a gambling pool for how long you take before your heart gives out. I'm putting a lot of money on you Kingpin Jr. So please, do me a favour and at least survive till castration." Tombstone picked up a hammer and let it swing like a pendulum in his grip as he approached Peter.
Um yeah feel free to skip this if you have issues with torture. I try not to describe the torture rather the results but still. I'll have bold for people to know when it ends.
Each step that the pale monster took towards the boy he shrunk back further into his chair as a desperate attempt to get away. As the hammer rose Peter took a deep breathe, anything to migrate the pain. But a small scream betrayed him as the metal came down hard on his knee. Again and again, Peter bit his lip only letting whimpers out as the hammer rung true again and again.
"You're more resistant than the average man? Of course, you've had enhancements your Kingpin's son. Superpowers just aren't as special as it was back in my day when they weren't handed around like STDs at a whore house. No matter. The harder to break the worse the torture."
It had been hours as Tombstone went down his merry fucking list. Sandman had turned his back no longer using his sand to restrict the boy. There was no point. The child even with enhancement could probably no longer move. He had turned his own ears to sand to hide the sound of the boy's screams, he had no pleasure in hearing a child around his daughter's age beg. Sandman looked over to Tombstone who was laughing historically as Peter's bloody tears can down his face as the boy who was too young to drive screamed at the feeling of a hot stick branding the child in a location that made Sandman throw up in his mouth and turn his head back away. Sandman couldn't hear the boy's screams but even faced away he could feel it. The first scream the boy let out was so primal. He had been electrocuted, cut, beaten, burned and waterboarded in the span of 12 hours. Sandman yearned to leave. To see his daughter that he loved, to see the very reason he was imprisoned in a room where he had to smell the burnt flesh of a crying child. The fact that Kingpin's son's heart hadn't given up was a testament to the enhancements that ran through the boy's blood. Although the same thing that kept him alive probably was his greatest curse right now. Sandman prayed that if there was a god whether it was Christian, Norse or even Greek that they would put an end to the boy's misery.
How long had it been? What was he doing here? Why was this happening? Peter gasped for breath, but he choked on his own blood causing Peter to dry cough whatever filth he still had in his lungs. His throat screamed in agony from Peter's own screaming. Tombstone in his cruelty had been letting Peter rest. There was no kindness in his tormentor's actions, but Peter even with his spider power's resilience couldn't survive straight torture. He needed this break purely so his heart wouldn't give out. Although Peter wished it would.
He had been blacking out for hours repeatedly. His only sanctuary from the pain that writhed his body. Peter didn't dare look down, for he sat in a chair soaked in urine and blood. Peter feared what he would see as the devil had taken great pleasure in tearing his lower half to shreds. Not that Peter could see much anyway. Was he blind? He couldn't tell. His sight was gone but he was in so much pain that he couldn't think. Were his eyes even open or were they gone completely? They always knew about torture and how it was always romanticised in fiction. But torture isn't something people could take, rather that they couldn't run from. It was an unimaginable hell, something that existed to bring as much pain as possible which people couldn't even hope to imagine. What was his name? His head hurt so much. He had tried everything. The boy had promised suits of technology far beyond the other gangs or even gang's secrets but as much as the boy told Tombstone he kept hurting him no matter what the boy had told him. He had betrayed his family, his gang and his friends while begging through blood-stained tears and was rewarded in excruciating pain. He had been broken. And yet the creature that laughed found more ways to shatter him still.
Okay, the end of the torture. Those who did skip can read again from here.
Black Cat sat in her room bored. She had got no word from Tombstone ever since she gave her report two nights ago about Peter and the weird alligator monster. What was happening? She hoped Peter was alright. Why did she think of him? She didn't know but it was annoying. She almost felt guilty about reporting the boy to that bastard Tombstone. Peter was strong though; he could handle anything that the pale bastard could throw at him, she was sure. Although that didn't help make her feel guilty about the stack of money that sat in her wallet. Maybe she would sneak into Peter's room. She held back a giggle at the thought of how embarrassed that boy would be at him waking up at the sight of her. It wouldn't be hard to find where he lived. That bitch Mary Jane probably knows. She held back a scowl at the thought of the other girl. It was unjustified hate that came from a place Black Cat didn't know where was from, but it was hate all the same. She was so bored without a mission… maybe she should steal something from Oscorp again. Damnit, why couldn't she get Peter out of her head? Maybe she'll pay him a visit to tease him a little. No! that would mean she cares what he thinks and she most certainly does not. No Black Cat would rather… what would she rather do? Oh, she knew. She might go see Sandman; the man treated her basically as his own daughter which was weird as she never really had a dad, but she would gladly steal those little treats he would give her. With her mind decided Black Cat went off to find Sandman, thankfully she had his mobile on social media and the old man didn't realise how to turn off location sharing.
