Chapter 1
The world was upside down. Or maybe it was just him.
Peter’s vision swam, the city hanging above him like a dream turned inside out. The air was cold in his lungs, each breath slow and heavy. Somewhere distant—though it felt right next to his ear—came the low, taunting laugh of the Green Goblin. Then, cutting through the night like broken glass, Gwen Stacy screamed.
The scream stopped too soon. The silence that followed was worse.
“You killed the only woman I’ve ever loved!” Peter’s voice cracked, raw from grief.
Darkness swallowed everything.
He hadn’t been the same without her. It’s all my fault, he thought. Am I even a hero? Am I living up to Uncle Ben’s words—with great power must come great responsibility? The phrase had been a guiding star once, but now it felt like a curse.
Ever since the night Gwen fell, he had hunted the Goblin like an animal. He’d had the chance to end it himself, but the villain’s own glider had done the work for him—Peter dodged, and the sharpened nose of the craft impaled Norman’s chest. It should have felt like justice. It didn’t
The city lay stretched beneath him, a glittering web of lights. Perched on the ledge of a tall building, he let the wind claw at him. Somewhere in the static of memory, Gwen’s voice rose again—soft, warm, heartbreakingly alive.
"I love you, Peter Parker. I feel safe when I’m with you. Because I know… when you’re near… I’ll always be saved by my hero."
His head lowered. The skyline blurred.
A scream cut through the night. Not Gwen’s, someone else’s.
He was moving before thought caught up. In seconds, he crouched above an alley where a mugger pressed a knife against a young woman’s cheek. Peter dropped silently on a thread of web and tapped the man on the shoulder.
“Whoa,” he said lightly. “Do you need lessons in being a spider? Because you suck at swinging.”
The mugger spun, throwing a punch. Peter caught his wrist effortlessly. “Hey! Manners. You’re in the presence of a lady.”
A quick flick of his wrists, and the man was plastered to the brick wall in a sticky cocoon. Peter offered the woman his hand, but she recoiled.
“Get away from me, freak.”
She left without a backward glance.
Peter sighed. “New Yorkers are the best,” he muttered, dripping sarcasm, before launching himself back into the city.
The pounding at his apartment door the next morning was enough to drag him from uneasy sleep.
“PARKER! You’re late on rent!”
“Oh crap!” Peter scrambled out of bed, hair sticking in every direction. “No, no, no—I forgot rent was due yesterday!” He tore through the apartment, checking his wallet, the desk, the floor—anywhere money might have magically appeared overnight.
How am I going to pay for rent? he thought. JJ fired me for not getting photos of Doctor Octavius.
The landlord’s voice softened a fraction. “Listen, Peter… you’re a nice kid. I’ll give you two days to pay your rent. That’s all I can do.”
Peter slumped. Two days.
Mask in hand, he muttered, “Am I destined to live in misery? Ever since I was bitten by that spider, it’s been nothing but sorrow.”
Later, he stood in front of a vending machine, stomach growling. His pockets were empty. “Really? You have got to be kidding me.”
He spotted a man walking past. “Hey! Sir, do you have any coins so I can get a meal?”
The man didn’t slow. “Sorry, I don’t give money to teens. You might use it for drugs or something stupid.”
Peter blinked, baffled, as the man disappeared into the crowd. Resting his forehead against the machine, he whispered, “I wish I wasn’t Spider-Man.”
He swung through the city, hunger gnawing at him. “Ugh, I wish I had money for food. But no time to complain when the streets need saving.” His stomach growled again. “Note to self: get a job to get food… hopefully Aunt May has something to spare.”
He called her mid-swing. “Hey, Aunt May… any chance you have some food? Thank you so much! I’ll pay you back soon.”
It happened out of nowhere—a stray line of web smacking across his face. He yanked it off, but his grip on the next swing slipped, and he tumbled into a park.
Dazed, he looked up to see a figure step from the shadows, wearing a different Spider-Man suit.
Peter got to his feet. “Okay, two questions: one, who are you? And two… why do you have a cooler suit than me?”
The stranger said nothing.
“So, not a talker?” Peter said. “Now I know you can’t be Spider-Man!”
“Shut up,” the man snapped.
Peter blinked. “Hey! Who taught you how to be rude?”
The stranger fired a web. Peter’s Spider-Sense flared—he dodged and fired back. Fists followed webs, a blur of motion, until Peter caught both of the stranger’s hands.
“What’s your name? Who are you?”
“I am Kaine. All you need to know is I’m the persecutor of the one who possesses spider powers.”
Peter smirked. “What is that, your dating bio? Classic.”
Kaine shot a blast of webbing into his face and disappeared into the night. When Peter tore it away, he was alone again.
Peter didn’t get a chance to dwell on Kaine. By the time he’d swung halfway home, the police scanners in his mask were already buzzing with chaos—multiple robberies, two car chases, and an armed standoff all lighting up the same sector of the city.
“Guess who’s pulling the all-nighter?” he muttered, swinging into the fray.
while Spider-Man was out stopping crime, Kaine is siting in a dark dimly lit basement.
A voice from the distance speaks. "Did you kill the spider?" Kaine replied with. "No, I just wanted to scare him first.. then strike." the voice yelled with an echo "I created you to kill Spider-Man!, not to put fear into him?!" "Sorry sir, I promise I won’t fail next time." Kaine responded as the voice says "Good, remember kill Peter Parker." Kaine kneeled and replied "Yes, Master Jackal."
As Spider-Man stopped crime after crime, The hours blurred together. He stopped a runaway truck by webbing it into a lamppost, rescued a kid from a burning building, and strung up three armed robbers outside a bodega. But every time he stopped to breathe, Kaine’s words crept back in. The persecutor of the one who possesses spider powers. What did that even mean?
By the time the sun started bleeding over the skyline, Peter was running on fumes. His body ached. His mask smelled like smoke. He wanted nothing more than to collapse face-first into bed.
He didn’t get the chance.
The pounding on his door came again.
“Parker! Time’s up!” the landlord barked.
Peter groaned, dragging himself to the door. “Look, I just need—”
“No more chances. I’m locking this place if you don’t pay today.”
Peter’s stomach twisted. He was broke, starving, and barely able to keep his eyes open. “I’ll get it,” he promised, but the door was already closing.
By noon, the hunger was so bad it felt like his insides were folding in on themselves. He found himself outside Aunt May’s place again, debating if he should ask for more food. But before he could knock, a blast rocked the street.
He turned to see smoke rising from three blocks away. His muscles screamed in protest, but his legs moved anyway.
The scene was a nightmare. Cars overturned, the pavement cracked open, and in the middle of it all—Kaine.
Peter landed a few feet away, his voice raw. “Round two already? I haven’t even had breakfast.”
Kaine didn’t answer. He just lunged.
This time Peter fought harder, angrier. Every punch he threw was fueled by exhaustion, frustration, and hunger. But Kaine was faster—stronger, even—and within minutes, Peter found himself slammed against a wall hard enough to see stars.
“You’re not broken yet.” Kaine said, his voice low and cold as he reaches and tears Peter's mask off of his face.
He vanished again, leaving Peter slumped in the rubble.
Peter staggered to Aunt May's house that night, every step heavier than the last. As he collapse on his bed in his old room, he whispers.
Uncle Ben… am I doing this right? Or am I just slowly breaking myself?
Later that day Kaine walks into the barely lit room, as Jackal says "I can see that you didn’t fulfill your promise… because you have not brought me the body of Peter Parker." Kaine replied "i haven't broken him yet, but I brought his mask."
Jackal annoyed yells out "What good is a mask to me?!" Kaine says with a cold voice "I brought it to you as a souvenir…" Jackal yells "That mask means nothing!!! All I care about is Making Peter Parker pay for his crime."
Kaine cold yet curious "May I ask.. what are Parker’s crimes?"
Jackal replied softly "He killed my love, Gwen Stacy…"
Just before silence filled the room, Jackal yells "Now bring me Spider-Man!"
