Chapter 7: Bruises and Shadows
The city blurred beneath him as Spider-Man swung through the night. He was so tired he just wanted to go home go sleep and not think what happen but his mind wont stop replaying the fight if you could even call that
[flashback ]
As the fight began, it was painfully clear who held more experience.
Spider-Man fired a webline at one of Kingpin's black SUVs, muscles straining as he yanked. The car screeched across the pavement before lifting off the ground. With a final heave, Peter hurled it like a wrecking ball straight at the back of Kingpin's head.
But Fisk didn't even flinch.
With one massive hand, he caught the car mid air stopping several tons of steel as if it were nothing. The headlights flickered in his grip, tires still spinning uselessly above the ground.
"Is this all the little bug has to offer?" Kingpin chuckled, his voice rumbling like thunder. He smirked, adjusting his stance. "Here—have it back."
The car whipped forward like a missile. Peter's spider-sense screamed, flooding his skull with static. At the last possible instant, he fired twin webs—latching onto the hood, twisting his whole body into a desperate spin. He barely redirected the vehicle off-course, sending it skidding across the concrete instead of crushing him flat.
In the heat of the moment he got tunnel vision he was to focus on the car that
Too late.
Kingpin was already there. His massive hand clamped around Peter mid-air like a bear trap.
The next second—SLAM!
The impact shook the dock. Spider-Man's body drove into the pavement with such force that concrete cracked and caved inward, leaving a jagged, man-shaped crater. Dust and debris burst outward in a choking cloud.
Groaning, Peter forced himself up, limbs trembling, only for a shadow to fall over him.
WHAM!
Kingpin's fist came down like a sledgehammer, smashing him back into the hole he had just crawled out of.
Spider-Man shot up to his feet leaping back to put some distance between himself and the mountain of a man.
But the effort drained him. He dropped to one knee, chest heaving, each breath burning his lungs. His vision was blurry the world around him blurring into shadows. He could barely keep one eye open, his telling him to stay down
Kingpin didn't move. He stood there calm, composed, as if he hadn't even broken a sweat. His voice rumbled across the docks, heavy with contempt.
"Already finished, little spider? Is this all you got i thought you would have at least last longer" king pin says while making his next move ending this.
Kingpin charged, each step shaking the ground like a war drum.
Spider-Man staggered back, one arm clutching his ribs, blood wetting the inside of his mask. A rough cough tore from his throat.
"Cough… cough…" He straightened, forcing his legs to hold. "It's not little spider" his voice rose, raw and furious. "it's SPIDER-MAN!"
With a final roar, Peter launched upward, his fist crashing into Kingpin's jaw. The uppercut landed clean, lifting the crime lord off his feet and sending his massive frame flying across the warehouse. He smashed through a row of steel beams and vanished into a storm of dust.
The dust cloud swallowed Kingpin's massive frame, metal screeching as beams collapsed around him. For a heartbeat, Peter just stood there, chest heaving, sweat and blood stinging his eyes.
Spiderman immediately jumps up and shoots a webline to the nearest building.
Spider-Man immediately jumped up, firing a webline to the nearest building.
"This isn't over, Kingpin!" he shouted, his voice low and sharp. "Next time, it'll be you running away."
The words carried so much venom that even some of Kingpin's men froze, unease flickering across their faces.
[End of flashback]
"Cough… cough…" Peter collapsed onto a rooftop, clutching his ribs.
"Aghhh!" he cried out, pain tearing through him. His mask muffled the sound, but it still echoed against the city night.
"Damn it…" he hissed through clenched teeth. "Next time… I have to win." His fists tightened. "No. I will win."
Peter finally made it back home. His body was giving out.
He tore off his mask, chest rising and falling in ragged bursts. His face was pale, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and blood. For a moment, he just lay there, the only sound in the room his own shallow breathing.
But silence didn't last.
The TV flickered in the corner of Peter's room, static buzzing faintly over the reporter's voice.
"Breaking news tonight out of the harbor…" the anchor said, images of smoke and fire filling the screen. "Authorities arrived at the docks to find dozens of men unconscious, weapons scattered, and several warehouses in flames. Sources say the fire destroyed a massive shipment of narcotics before it could be distributed."
The camera panned across the chaos — burned crates, police taping off the scene, ambulances hauling gangsters away.
"No suspects are in custody," the anchor continued. "Police are still investigating what sparked the violence between Fisk Enterprises and rival factions. At this time, it is unclear who, if anyone, was responsible for stopping the drugs from leaving the harbor."
Peter sat slumped against his bed, an ice pack pressed against his ribs. His mask lay discarded on the nightstand, the white lenses staring blankly at him.
He let out a rough laugh that cracked halfway through.
"Well… at least the drugs didn't hit the streets," he muttered, wincing at the pain in his chest. "Guess that's a win. Even if no one knows it was me."
The glow of the TV flickered against his bruises, but his mind wasn't on the news anymore.
It was still back at the docks.
Still hearing those footsteps.
The anchor's tone shifted.
"Several witnesses on the scene described seeing… a figure," she said carefully, pausing as if she didn't quite believe it herself. "According to police reports, multiple gang members claim a 'man in red and blue' was swinging between buildings, using webs."
Peter froze. His hand gripped the ice pack tighter.
The screen cut to shaky cellphone footage.. A dark silhouette swung across the flames, a thin line stretching behind him. The camera shook as the person filming shouted in disbelief.
"Police have not confirmed these claims," the anchor continued, "but this supposed 'masked vigilante' is being described as wearing a full-body costume with large white eyes. Authorities are urging caution, it not clear if the he is dangerous or not.
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