Shadow_D_Monarch3
patreon
Spider-Man Mayham (AU) Chapter 312: Vulture From Hell (1)
🕑 Added 2025-06-03 15:10:33 +0000 UTC[Third Person's PoV]
“Dude… I think I just shit myself…” Harry muttered, eyes wide with surprise as he stared at the demonic vulture. The creature had turned its grotesque head toward them, baring a crooked, unsettling smile that seemed stitched together from nightmares.
“Sorry, that might have just been me,” Peter replied with an awkward laugh, trying to mask the eerie chill crawling up his spine. But even he couldn’t deny it—this thing radiated a supernatural malice that made the air feel colder.
Without warning, the vulture tilted its head back and unleashed a shriek—“REEEEEE!!!”—so sharp and unnatural that it sent tremors through the air. The sound vibrated at a frequency that seemed to bypass their ears and drill straight into their skulls, forcing both boys to wince in pain.
Then, the vulture's monstrous wings beat the air with a sudden gust, lifting it into the bright sky.
“Oh no you don’t!” Spider-Man shouted, instantly leaping into action. He shot a pair of web lines at the vulture’s legs, trying to anchor it down before it could escape.
Harry was about to follow when something flickered in his peripheral vision—movement on the edge of the battlefield. His instincts kicked in, snapping his head around just in time to see the Head Priest from earlier.
The cultist, who had been blown away during the vulture’s grotesque transformation, now lay sprawled across the grass. He was crawling toward something: a ceremonial scepter, tipped with a glowing red crystal orb.
That crystal orb wasn’t just for show—it was a reservoir of pure magical energy, imbued with the collective power of every cult member present. It was intended to be the conduit for a ritual of unthinkable consequences: the summoning of Satannish, one of the most terrifying entities from the deepest circles of Hell.
Apparently, that ritual could wait as they needed to get rid of the pest that stopped them.
The Head Priest grinned maniacally as he seized the scepter and held it high, his voice booming with crazed fervor. “BY THE SUPREME MIGHT OF SATANNISH!”
“Damn it!” Harry cursed, summoning his own energy. A glowing portal opened beside him, and he leapt through it in a desperate attempt to stop the ritual.
But he was too late.
The scepter slammed into the ground. The red orb pulsed like a dying star and exploded with a surge of magical power. A wave of energy tore through the field, catching Harry mid-air and tossing him backward into the portal he'd just created.
He twisted in midair, performing a handspring as he landed and skidded across the dirt, sparks trailing behind him. A circle of crimson fire ignited on the ground, forming a hellish pentagram. Then, from its core, a geyser of hellflame erupted, rocketing into the sky with a deafening roar.
When the flames finally parted, something stood in their place—a tall, grey-skinned demon with black, curling horns and a body carved from nightmares. The smoldering embers of the summoning circle still glowed at its feet, etching an ominous sigil into the ground. The demon’s mouth curled into a massive, inhuman grin that seemed too wide for its face, exposing rows of glinting, razor-like teeth. Its crescent-shaped eyes gleamed with infernal malice.
“Sorry, Spidey…” Harry said grimly, eyes locked on the towering entity before him. “Looks like I’ve got my own demons to deal with. You’re on your own for now.”
His hand opened, and his staff, which had been lying forgotten on the battlefield, sprang to life. It rose into the air, spun like a baton, and shot toward him. Harry caught it mid-spin, twirling it around his body with practiced grace before settling it under one arm.
He pointed the staff at the demon, his stance steady, his expression calm.
“They call this the Devil’s Tango, right?” Harry smirked, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion. “So come on, little demon. Let’s dance.”
---
Meanwhile, above the rooftops…
Spider-Man soared through the air, gripping his webline with both hands as he swung at high speed, the night wind roaring in his ears. They were out of the cemetery now, and the city lights blurred below him as he clung to the fleeing vulture.
“Whoa, Big Bird!” Peter called out, twisting mid-swing. “Sesame Street’s not for another mile, what's the rush!”
The vulture snarled in response and glanced down—only to realize the webline that had been clinging to him was empty. Instead, a glowing portal had formed beneath him, showing an image of himself from above. His eyes widened in confusion.
And when he looked up that’s when Peter struck.
He plummeted from above with a thunderous dropkick that smashed into the vulture’s face, driving the side of his head into what appeared to be a mirror-like surface suspended in the air. The glassy surface shattered upon impact, fragments flying outward in every direction as the vulture tumbled through it.
Peter shot two webs to the outer side of the fragmented entrance. He yanked his body inside, just before the shards began swirling backward in reverse motion. The fragments reassembled with eerie precision, resealing the entrance to the Mirror Dimension behind him.
“Let’s keep the casualties between you and me, yeah?” he said, flicking his fingers into the classic web-slinger pose.
Twin webs fired from his wrists, aimed directly at the vulture.
But the creature wasn’t done yet.
It shook its head with a guttural growl, then opened its twisted beak. A torrent of hellfire surged forth, incinerating the webbing mid-flight. The blast roared toward Peter with unrelenting heat.
Reacting instantly, Peter activated the Van der Waals force by his suit’s soles, launching himself upwards in midair with explosive agility
The Vulture flapped his massive, blade-like wings once—and in a thunderous boom, he streaked through the air at the speed of sound. His wings, honed like scythes, carved through the atmosphere with lethal precision, aiming to slice Peter clean in half.
But Peter’s perception slowed—his spider-sense sharpening the world into crawling motion. The wing came for him like a guillotine, but Peter’s instincts surged. He thrust both palms downward onto the oncoming wings and pushed off, flipping into a handstand on the vulture’s wings and launching himself over the creature in one seamless, acrobatic motion.
Midair, Peter twisted his torso and fired a webline toward the Vulture’s back. It latched on, and he reeled himself in. His right hand glowed with blue energy—chi pulsed through his veins, and electricity danced along his knuckles.
With a roar, Spider-Man smashed his chi-charged fist into the Vulture’s back. A surge of electrical chi exploded on contact, arcing like a storm across the creature’s body. The Vulture shrieked in agony, his body twitching violently.
But he didn’t fall.
To Peter’s shock, the Vulture clenched his beak with monstrous fury, spinning in midair.
Peter leapt backward, trying to disengage—but he wasn’t fast enough.
The Vulture’s wings flared outward—then ignited in hellfire. The air warped with heat as the burning wings slashed forward. Peter tried to twist his torso, sucking in his stomach to avoid the blow. Sparks screeched across his enchanted suit, the screeching sound of resistance echoing across the sky like it was in great pain. But it didn’t hold.
The hellfire, fire that originated from hell itself, said to be known as the hottest flames, burned through the mystical enchantments, melted the vibranium weave, and knicked Peter hard across his side.
White light exploded across Peter’s vision.
Agony tore through him—not just in his flesh, but in his very soul. It felt as though something ancient and foul had sunk hooks into his spirit and yanked.
“AARGHHH!” Peter howled. The pain was raw, unbearable—worse than anything he’d ever endured. His body trembled as the Vulture grinned, pure insanity gleaming in his eyes.
The demonic bird extended a gnarled talon, grabbed Peter by the torso, and dove. The world became a blur as they streaked downward like a missile. The talon squeezed—right over the exposed, burned section of Peter’s side.
“NNGHH—ARGHHHHHH!!!” he roared again, the sensation like molten needles jabbing straight into his nerves.
Then—impact.
Peter’s body was hurled into the side of a multi-story building. His enhanced suit absorbed what it could, the kinetic energy glowing across his chest like veins. But even so, he crashed into the rubble with an explosive boom, embedded deep in the fractured structure.
The Vulture wasn’t done.
He picked Peter up by his body and slammed him down again. The rubble shattered beneath them, forming a deep crater. As he raised Peter again for another strike, the kinetic charge in the weblines discharged—releasing a shockwave that blasted the Vulture backward into the sky.
Peter lay in the wreckage, gasping and writhing, hands pressed against his side. His fingers sparked faintly with chi as he tried to focus—forcing his energy into the tear in his suit, using his own power to mend the fibers and seal the wound.
The skin knit together. The suit resealed.
But the pain didn’t stop, in fact the pain didn't even diminish in the slightest.
He groaned, dragging himself to his knees. His vision blurred. His breath came in ragged gasps.
“I… I’m healed… but why does it still hurt so much…?” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes. His whole body trembled. Every nerve screamed.
Then—danger.
His spider-sense flared violently.
A streak of red flashed through the air.
Peter’s spider emblem split in half across his chest—cleaved in two. His eyes widened, then narrowed with pain as a fresh scream tore from his lungs. White-hot agony flooded his body again.
The Vulture had returned.
Using hellfire to bend physics, the demonic creature zipped through the air at impossible angles, slashing with wings wreathed in flame.
Another cut—across Peter’s ribs.
Another—his hip.
Another—his shoulder.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Peter was In too much agony to react. Each red streak brought with it blinding flashes of agony and the metallic scent of blood. His body twisted and recoiled from every strike, staggering backward, crumpling in on itself as the Vulture carved him apart piece by piece. Not just flesh—soul. Each blow felt like a sliver of his essence was being peeled away.
The crater turned crimson. Pools of Peter’s blood soaked into the dirt, staining the debris and shattered rock.
His eyes—glazed, empty—flashed once more with raw instinct.
“AHHHHHH!!!” he roared, tears flying from his cheeks as he lashed out, swinging blindly.
His eyes lost their pupils.
Only white remained.
And when the Vulture dove again—laughing, shrieking, ready to finish him—
Peter’s fist met his face with the force of a meteor.
CRACK!
The Vulture’s beak shattered. His neck twisted at a grotesque angle as a thunderous shockwave exploded outward from the impact. Buildings shuddered. Rubble was blasted from the crater like cannon fire. The Vulture’s body spun like a bullet, ricocheting off one building—then another—then a third. Each impact tore chunks from the concrete and glass, creating a domino of destruction across the city block.
Peter dropped to his knees, hands pressed to his ribs, sobbing uncontrollably. His breath hitched as he screamed in helpless agony.
“ARGHHH!!! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! IT HURTS!!” he shouted like a broken record, his voice cracking, tears cascading down his face as the pain was inhumane.
Comments
Nazarickk
Thanks for the chapter
Bryan Vargas
It is Hellfire gifted to him by practically Satan himself and being op does mostly nothing in the world of Marvel there are too of OP characters and they still get trashed
Ugly
It’s a little annoying that you make the main cast op yet still make their villains absolutely skull fuck them
