Peter's Room.
Am I dead?
He should be.
No... That can't be right.
I'm alive?
Peter woke up to a familiar white ceiling. His eyes squinted open as he tried to take in the world around him. Peter's drowsy gaze landed on the familiar ceiling in a sleepy daze, as if he was just waking up in a dream, unable to accept that it was only a nightmare. His bed was too comfortable, he didn't want to move, and he didn't feel like moving.
The serum healed him. It saved him.
It did? What happened?
His confusion faded when, gradually, memories from the previous night started coming back.
He...He had walked home? No, that's not right...
He died last night.
I DIED!
Peter quickly shot up in shock and panic, instinctively checking the state of his body in fear. His hands grasped his face. Trembling as he felt his skin.
The pain was gone!
He checked his body. Hands… Peter quickly clenched both fists, checking both sides with extreme focus.
"No claws." He noted under his breath.
He clenched and unclenched them, intently scrutinizing every detail from the lines on his palms to the knuckles on the back of his hands. No scales. No green pigment either.
"What the fuck?" He took a breath.
He then moved on to the rest of his body. Chest… Elbows… Hair... Peter made sure to check every part of his body for abnormalities.
His hair was ok, his scalp too.
Toes… He quickly glanced at his legs and wiggled his toes. Wait... TAIL!
He turned to look behind him to check on his tail, only to remember he didn't have a tail anymore, not only that. The hunger was gone and his senses were no longer as acute as they were when he took the serum.
Right, I don't have a tail, come on Pete. The serum must have worn off completely, but that doesn't explain anything, what's happening?
"How did I even get to my room?" Peter let out a shaking breath.
He was in his room, but that thought just made things worse. He ran hands through his hair, tugging at the strands softly stopping short of pulling them from their roots.
His confusion frustrated him.
Calm down... Breathe...What happened last night?
Closing his eyes, he started to take deep breaths to calm himself—his heart still hammered in his chest. Panicking wouldn't help him. There was no pain. Lifting his shirt, he checked for wounds, but nothing was there. Only unblemished skin reflected in his eyes.
That's... That's impossible...
The more he considered his situation, the more impossible it seemed to be. Peter pushed his shirt back down with a perturbed look on his face.
In... Out... In... Out... Inhale... Exhale...
I'm not dead. I can still feel my body and I'm in my room right now of all places. No lizard skin, no pain, no tail, nothing out of place. I'm alive. He considered in astonishment. I'm alive? At that moment, it hit him like a wave, his breath hitched. His hands began to shake, trembling feverishly. Peter stared at his hands as the thought settled in.
I'm Alive! Peter let out a shaky breath.
"Holy shit...I'm Alive" he whispered in shock and relief. Peter's lips quivered and slowly he began to smile as an involuntary chuckle filled the room.
"I'm alive... hahaha... I'm alive... hahaahaha. I'm alive... haha... Sob... Sob... I'm... Al-Alive... hahahahaha... I... I... I'm alive." He laughed somberly. Each word came out louder and firmer, as if to reassure himself that he was alive, that he hadn't died.
His eyes felt watery. What-what the fuck is wrong with me?
Peter realized he wasn't laughing anymore. His joyful laugh steadily descended into silent sobs. Fuck. I'm alive. He hugged his knees up to his chest in a fetal position to rest his head.
What the fuck happened last night?
Hours must have passed, but he hardly noticed. He remained sitting on his bed. He tried to rationalize his situation, but nothing worked. Peter couldn't understand any of it.
He was sure he had died last night.
How am I even alive? He contemplated as the shock, and the confusion gradually passed, thus giving way to his rational thoughts.
How is this even possible? He really could not make heads or tails of his situation. Peter doubted there were any words in the dictionary that could accurately describe whatever this was.
He felt like a piece of him was missing.
Everything was still fresh in his mind: the pain, the anguish, the breaking of his bones, his flesh twisting and ripping.
Everything hurting...
The pain, the hunger, the need to feed...
Feed...To feel his claws sink into flesh... To consume and satiate his hunger...
He needed to feed on flesh...
***
I NEED TO FEED! EVerYthing HUrts. SHe's gOINg toKILL MEEEE, why DOes eVErytThing HUrT SO MUCH! SPIDER-WOMAN! HELP MEEEE.
***
STOP IT! He grabbed his head in alarm, dread and anxiety creeping into him. He stopped himself before thoughts wandered too far. He forced himself to focus. It was strangely easier then he would have liked and the memory faded as quickly as it appeared.
He suddenly felt better. That was...easy. Too easy…
Slowly, he pulled his hands away and inspected his room. Peter noted the absence of blood or claw marks. He inspected the walls, his clothes on the floor, his desk, and his window.
Looking at the random things in the room was a welcoming distraction.
Everything was as it should be; it was normal, too normal.
Even the clothes he wore were the same ones from last night, the only difference being that they were no longer torn, ripped, or covered in dirt, dust, and blood. His clothes looked as they did before they were torn apart by his transformation.
It was too normal... The most abnormal thing about him was the lack of color in everything else.
It almost seemed grey, lingering effects of the serum, maybe?
"How the hell am I even here? How did I even get here? Maybe I am dead and this is some kind of purgatory?"
"Oh, you're not dead. Trust me, I'd know." A surprisingly melodic feminine voice interrupted.
"Ghaa! What the-what now?!" he startled, scrambled in surprise to the edge of his bed, far away from where the voice was coming from.
It was a woman.
She didn't seem like a person. She looked like one, sure, but there was this subtle air of ancient royalty about her.
Her presence radiated something different, profound, and dark.
It permeated the space around her, a feeling akin to an accepted finality, as if eventually a person wouldn't know it or understand it, but they would have no choice but to accept her because that was her nature.
How the hell did I not notice a woman in my room?
It was her eyes that Peter noticed first, they had a haunting yellow glow, almost as if she could see inside his very soul.
She sat in his chair, not far from his bed, with one leg folded elegantly over the other. Her hands were folded over her chest. Dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt tucked under a dark blue denim jacket with tight black jeans and black ankle boots, she looked oddly familiar.
She watched him with narrowed, almost annoyed eyes, lips pursed, a contemplative look, one that expressed interest and irritation.
The strange intruder had long brunette hair and an oddly familiar face. She looked mature and attractive. Peter couldn't quite remember where or when he had seen her. His sudden familiarity with her face made him uncomfortable.
"Yes."
"What?" Peter blinked.
"I can see into your soul, a soul that shouldn't be here in any way, shape, or form."
"Riiiigghht... Said the strange lady in my room with yellow eyes." Peter said measuredly as he locked eyes with the woman. He internally cursed his habit, his mouth sometimes had the audacity of saying things without his permission; still, it wasn't his fault that his go to defense mechanism was sarcasm and quips. Where was everyone? Am I hallucinating right now?
"Nope. I'm real."
Peter froze. Did she just
"Yep." Her lips quirked into an amused smile.
"Okay! Okay! Timeout!" Peter quickly stood up and made a 'T' gesture with his hands. "This. This is too much. I am not doing this. We," Peter gestured between the two of them as he returned to his seat on his bed. "We, we're not doing this. I just went through some mind-blowing traumatic shit last night that I'm still not over yet. I'm not equipped to deal with whatever this is.
"So, if you could kindly explain to me who you are and why you're here and maybe also explain all the stuff that's happening to me right now. I'll ignore the fact that you just read my mind."
"Please," Peter added, well, pleaded was a more accurate description if he was being honest with himself.
"Think of this as a lucid dream." The woman began. "You died last night. That is true, at least for a moment. Your soul shouldn't be here. The dead should stay dead. I am, after all, the collector of souls."
Okay. So I did die. I died. She killed me. Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. Then, how am I even here? Peter was genuinely starting to panic, with equal parts terror and confusion, as more questions started piling up in his head. The woman's eerie grin didn't make it any better.
Come down. Breath. Come down. Let's see where this goes, Pete. Peter stopped himself before his thoughts ran wild. There it is again... There was this ease, and Peter found that he could rein in his emotions and control himself. He kept his facial expression as stoic as possible, because he was sweating up a storm, he doubted it had the intended effect on the woman.
"So, imagine my surprise when something I've already collected decided to not only walk out on its own and right back into its body but steal something from me as well." Her eyes were a deep, dark yellow. "Well, can you imagine?"
Ah. Of course. Collecting souls. Why not? I'm sure I can. Jesus, lady, are you nuts? The teen was on the verge of having a full-blown panic attack. There was a woman in his room with glowing eyes who could see his soul and read his mind, if her words were to be believed. This is crazy? What is she? What the hell is happening? Wait… Who even is she? And why the hell she does look so damn familiar? How the hell do you even come back from the dead? What is this?
He tried to say something but found himself at a loss for words. He could find the right words, but he couldn't even formulate a simple sentence. If I died, then what the fuck is this?
"What, what are you?" Peter finally asked.
"Oh, do keep up, Peter, I thought you were supposed to be one of the smart ones. But I suppose, given your present…situation, this should be expected." She sighed softly and chuckled under her breath.
"I'm Death, you idiot." She smiled coyly at him, almost as if she was laughing at an inside joke only she knew, all while gazing at Peter like he was some puzzle she couldn't wrap her head around.
No…
No freaking way...
Peter's eyes widened in astonishment, pupils dilating, and his breath hitched as his heart skipped a beat. A flash of recognition struck him like lightning striking the neurons in his brain. She didn't just look familiar, she was familiar. She was a bit younger but there's no mistaking that face. Take out yellow eyes and overbearing ancient presence and she looks just like her. How did I not see it? How? She wearing Mom's fucking face! Oh...
Holy shit, she isn't lying. Death is sitting across from me right now in my room...
Realization slowly dawned on his face as the entity answered his question, while the equal parts terror and confusion very quickly morphed into pure terror.
"I am many things, but a liar isn't one of them." The entity wearing the face of his late mother replied to his thoughts with an amused chuckle, only it sounded like something straight out of a stuff of nightmares. An image momentarily overlapped with hers. Her face and form started to momentarily glitch, reality and illusion bending and twisting as the image of his late mother was replaced with the image of a skull with grey skin, dressed in a purple dress.
Peter Parker did not piss himself that day. He was close, really close.
What exactly was one expected to do in the face of the freaking grim reaper- the embodiment of Death in the flesh?
Oddly enough, existential terror aside and given the circumstances, he was still surprisingly calm. He just didn't know why, but he guessed it had something to do with that ease he felt. Peter came to a the obvious conclusion after a moment of consideration, and Death, in all her mercy, left him to his thoughts.
She's here to drag me back to the afterlife, isn't she?
It wasn't hard to figure it out if he considered all the facts. He did die last night, and he woke up alive this morning, so obviously Death, being Death, is here to balance the scales.
Peter's mind had already accepted her for what she was. It was difficult for him to explain, but only an idiot would sit across from death and not know who and what she was. He could not describe the feeling he had right now; it would take a person to experience it to know it. It was like dying.
Oh god, the irony.
Death sat patiently as she watched him. Her lips twitched lightly as if she was struggling to hold herself back, her eyes twinkling with mirth, only Peter mistook that ominous yellow glow for something else, something far more sinister.
"Please don't kill me, I mean, I'm alive right now, right, so you can't actually kill the living, right, Mom? I mean, Death? I mean your greatness, I mean lord death, No sorry, sorry, I meant to say Lady Death, I mean just thinking about it, I don't think I am that important, and-and don't you have like other people to reap, you know more important people, if you do you should you know to go over there instead of wasting your time here with little old me, right, right so… Soo… Yeah… Please don't kill me..." The terrified teen did the only thing he could do when backed into a corner and that was the art of bullshitting. Thankfully, before he could embarrass himself further, Death's soft chuckle filled the room, one that bloomed into a burst of melodious laughter.
"hehehehHAAHAHAHAaahhaahaha" Death held her stomach and laughed with little regard to Peter's terrified state.
Peter could only watch in confused terror as Death, of all things, slowly finished her laughing fit, of all things Peter thought he would do in life, meeting the literal embodiment of death was not one of them.
"Sorry…hahaha… Don't worry. I'm just fucking with you, kid…hahaha… If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. I am still out there reaping souls." She made a gesture with her pointer and index finger for the open-and-closed quotation marks at the mention of reaping, laughing at an inside joke only she was privy to. "As they say."
"..."
"..."
"Really, Peter, you have nothing to worry about. I am only here to talk."
"Wait? Really?" Peter quirked a brow. He was pleasantly surprised that he could talk coherently. His emotions were manageable. Was it because this was a lucid dream?
"Yes."
"You're not here to take me to hell, are you?"
A single raised eyebrow from the ancient being was enough to know that he should stop.
"Right, sorry, shutting up now."
Peter sighed internally as he still couldn't wrap his head around the idea that the literal Grim Reaper was sitting just a little distance from him. He also couldn't understand why he was being so chill about it.
Deep breaths, Peter. A level head is what you need right now. Deep breaths, this can't possibly get any w0-NO. No, not going there. Thank God, that was too close, almost made this worse, smooth Pete, real smooth...
The absolute entity simply sat in silence. Her gaze never left Peter, not even for a moment. She allowed him to have as much time as he needed to gather his thoughts. She found his antics entertaining. Maybe she should do this more often. A certain annoyingly chatty mercenary came to mind.
"You're taking all this in quite well." She almost sounded like she was joking as she said that.
Peter's lips thinned as he gave a haunted look.
"With all due respect, Lady Death... I was a man-eating lizard last night, and I died, painfully and excruciatingly slowly, too. If Spider-Woman can beat me to death, anything's fucking possible… Honestly, right now I feel like I could accept just about anything." Peter sighed.
"So, If you don't mind me asking, what exactly do you want to know, and uhm…Well, I mean if it's not too much to ask, could you like, tell me what's going on right now, cause you know, I am human and all," Peter asked, he was also curious about her.
"Right…You're 'human and all'. For your sake, I'll be frank, I don't know either."
"You don't?" That wasn't the answer Peter was expecting.
"I'm a finality, Peter. Nothing living walks away from me. I am the finish line. I am the inevitable end. That's usually how it goes until now that is." Death had a curious expression on her face as she tilted her head slightly to rest her chin on her palm. She looked at him as if he was the most fascinating person in the world.
Peter didn't like the way she was smiling at him, though. It put him on edge and made his skin crawl just a little.
"What you did. How you did it." She continued." The way you did it. It should be impossible. Even my siblings aren't capable of something like that."
Death had siblings, who would have thought? Even with that curiosity aside, Peter felt his brow twitch. That... that didn't explain anything. He swallowed the invisible lump in his throat. A bead of sweat slid down his forehead. Peter tried to hold her gaze but found himself looking at anything but her eyes.
"What did I do exactly?"
Death paused for a moment, the edges of her lips quirked up slightly as if she found the answer to his question amusing. "You stole from me."
"I'm sorry... Maybe I didn't hear that right. You're saying that I stole from you. I, Peter Benjamin Parker. I stole something from you. Death."
"In a manner of speaking, yes." She nodded, her head leaning to the left ever so slightly into her palm. She had that unnerving look again, and the yellow in her eyes also shone a little bit brighter.
"Okay." Peter did his best to ignore her creepy vibe that Death was giving off. "I don't know if you noticed, but I like being alive. Like a lot...I think I'd know if I stole something from you..." Peter paused. He suddenly had an idea, which made sense in a way. Don't tell me…
"It's my soul, isn't it?"
"Yes, and no." Death's smile morphed into an annoyed scowl. "I have your soul, yet it isn't mine. You stole something, but at the same time, you didn't. You see, I let you steal it, I chose you even though it was against my will, and I, for one, can't seem to figure out why it all went down the way it did. "
"What... does that even mean?" Peter stated bluntly. As if this couldn't get more mind-bending, I think I'm gonna have a hell of a headache after. How do you steal something you're allowed to take? He felt the sudden urge to pull his hair out. The fact that this was still the Death he was talking to seemed to cause him to wince and grab his throbbing skull as his mind attempted to come up with a rational explanation for the utter bullshit he just heard.
"You'll figure it out eventually," Death replied to his thoughts in a tone riddled with annoyance, surprising Peter, who momentarily forgot that she could still read his mind.
"Oh, right, forgot about the whole' I can read your mind' thing. How can you not know, I mean, you are Death, aren't you supposed to be, you know, all-knowing and stuff?" Peter asked.
"I am, most of the time. There are always exceptions to the rules, but this time it seems whatever force brought you back is greater than even me. If only for a moment."
"Wait, wait, wait, what know? Now you're saying some other all-powerful force brought me back...Wait...So which one is it? No, no, no. You know what forget it. It's fine. I think I can just let it be." I. I don't think I even wanna know anymore. This, this is hurting my head. Just yesterday was a big-ass man-eating lizard. Now I'm talking to Death, what's next, aliens raining from the sky? I feel like I did something wrong. This was the most confusing day of Peter's life, and it would maybe remain that way until he died again. Well, the next time he died, seeing as he was alive right now.
"But… Just out of curiosity, will this force, I don't know, change me or like take over me or something?"
"That is for you to find out. What I want to know is why I let you take it. Why in all of creation would I allow you to take a piece of me?" Something seemed to change in her, a subtle twitch of her brow, her voice got a little lower, and for the first time since making her presence known, she looked away from Peter, confused at her answer like she was coming to terms with what she just told him.
"I'm sorry, I took what?" Peter stared at her with a ridiculous expression. Yeah, this is officially the weirdest day of my life. How do you even take a piece of Death? Why am I even asking? From her tone, Peter could guess that she meant it when she said he had to find out on his own.
Peter could already feel his headache worsen by the second.
Peter rubbed his temple. "So just to clarify. From what I can understand about all this. Something brought me back and in doing so, took my soul from your literal embrace but also in the process of bringing me back to life they left me with a piece of you that you unwillingly chose to give to but I stole it anyway and to top it all of you have my soul but it isn't yours... did I get that right?"
"Yep. That about sums it up nicely." Death rolled her eyes at his over-the-top reaction.
"I see. I have a piece of you in me. Sure, why not? Anything else I should know?" Peter rambled on, unable to comprehend it even with his intellectual prowess being greater than others in his age group. Maybe I should just stop thinking about it…
"No, but there is one thing I'm curious about," Death tilted her head intrigued with something Peter wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Peter didn't know why he felt so calm, couldn't understand this strange ease that let him rein in his panic. He couldn't know that Death herself was holding his emotions in check, keeping him rational enough to have this conversation. Some things were better discovered in time.
"Is it about my soul? Cause if it is, can I have it back?"
"Your soul is yours, Peter." Now visibly annoyed, Death glared at Peter, prompting him to look away just as quickly.
"Now let's see what you snatched from me." Death pushed herself off Peter's chair and walked towards him slowly, a strange glint in her glowing eyes.
"You can do that?" Peter asked curiously.
"Yes." As Death answered, Peter felt his body freeze up.
"H-hey, huh, death, w-what are you doing?"
Peter was on high alert, leaning back, but try as he might, his body remained still, working against him in favor of Death.
"Just testing a theory, tell me, Peter, who do see now?" she answered as her form suddenly shifted, a ripple traveled through her body as the image of his mother was covered in shadows and changed, her form became shorter, the brunette hair changed into long crimson streaks, and what was once his mother's face was now the face of his not so secret crush, and neighbor, Mary Jane Watson, her yellow eyes remained in place of her vibrant green, still possessing that odd glint as she stood just within arm's length of him.
"Do I have to answer that?" Peter asked, his voice expressing his discomfort.
"Yes."
"You... um, look like my uh, my neighbor Marry Jane, seriously what are you doing? Cause whatever it is, it's really um, you know," Peter asked, his heart skipping a beat, and who could blame him, he was still a teen in the end, still finding himself unable to move.
Keep it together Peter, this is death, this is death, oh shit…
"Your neighbor is that so?" She had a knowing smile on her face, and slowly she moved a hand up towards his face.
"Um, D-Death?"
She paid no mind to his plea, but her eyes widened slightly as she stopped her hand about a couple of inches shy of the left side of his cheek. Peter, following her hand movements with his eyes, let out a sigh of relief. He failed to notice that Death's hand wasn't stopped because she chose to follow through with her intent, but rather...
Something was holding it back.
{Ajin-Dorment (Self-Activation)}
"Huh, that's interesting, you don't see it, do you?" Death asked, perplexed, the glint in her eyes seemed to worsen, glowing a bright, brilliant yellow, looking over his right shoulder.
"W-what? See what? Hey, what's happening right now?" Peter tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, struggling to turn his head to look at what she seemed to be looking at, but from what his eyes could see, it was just her hand, inches away from his left cheek.
What Peter couldn't see was that death was glaring at something behind him.
Behind Peter, his shadow grew dark and shot up, taking form as a pale hand wrapped in bandages held death's outstretched hand in a tight grip, keeping it from reaching Peter's cheek. Another three pairs of similar arms wrapped themselves around his torso, coming out from under his arms and hugging him from behind, two on the side and one on the other, while yet another two came up, one caressing his right cheek while the other hugged his neck protectively.
Attached to the end of the six limps was a pale female figure warped in bandages from the neck down, and some covered parts of her face, while others floated around her form free from gravity. Her hair, silky and long, hid parts of her body and was as dark as the shadows that hugged her form, to the point where one could hardly tell where the shadows ended and her hair began.
Her face leaned into Peter's own, resting her chin on his shoulders, nuzzling into the nape of his neck.
Her eyes stood out to death the most, a haunting, brilliant yellow that matched Death's own eyes, glaring at her as if to tell her that now was not the time and the she—Death—should keep her hands off Peter.
"So, this is what you stole from me," Death muttered to herself, she sighed in resignation before she turned her gaze back to Peter's confused face.
Death chuckled lightly as she caught sight of him.
She leaned in slowly until she came inches away from Peter's face, enough so that if she could breathe, Peter would have felt it.
Calm down. Peter! Calm, my mind is calm. So, so calm right now, like watEERR. Sweet Marry Jan—Jesus—mother of Jesus, that's too close, way too close, she death, Pete, okay… she's hot-cot can it she can read my minds, Jesus why is it so hot in here, wait does that mean she heard, I mean, man am I hungry, is it hot here or it that just me, wait I just said that—calm parker, calm, I am still water…
Unconcerned with the teen's inner turmoil, Death's gaze drifted back to the entity now bound to Peter, or rather the entity behind him. It was a piece of her that much she knew. This one piece, this fragment, was bound to Peter's soul for the sole purpose of bringing it back to life, for now at least. Even she wasn't sure what this thing was capable of given time. It was her, yet it wasn't, not yet, Peter had to die to complete the bond, it seemed, by being near him, she forced this fragment out of its dormant state and in doing so did Death grasp some truths behind the nature of this entity, this piece of her that belonged to Peter.
This was Peter's death.
A conceptual entity, the very concept of the death of Peter Parker of Earth-65B manifested itself into a separate self-aware, and conscious conceptual entity. How peculiar, Death noted. It was her, just as she was Death, and yet it wasn't her—they were the same being, and yet so intrinsically different.
While she was the Death of all there was, is, and will be in this universe, this entity, similarly, was the Death of Peter Parker of Earth-65B.
Death turned to Peter and leaned forward just a bit. It fascinated her that this bumbling child had effectively usurped her right, unmade her sole purpose for existing; he had stolen the very idea of her and turned it against her.
Her lips quirked up, that amused knowing grin slipped back on naturally, and she attempted to move closer to the teen, but she couldn't. The entity held her back harder. Two more hands burst forth, one held her by the neck, while multiple bandages wrapped themselves around Death's body and arms, staining to hold her back.
"Uh… Lady Death? You're… You know…A…. A little too close, not-not to be disrespectful and all but there is this thing called personal space we humans abide by, so you-uh… You know." Peter's heart was beating a mile a minute, and despite constantly reminding himself that this was the LITERAL GRIM REAPER, he had little control over his physical reaction to the image of his crush suddenly so close, her glowing eyes just gave an out-of-this-world appeal.
"How peculiar indeed, I think you may be the most interesting thing I've come across in a very, very, long time." She held his gaze. "You are a thief after all, Peter Parker, and I'm slowly beginning to realize why I chose you. Your soul is MINE and MINE alone, mine to collect, mine to own, nothing in the universe can stop that now. I will come to visit you after your next passing. Until then, take care, little thief."
She was gone in a blink as if she was never there to begin with and color returned to the world. The entity that made itself known also instantly vanished with Death's disappearance.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING WITH MY LIFE?" The flustered and utterly confused teen yelled in shock and did the only rational thing one would do in his situation.
His eyes rolled back into his skull as he promptly fainted.
Chapter End