Chapter One
From above, where the sky wears its rainy cloak, heavy raindrops pour down, painting New York's streets with a faint glow that embraces the sidewalks.
The camera glides smoothly, slipping between hearts pulsing with life, as people embrace the rain under their umbrellas, as if clinging to hope amid the storm.
Inside a shabby, worn-down apartment, a single room forms a miniature world, and a simple kitchen cradles memories of a harsh life.
There, Peter Parker, a young man with jet-black hair and dark, weary eyes, bears on his face the marks of exhaustion, as if he carries the weight of the world in his palms.
Dressed in his work uniform, fatigue leaks through, enveloping him completely.
He entered his apartment, his features reflecting the pallor of the soul and the wounds of the heart, and his voice came out pale, like a whisper in the wind:
> "Just another exhausting day… always casting its heavy shadow."
Slowly, he removed his uniform and put on a blue pajama — a shelter from the darkness of the day.
He sat in front of his old, white computer, one that had witnessed years of broken dreams.
He scrolled through Instagram, as if searching within others' pictures for a sliver of light to calm his troubled heart.
As Peter was browsing through Instagram in his usual solitude, he suddenly stopped — as if time itself had frozen.
He saw a picture of Mary Jane...
She wore a blue dress that flowed on her like water. Her long golden hair shimmered beneath the evening lights, and her blue eyes sparkled with a strange light...
She was smiling — not at him, but at another man.
A man of wealth, confident steps, holding her like the whole world belonged to them alone.
Peter's eyes widened in shock. His breath froze.
He muttered softly, torn between dream and reality:
> "Ma... Mary Jane?"
He jumped up, rage igniting in his eyes like a volcano long dormant.
He rushed toward his closet in the eastern corner of his tiny room.
He flung the door open violently — and there it was, hanging in silence:
His old suit… red with white patterns, classic like his memories, heavy with meaning.
Without hesitation, he wore it like a warrior dons his armor — and charged toward the window.
He paused briefly, the wind playing with his mask, and then leapt like an angry phantom between the buildings, his webs swinging between pillars like threads of fate pulling him toward a painful truth.
(In a broken inner voice, full of betrayal)
> "Mary Jane… why did you betray me?
I hope… it was just my eyes deceiving me, not you."
From atop a tall building, Spider-Man stood, watching from afar.
There — to the right — a nightclub shimmered with loud lights.
And he saw her… entering with her new lover, laughing, as if nothing from the past ever mattered.
The city below him remained the same...
But his heart?
It had collapsed.
Inside the nightclub, under flashing lights and pounding music, men and women swayed with rhythm, their bodies melting into the beat, smiles glowing in the frenzy of light.
Mary Jane stood beside a sharply dressed man, his eyes pitch-black like midnight, his short blue hair perfectly styled. His name was Martin, a British businessman with a commanding presence.
Mary Jane (with a soft voice and shy smile):
> "Thank you, darling… I'm really glad I met you."
Martin (responding with a confident smile):
> "So am I... This is, without a doubt, the best day of my life."
He gently extended his left hand toward her:
> "Come, let's sit at that table for a bit."
Suddenly, that magical moment was shattered by a firm voice, echoing through the walls like a slap:
> "Stop right there!"
Everyone turned their heads, laughter died in throats, and the music seemed to slow — as if time itself broke.
A man in a black formal suit stood confidently, his eyes sharp like blades.
It was... Peter Parker.
Mary Jane's face went pale. Her gaze trembled.
Martin raised his eyebrows in surprise and confusion.
Martin (calmly):
> "Who are you? And what do you want from us?"
Peter Parker (stepping forward, voice heavy with pain):
> "You… have no right to talk to her."
Martin (bewildered):
> "I don't understand… Who are you talking about?"
Peter (his words like knives):
> "I'm talking... about Mary Jane."
Mary Jane (nervously yelling):
> "Peter! Stop! Don't say a word!"
Peter (in disbelief, eyes narrowing as if searching for the truth):
> "And why should I stop?"
Martin (turning to Mary Jane, eyes pleading):
> "Do you… know him?"
Peter (shouting, voice cutting through the music like a blade):
> "Don't say her name! And if you do… be ready for the consequences."
The club's security moved toward Peter, eyes stern.
But Peter didn't budge.
His eyes burned with the fire of jealousy and shattered love.
The world around him slowed. The air thickened...
His rage...
was turning into something greater.
Peter Parker (with a faint smile, hiding wounds unseen):
> "So it's true, Mary… Was money enough to blind your heart, to make you turn your back on us,
on our story,
on the boy who once believed love alone was enough?"
Mary Jane (with a trembling, sad voice):
> "And what are we now, Peter?
We were never meant to be. We were just two shadows meeting under borrowed light. Nothing more… nothing less."
Peter Parker (laughing bitterly, tears burning behind his eyes):
> "How ironic…
That I've gone from hero...
to a dog chasing money in your eyes."
Mary Jane (steps toward him, rage flashing in her eyes — she raises her right hand and slaps him hard. The sound echoes through the nightclub).
Crowd (in shocked unison):
> "Oooooooh!"
Peter Parker (eyes widening, his face frozen — not from pain, but from sudden clarity):
Mary Jane (angrily, tears barely held back):
> "Forget me. Erase my name from your memory… and don't you dare come near me ever again!"
Peter tried to speak.
Tried to defend himself.
But the words choked in his throat.
He looked at the crowd… faces watching, whispering, judging without knowing.
The betrayal wasn't just words.
It was a boulder crushing his chest.
He wanted to speak…
But silence betrayed him.
He stepped back slowly, then turned… and ran.
Ran as if running was his only salvation.
In a narrow alleyway, he raised his hands toward the sky.
He fired his web.
It latched onto the risin
g dawn on the side of a tall building.
He swung into the air…
While the shadows of the city swallowed him whole.
And all that remained behind...
Was a broken heart,
And a hero...
Hurting in silence.
The sky is gray, burdened with clouds as if carrying the weight of the world.
The air is heavy, silent—time itself hesitates to move.
The camera slowly rises, from the ground to the sky, capturing the faded gray facade of a building, standing like a stone creature worn down by the endless noise of a city that never sleeps.
To the left of the frame, he appears —
Spider-Man.
Sitting at the edge of the wall, his body exhausted,
his right leg bent, hands stretched behind him on the rooftop,
his head resting against the wall, as if propping up the silence of a burdened heart.
Spider-Man (softly, yet with fury, like a scream trapped inside):
> "Why...? Why must love conquer a man?
Isn't it supposed to be salvation?
A miracle we long for... not the chains that bind us?"
---
Interior Scene – Inside the Same Gray Building
Darkness haunts the corners, and silence echoes with itself.
Suddenly...
a black substance oozes from the shadows, crawling like a faceless being—
but it's alive with awareness... and rage.
It's not just a shadow...
It's Venom.
It slithers across the walls, climbs the ceiling as if the place belongs to it,
searching for a host...
a new body to inhabit.
The rage in Spider-Man's chest burns like a volcano—
not one seeking eruption,
but transformation.
Spider-Man (low, tense voice, hiding a threat):
> "Should I shed what remains of my humanity?
Should I redefine love... rip it out from within me like torn fabric?"
Venom crawls silently like a black serpent, slithering toward his left hand...
Time is not on his side.
Spider-Man (with a bitter smirk, whispering as if mocking himself):
> "What a pathetic irony...
Mary Jane loved Spider-Man...
but she never loved Peter Parker.
She loved the mask... not the man beneath it."
Venom touches his palm, begins crawling upward—absorbing him,
as darkness swallows the last glimmer of light.
Spider-Man (his voice laced with painful clarity):
> "Love... is nothing but a decorated illusion.
It's time I tear it from my memory like a bad dream.
It has no place left in my heart."
Venom starts enveloping his suit, black smoke creeping like a shadow across the city skyline, climbing toward his neck.
Spider-Man (his eyes empty, voice like stone):
> "I'll still save lives...
But I won't let them break through my walls again.
I won't love... I won't trust...
I won't shatter."
In a heavy silence, the transformation completes.
The black suit wraps his body entirely.
The red is gone.
Only darkness remains.
He is no longer Peter...
Not just a hero anymore.
He's become something else.
The camera slowly pulls back, the city beneath still asleep, unaware that its protector has changed.
His
eyes glisten in black.
The sky is heavy.
And the future... is uncertain.
End of Chapter.