Chapter 15: Fall Away
Happy New Year!
Have any of you read Nostradamus's predictions? If I were more into the metaphysical, I might have been terrified. As it is, I'm only very wary of what 2021 might bring.
Nah, I'm pretty hopeful. Mostly hopeful. Sort of hopeful.
Best wishes to all of you!
Pink Lemonade: Truth be told, I'm not even sure what's going on with Coulson. I sent him away to stay in canon, but I couldn't let Sam go with him in this story so . . . we'll see what comes of it. You've hit the nail on the head with the capture though! But forgive me if I still try to surprise you!
Luke watched Peter disappear through the floor. He rushed forward to grab him, but the floor closed up immediately. If he didn't have impenetrable skin, Luke would have been afraid that his hands almost got chopped off.
He knelt down by the edge of the trapdoor. It was fairly well disguised, but obvious if you were looking for it. The metal was flush with the tiled floor. Prying it open was out of the question. But they could still break through. Luke knew Peter had probably caught himself right on the other side, so they could work together to break this open.
"Power Man!" Peter's yell sounded distant. "I'm going to need some help down h—augh!"
Was Pete actually falling?
This called for immediate action. Luke banged on the floor. The trapdoor was sturdier than it appeared. He pulled some tiles up. There was cement foundation beneath.
He was going to need some help.
"Spidey's down," Luke said into his communicator. "He fell through a trapdoor on the first floor."
"This place has a trapdoor?" Sam asked. "And Spidey fell for it? Why can't he just climb out?"
"Normally, sure, but he sounds like he's falling."
"Which apartment?" Danny asked.
"One A." Luke paused, thinking. He finally noticed the noise, likely the same noise that Peter had heard just moments before. He punched through the closet wall, closing his fist around the small speaker emitting creepy breathing noises. "Hurry," he told the team. "I have a bad feeling about this."
Peter was well used to free falling. Even though he couldn't fly like Sam, it was still ridiculously simple to catch himself with either his webs or his sticky appendages. That was probably why his spider sense didn't go crazy when the floor suddenly dropped out from under him and sent him tumbling into darkness. It was also why he didn't get too scared himself. He knew that all he had to do was shoot a quick web to get to safety. And that was exactly what he did, shooting it directly upward.
There was a slam suggesting that whatever trapdoor had opened up had just closed, but that was fine so long as his web stuck.
Milliseconds passed. Too many. His web didn't stick.
That wasn't good.
He immediately stuck his hands and feet out, hoping there were walls within reach. Peter usually didn't like to catch himself this way because his palms usually ended up scratched and burned from the friction, but it was his only backup plan.
His hands found walls, but no friction. The walls were coated with something slippery. He kept falling.
This was officially bad. Bad and ominous. This smelled of sinister trap. And oil. Now Peter could smell the lubricant on the walls.
That would have been nice to notice five seconds ago.
His spider sense started up now, letting him know a collision was near. The ground was fast approaching. Or he was approaching the ground fast. Physics said that both views were right. Physics also said that this was going to hurt either way.
"Power Man!" Peter yelled, hoping the trapdoor wasn't soundproof as well as stick-proof. "I'm going to need some help down h—augh!"
The ground came at that moment.
Yup, that hurt.
Groaning, Peter felt around himself. He felt sore, but nothing seemed to be broken. The ground felt like concrete. It was fortunate that he was so durable, and the fall hadn't been too long. Peter estimated he had fallen about two floors. That was nothing; he'd fallen from higher. He could easily get up. In a minute. Or ten.
Nah, if this really was a trap, then it was safer to get up sooner than later.
He started with opening his eyes. There was plenty of light to see by. For Peter it was bright enough, so maybe it was supposed to be gloomy and dim. That was usually how bad guys liked it.
Looking around, it looked more and more like this was a trap. He was in a small room with no furniture. The walls were bare and crude concrete like the floor. The small black forms of cameras were visible in the corners.
Why did everyone want to film their attacks nowadays? Whatever happened to attacking people just for the sake of attacking them?
There was something wrong with that logic. He was getting far too used to dealing with evil supervillains.
Looking up, Peter noticed that the hole in the ceiling had closed up. He hadn't heard it slam like the first one, but then he had been sort of distracted with pain for the past few seconds. The trapdoor seemed to be made of a shiny metal. He could possibly break it open with a few good punches, but that didn't make a whole lot of sense if he wasn't able to climb back up the shaft he had fallen through.
Then he noticed there was another potential way out. A door composed of a different metal was set into one wall. It was more rusted than the trapdoor, so it would probably be easier to break open. Unless it was already unlocked.
Unlocked doors weren't necessarily a good thing in a trap, though. They usually suggested that you were meant to go in that direction, which could lead to all kinds of bad things.
But a door was still a door, and it seemed like the only viable way out. Sometimes there was no obvious way to outwit your captor.
Ignoring his protesting muscles, Peter got his hands underneath him and began to push himself up to a kneeling position. His spider sense buzzed suddenly, but his head was cloudy from the impact. Where was he supposed to move to—?
Sning!
"AUGHsssss!"
Something snapped around his wrists. Something sharp and painful enough to garner a scream and a hiss all in one. Peter hadn't known he could do that. Unable to wipe the tears that had sprung up behind his lenses, he blinked until he could see whatever had attacked him.
They were handcuffs. Or manacles, really. Thick, steel manacles that had come up from the floor. They were bolted to the ground.
If only he had looked down instead of up.
They didn't look tight, but they still hurt so much. Fearing the worst, Peter tested his theory by shifting one wrist.
Ow. Yes, the manacles were serrated inside.
Whoever had set this up wanted him to stay put.
Peter was beginning to get an awful feeling that he knew was behind this.
Luke guided the team to the closet, pointing at the trapdoor. "He's behind there. It sounded like it's pretty deep." He held up the speaker. "This is what lured him over here. It sounded like someone was hiding in the closet."
Danny's mouth was set in a thin line. "You were unable to break it open?"
"Not on my own. I've been trying. But you and Nova should be able to do it with some firepower."
"On it," Sam said. He flew forward, aiming a bright beam directly at one edge of the trapdoor. Danny rammed his flaming fist on the other end. It didn't dent easily, but it soon became evident that they were making progress.
"He hasn't used his communicator yet," Ava noted grimly. "Has he tried calling out to you?"
"Once. I haven't heard him since." Luke watched her look around the room. "We thought Cloak and Dagger might be staying here. It looks lived in."
"Looks lived in," Ava emphasized. "It doesn't smell lived in. This was staged."
"I was afraid of that."
Sam and Danny's banging abruptly stopped.
"What's wrong?" Ava asked. But they shushed her.
"Listen."
A distant scream of pain echoed up from below. They stared at each other for a brief moment.
"Don't stop!" Ava demanded suddenly. "You've hardly put a dent in it! Keep going!" She was breathing heavily now. Luke's own heart was beating fast.
They had to save Peter.
Peter knew Luke had seen him fall, so he had no doubt that his friends were already looking for him. He still wished his communicator was accessible though. He hoped it was working. It probably wasn't. He would have heard the team's messages by now.
It would have been nice to hear them.
As sure as he was that they would save him, he couldn't help but worry that it would take too long. Normally, he wouldn't mind too much. Supervillains usually spent enough time monologuing that he often never really got tortured. His worst experience had been with Doctor Octopus, and all he had lost then was a few vials of blood that had eventually become Venom. Doc Ock had been way too preoccupied with his work to cause much damage.
But . . . today Peter was afraid. Because he was beginning to piece the clues together, and he didn't like the picture they made.
He felt sort of silly being so afraid. If he was right, then this wasn't even one of the strongest villains he had ever faced.
"Hello, little Spider," said the Russian voice Peter had been dreading. "I believe this is the first time I ever set out to capture you specifically. I admit I'm surprised it worked so perfectly."
The door opened, creaking loudly, revealing the burly and furred figure of Kraven. Kraven the Hunter, who usually hunted beasts and magical animal artifacts.
Peter wasn't the latter, so he must be the former.
His breathing was fast and shallow.
"Do not get me wrong, I am quite sure of my hunting abilities," Kraven continued. He hadn't fully entered the room yet. He remained standing in the doorway, hands behind his back. "Very few have ever escaped Kraven. But you are a wily one, and most of my expertise lies in animals. You are as human as you are animal, so I wasn't sure which methods to use. However, this worked very well."
Peter licked his dry lips. He had to say something. He also had to make sure his voice didn't waiver while he said it. "E—expanding your repertoire, hm? If your career didn't still revolve around every possible definition of animal cruelty, I would say you've made a smart choice."
Kraven's face lit up. "Was that a stutter I heard?"
"I just survived a huge drop onto concrete. You should be happy I'm talking at all."
"Bah! Lie as much as you want, but I can smell your fear."
"Can you really smell fear? I've always wondered if that's possible. I know plenty of people with really good senses of smell, but no one has ever told me they can smell fear. Sure, there are a lot of biochemical reactions involved in—"
"Too many words, Spider," Kraven interrupted. "You ought to be wondering why I brought you here."
"I thought you did this for the thrill of the hunt? And now is the part where you let me go so you can hunt me all over again."
To his surprise, Kraven laughed. "You are funny, I will grant you that. But your humor isn't quite to my tastes." He pulled a hand out from behind his back, revealing the syringe it held. "This is what I find funny."
Peter's heartbeat sounded loud in his ears. He wondered if Kraven could hear it. He felt his mouth move almost on its own accord. "I've already had my flu shot, thanks."
Moving casually yet menacingly, Kraven began to stroll forward. Even with the slow movement, Peter's gaze focused on him and the needle. The rest of the room faded into a blur. Selective camera focus, Peter had named the annoying reflex. But he hardly noticed the difference this time.
"I understand that you probably can't identify the formula like this," Kraven said, flicking the syringe. "The last time you encountered this poison, it was a blow-dart in your neck."
Now his mouth wasn't even on autopilot anymore. Peter cast around for something to say. "There's not even a name for it."
Some part of him shamefully acknowledged that that wasn't even a joke.
"You're right. I suppose it hasn't been encountered often enough to earn a name. Perhaps I should name it. What do you think of the Kraven Beast Maker?"
"That's accurate," Peter mumbled.
"It doesn't really have the right ring to it though, does it? Maybe the Feralizer? That sounds much better. Rolls off the tongue nicely. Let's inject you with some Feralizer!"
"No." Peter pulled back, hardly registering the small blades digging into his wrists.
"Yes," Kraven insisted. He glanced up at the trapdoor. There might have been far-off banging noises. Peter couldn't be sure with the banging of his own heart. "You must be fully transformed by the time your friends arrive."
"NO! Don't!"
The fragments of horrific thoughts in Peter's head seemed to crystallize into one idea, one goal.
His friends were going to be in danger. He was going to put his friends in danger.
He needed to stop this before it started.
"Are you . . . afraid?" Kraven asked, perhaps honestly confused. "I thought you were supposed to rebel to the end! Most prey don't beg for mercy. I am disappointed."
And Kraven began closing the distance between them. Peter pushed his legs beneath himself so he was crouched instead of kneeling. With his wrists secured so tightly to the floor, he realized that he wouldn't have the freedom of movement to keep Kraven away.
He needed to get free.
He pulled. Concrete cracked.
"Stop that!" Kraven demanded. He lunged forward, holding the syringe out, but Peter twisted far enough to kick him back. "Gah! You're going to rip your hands off before the transformation begins! I need you to have every natural weapon at your disposal!"
Another pull. Metal creaked.
Kraven rushed him from the other side now. Peter managed to rotate the manacles' position in the floor, allowing him to dodge. Kraven overshot, but had plenty of room to stop himself before he hit the opposite wall.
Kraven's voice was low and deadly. "You are just prolonging the inevitable, Spider. You are not getting out of here without this poison in your veins. Only then will you be free." He paused, eyes glittering maliciously. "I wonder if, after you defeat your team, you'll remember enough to go wherever you call home. Maybe Shield will already be waiting for you there. Maybe not."
(As focused as he was on escaping, Peter dimly noted when his heart went cold. He was already well aware of the fears that might become reality in this moment, but somehow he had missed that scenario. He had sort of assumed he just wouldn't remember such things as a spider monster.)
(Remembering or forgetting. He didn't know which was worse.)
One more pull. A plume of cement dust. And Peter was somewhat free.
"You are infuriating," Kraven said, accent causing him to linger on the R's. "You're lucky I don't plan to kill you tonight."
Peter felt like he ought to have a quirky rejoinder to that. Something fun and annoying to lighten the mood and start the fight off on the right foot. But he was far too preoccupied with the needle, because the joke would be over the moment it pierced his skin. He needed to keep it away until his team arrived. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He wouldn't let it happen again. Couldn't.
Except he literally had his hands tied. That meant no punching, no webs, no proper wall-crawling. How was he ever going to last long enough?
Well, there were a few things he still had. Like super strength, and . . .
Taking a deep breath, Peter focused on the growing buzz of his spider sense. If he listened to it properly (for once), it could help him dodge nearly anything; the one thing he could trust to lead him away from the syringe regardless of his other current shortcomings.
Kraven came at him again, and Peter let his fear guide him.
Fight or flight. That's what this was. The same as always. Fight or flight.
(There wasn't much room for flight.)
"Got it!"
Sam supercharged a punch with some blast power, finally making a hole through the trapdoor. "It's dark," he noted "I'll fly down first." He disappeared within.
Luke and Ava immediately vied for the spot Nova had just vacated. Being smaller, Ava was able to squeeze past him. Luke stopped trying to squeeze into the closet and resumed pacing.
Normally, Luke wasn't used to waiting on the sidelines. He was the team's tank, the one who went in first to draw away the enemy's fire. He was one of the strongest alongside Peter.
'Peter was strong'. A thought like that should have helped Luke feel better.
It didn't. Not after the screams.
In fact, now that the trapdoor was gone, the noises from below were less muffled. There were shouts, but nothing that Luke could make out.
"There's another metal door," Sam reported. "I can hear them on the other side. It doesn't sound good. Iron Fist, you wanna squeeze in to help?"
Danny unceremoniously stepped forward, falling straight through the hole. Luke took his place so he could finally peer inside. A few dozen feet below was the tiny glowing figure of Nova. Danny could only be seen as a shrinking silhouette. The glow and the shadow seemed to collide.
"Ouch!" Sam yelled. "You could warn me next time!"
"Ask and you shall receive," Danny quoted. He lit his fist, adding an orangey light to Sam's yellow.
Before their banging recommenced, Luke heard the echoes of Peter's struggle. He was hissing. A lot. That meant he was scared, and angry, and probably hurt.
And there was a guttural scream that was far too deep to be Peter's.
"It is Kraven," Ava growled from beside Luke. "Sounds like Spidey's hitting him hard. But why did he go after Spider-Man instead of me this time?"
"Maybe this trap really was meant for you, but Spidey fell for it?" Luke suggested.
"No, this is too specific." Reaching down, Ava rubbed a finger on the wall of the hole and held it up for Luke to see. The white cloth was stained black. "That's oil. Really slippery oil. This smooth metal alone would have prevented me from climbing out, but it takes a lubricant to keep Spider-Man off the walls."
It was solid evidence. Luke had never been a huge fan of cop shows, but he connected the dots. "If you're right, then do you think Kraven became interested in Spider-Man after what happened in the Savage Lands?"
"That's the only thing that makes sense. But that's bad. Very bad."
"Why is it any worse than usual?"
Ava's already low voice dropped to a faint whisper. "Kraven hunts the rarest animals for sport. If he sees Pete as some kind of human spider monster now, then he's probably aiming to get a pelt out of this or something."
"But Spidey's back to his old, mostly human self."
"I doubt Kraven sees that. Besides," she said with a snarl. "he has no qualms about killing people."
Luke remembered her father far too late. Ava didn't like to talk about it, but he knew Kraven had killed him for the amulet. Luke glanced at the glowing green eyes of the amulet at her waist. Even after the few times they had encountered Kraven, it was still hard to believe that his main goal was to kill Ava.
And now Kraven might be after Peter too.
Kraven was quickly gaining rank on the team's informal 'Most Wanted' list.
"We've almost got it open!" Sam's voice came from their communicators this time. "Power Man, you wanna finish the job with a power dive?"
"Sure thing."
Allowing Sam and Danny a few seconds to press against the sides of the chute, Luke threw himself down.
Peter was ready to throw himself at Kraven again, but he was getting tired. Having to do everything without his arms and hands was hard. So instead he ran up one of the walls to get a few brief seconds of rest before he had to move again.
The room seemed so much smaller once the fighting started. There was nowhere he could go to get out of arm's reach.
But he had gotten the syringe out of Kraven's hand. He didn't remember when that had happened during their fast and furious fight, but he had seen it clatter to the ground along with a bunch of other weapons Kraven had pulled out of his fur suit. And that was the main thing. Now all he had to do was stay safe until his team got through.
That was easier said than done when Kraven had that murderous glint in his eyes.
"You've made me angry now," Kraven muttered, as he stooped to grab one of his many fallen daggers. He grabbed it with his left hand, his right held limp at his side. It really was amazing the number of weapons that could fit under his furs. Kraven shifted his weight from foot to foot, obviously strategizing another attack.
Peter hissed at him. On purpose. Hissing seemed to make Kraven pause. Whether that was out of fear or something else, Peter had no idea, but he was thankful to take any advantage he could at this point. His adrenaline was wearing thin, and hopelessness was beginning to set in.
He had tried ramming into both the door in the wall and the trapdoor in the ceiling. Neither had given way, and Kraven had informed him that he had reinforced them.
There was no feasible way Peter could get out of this on his own. At least, not in a sane state of mind.
The thought had occurred to him that growing four extra arms would be helpful right now. But then he remembered his nightmares, and he immediately dismissed the awful idea.
Kraven pounced, but there was a loud bang before he even reached Peter. Something yellow fell through the trapdoor, followed by something white. The white blur kept moving, so it quickly came into focus for Peter.
It was White Tiger. The other one was Power Man. The two bright figures that came next were Nova and Iron Fist.
Peter sagged in relief. It would be okay now. It would be okay.
"White Tiger!" Kraven sounded surprised as he accidentally ran into her fist. He clutched his bleeding nose. "You—er . . . not da prize I 'as looking for today." He almost sounded drunk.
"Kraven." Ava paused just long enough to acknowledge him coldly. "You're not supposed to be around here any day. Power Man, shall we?"
As they ran at Kraven, Sam and Danny came to Peter. Wincing, Peter lowered himself to ground level. Sam flew up to assist him. The support continued even when they were on the ground. Now that he no longer needed to deal with the threat, all Peter was left with was the remnants of intense fear. And that made his legs feel like jelly.
If Sam's aura wasn't so warm and comfortable, Peter might have felt more embarrassed.
Well, the fact that it was so comforting was a little embarrassing, but it wasn't worth pushing him away. He was only trying to help. And succeeding at that. For once. Sometimes Sam surprised him.
"You all right?" Sam asked.
Peter glanced down at himself. The front of his suit was splattered with blood. His gloves were entirely red from it. But that was all from the dratted manacles. The rest of him seemed to be okay, maybe a nick here and there at most. "I—I'm mostly okay." Peter winced when his voice cracked. "There are blades in these, so . . . yeah."
"Blades?" Danny asked incredulously.
"Small ones, I think. Like little spikes. I doubt these'll come off easily, but maybe take a quick peek? No pulling though. I tried." Peter gingerly held out his arms. He tried to focus on Danny's masked face instead of his blood-soaked hands, but now that Danny was still, he was beginning to look blurry again.
Peter's new selective focus was as annoying as it was helpful, but at least he still remembered how to handle bad vision from years of experience. Between that and his other senses, he could get by without giving up his usual grace as Spider-Man. And without anyone knowing. Another unintentional lie.
"I do not think I can remove them safely," Danny admitted regretfully. "Are you sure there is not anything else? I have some numbing herbs."
"Um . . ." Peter shifted, trying to get his feet under himself properly, but stopped when pain lanced across his side. He hissed softly. "Ah, I forgot about one thing. He got me in the side with this tiny axe. Well, it was relatively tiny for an axe."
"Wow, are you being honest for once?" Sam asked in mock shock. "I mean, not that we would have believed you if you had tried to say you were fine."
Peter exhaled in a sort of laugh. "Cut me some slack, will you?" The words tickled at his memory, and he found himself curious all over again. "Say, that reminds me; with the hissy fit thing . . . is that how you guys always know when I'm lying about being hurt?"
Danny chuckled as he rubbed some smelly anointment into Peter's side. "I like to think we know you well enough by now, but it helps, yes."
Peter nodded. That was actually good to know.
The sounds of Kraven's scuffle were slowing. Peter looked over to see that he was falling to the ground, Ava and Luke standing over him. Luke grabbed an exceptionally long dagger from the floor, bending it into makeshift handcuffs. But that seemed to be just a precaution. Kraven looked unconscious.
"Kraven's down," Ava confirmed. "Thanks for softening him up, Spidey. How are you doing?"
"I'm good," Peter assured her. "Thanks for the save."
"We're here for you," Luke said. "I'm just upset I didn't realize it was a setup before you fell."
"Neither of us did. It was a really good trap, all things considered."
"What did Kraven even want you for anyway? He was desperately trying to grab this." Luke bent down, reaching for something on the ground. Peter squinted to see.
"Don't! Don't touch it!" Peter yelled when he saw it was the syringe. Luke pulled back, and Peter forced himself to speak more calmly. This was hard because it felt like his heart was beating like a hummingbird in his throat again, which was where it had been for most of the fight. "That's—it's—it's the poison."
Even from this distance, Peter heard Ava inhale sharply. "You mean the same stuff from the Savage Lands?"
"Yeah."
"Did he inject you?" Danny asked. He sounded worried. He had every right to worry.
Peter shook his head, found that he was breathing quickly again. "No, I—I didn't let him. Not again. I didn't want to—to—It would have been bad."
Sam's grip tightened briefly, comfortingly. "You protected yourself to protect us. Only you can avoid seeming selfish even while you are selfish."
"Well, I generally try to avoid getting stabbed as a rule," Peter replied, gradually getting his groove back.
Sam sighed as if he was about to explain something exceedingly obvious. "You lasted like ten minutes in here with your hands literally tied. We heard you. You had quite the hissy fit with Elmer Fudd the Hunter over there."
Even though Danny's numbing herbs hadn't kicked in yet, Peter laughed at the joke.
Bending his neck forward, Sam faced Peter. Eye contact didn't mean a whole lot when wearing masks, but it was the thought that counted. Sam's grin was visible at least, and it was the type he always got when he was on a roll. "Look at that, your fangs even poked holes in your mask. Did you try to put on a scary face? I know you're not the hottest guy at Midtown, but you should know better. Kraven has seen way worse in the mirror."
Holes in his mask? Pushing back some memories, Peter stuck his tongue out to check. He would have to be more careful when hissing if it could rip his masks. His tongue brushed up against his fangs, which were still extended tensely.
He tasted blood.
The blood tasted like it wasn't his.
(He didn't even know how he knew that, but he did.)
And then he realized that the memories he was trying to repress were far too recent to be his nightmares.
"Oh my god," Peter muttered. And then he repeated himself. "Oh my god."
Sam's grin slipped away. "What's wrong?"
"I—I . . ."
"You are hyperventilating," Danny said. "Calm yourself. Channel your breaths"
Peter shook his head. He couldn't do that. It wasn't working.
"Careful," Ava said from close by. Peter hadn't noticed her and Luke's approach. "You're going to make yourself pass out."
She was right. His vision was graying out at the edges, which was a shame because it had only just started to clear up. Peter felt bad that after everything he went through today it was plain old shock that pushed him over the edge. But at least Sam was already holding him up. He gasped for air and forced himself to say what he needed to.
"I b—I bit him. I bit Kraven."
And darkness fell upon him.
