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Spider-Man Mayham (AU) Chapter 308: Sons Of Satannish (1)
🕑 Added 2025-05-26 22:47:25 +0000 UTC[Third Person's PoV]
As Peter watched MJ walk away, a buzzing sensation tickled his leg—his phone vibrating in his pocket. Curious, he fished it out and glanced at the screen. Dick Grayson, the caller ID read.
Peter furrowed his brows in confusion. It wasn’t like Harry to call him out of the blue, especially not during working hours. He accepted the call, leaning casually against his office doorframe.
“Yurrr?” Peter answered in a relaxed tone.
“Are you alone?” Harry’s voice came through, sounding oddly serious, a slight undertone of tension laced in his words.
Peter’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He stepped back into his office and quietly shut the door behind him with a soft click.
“Are you reciting a porn ad or something?” Peter asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.
“You seriously watch porn when you have your own harem?” Harry retorted, a faint chuckle escaping him.
“Obviously not. Feel free to check my search history,” Peter replied, rolling his eyes and flopping into his desk chair.
“Please. Like it would even be there. You probably have Aria delete it for you,” Harry scoffed. “Honestly, knowing you, you’d just keep a stack of vintage porn mags hidden somewhere, just for the laughs.”
Peter groaned, rubbing his forehead. “First of all, I would never make my daughter delete my search history. Don’t be gross. And second—why are you calling me?”
“Okay, okay. Get this. I got a mission from the Ancient One,” Harry finally said, getting to the point. “I was wondering if you wanted to tag along. Sounds fun?”
Peter blinked, caught off guard. “You serious? Why would she give you a mission?”
“Because I’m awesome, duh,” Harry replied, grinning on the other end. “Well, more realistically, I’ve already been handling a few small jobs connected to what she wants. She said this one was a bit riskier, and she felt more comfortable handing it off to ‘enhanced individuals.’ You know—superhuman types like us.”
Peter sat up straighter, more focused now. “Wait, this wouldn’t happen to be related to the recent spike in missing person cases, would it?”
“Exactly. You’ve seen the reports, right? It’s been all over the app. More people started to vanish. Guess who's been following up on most of them?”
“You,” Peter said, frowning. “I saw your name listed as the responder on a bunch of those. What’s the connection?”
“There’s a cult involved,” Harry said grimly. “Calls themselves the ‘Sons of Satannish.’”
Peter’s expression darkened. “Human sacrifices.”
“Yup. Ritualistic, by the looks of it,” Harry confirmed, his voice heavier now. “And it's getting worse.”
Peter let out a breath, nodding. “Alright. I’m in. Quick question, though—why me? Why not bring along your girlfriend?”
There was a brief pause before Harry answered with a laugh, “Come on, man. We’re the universe’s Dynamic Duo. Or, y’know, World’s Finest—whichever title feels cooler.”
Peter laughed despite himself. “You son of a bitch. You seriously know how to get me fired up. Alright, give me a few minutes—I’ll suit up and meet you.”
Harry chuckled on the other end before the call disconnected. Peter’s smile faded into a more focused look. He stood up and exited his office with purpose.
---
Later that evening…
High above the city skyline, Nightwing stood atop a cathedral, his green-clad figure silhouetted against the sun. His back rested against the base of a stone cross, arms crossed, eyes closed, his brown hair tousled gently by the cool day breeze.
A sudden smirk played on his lips as he felt two hands cover his eyes from behind.
“Guess who~?” came a teasing, sing-song voice from the shadows.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Gee, I dunno. Maybe the guy I just called five minutes ago?”
“Aw, c’mon. Thought I could at least make you guess for a second,” Peter grinned, stepping out from behind the cross. He was clad in his dark, hooded Spider-Man suit, the faint blue glow of his chest emblem and oversized lenses.
Peter looked around the rooftop and then gave Harry a side-eye. “Why are we starting on a cathedral? Seems unnecessarily dramatic.”
Harry shrugged. “We’re going after a group called the Sons of Satannish. Figured a church was good luck—or irony.”
Peter gave a small nod of agreement. “Fair enough.”
Harry clapped Peter lightly on the chest. “Let’s roll.”
With a burst of movement, Harry ran to the edge of the roof and leapt off. As he flipped mid-air, he brought his feet together. A sleek, green hoverboard shaped like his personal insignia materialized under him, carrying him gracefully into the night.
Peter stood at the edge, watching him disappear into the wind. “Who does this guy think he is, ordering me around?” he muttered with a half-smile before leaping after him.
He fired a webline and hooked onto the back of Harry’s hoverboard, swinging through the air like a surfer behind a speeding boat.
“Weeeee!!” Peter shouted, laughing like a kid at an amusement park, narrowly missing a skyscraper by inches.
Harry smirked, leaning forward to pick up speed. Peter flailed slightly as the wind roared around him.
Without warning, a glowing portal shimmered into existence ahead of them. Harry passed through effortlessly, and Peter zipped in right after. The portal snapped shut behind them.
They emerged high above the Bronx skyline, and Harry made a sudden, sharp descent. People below scattered, startled by the sudden streak of light overhead.
The pair angled toward a set of subway tracks. As they neared the ground, Harry’s hoverboard compacted neatly beneath his feet.
Peter’s eyes widened. “Whoa!”
His web snapped free, but both he and Harry landed on the rails in a perfect slide. Sparks erupted beneath their boots as they grinded down the tracks at breakneck speed.
Eventually, the two heroes came to a clean stop at the darkened entrance of a subway tunnel.
As they stood at the entrance of the underground tunnel, Peter blinked and crossed his arms. “An abandoned underground tunnel… Wow. How original of them.”
Harry shook his head. “First of all, it’s not abandoned. It’s actually still active. They’re probably using the constant rumble of the trains to mask their movements—pretty clever, actually.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “Okay, fine, that makes sense. But still, you’d think they’d have picked something a little less cliché. Like, I don’t know… a creepy old mansion on a hill or something. I've always wanted a dramatic showdown in a mansion. You know, chandeliers crashing down while we dodge cultists and monologue dramatically.”
Harry chuckled as they started walking down the tunnel. “Just how disconnected from reality are you? You think the kind of people who worship a demon with ‘Satan’ literally in his name can afford real estate like that? These guys probably can’t even pay rent.”
Peter scoffed, “I’m just saying, if I’m down bad enough to sell my soul to a demon, I better be getting a return on investment—like a mansion, a hot tub, and maybe a butler named Alfred.”
Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Honestly? Can’t argue with that logic. But hey, silver lining—we’ve never actually fought in a subway tunnel before. We live in one, sure, but never actually brawled underground.”
As Harry spoke, he dropped into a crouch, his lenses flashing faintly green as his HUD scanned the ground. Faint shoe prints were barely visible, but with the overlay guiding him, he followed them along the dusty concrete.
Peter followed suit, nodding. “Now that you mention it… Ghost-Spider came close when she fought the Lizard in the sewers, but we? We’ve never had a good old-fashioned under-city throwdown.”
The faint prints stopped at a seemingly solid wall. Harry reached out, patting the surface to find a hidden mechanism. Peter, watching him struggle, simply looked directly to his side and raised a hand forwards. A glowing magic circle spun to life, the emblem of the spider etched in its center.
The illusion concealing the door flickered and vanished, revealing a heavy iron doorway embedded in the tunnel wall.
Harry cleared his throat and muttered, “I totally knew that. I was just testing you to make sure you were paying attention.”
Peter shot him a deadpan look. “Yeah. And I’m Santa Claus.”
With a roll of his eyes, Harry pulled the door open. It groaned with age and revealed a downward stairwell lit only by flickering torchlight. The air was cooler here, damp and heavy.
They exchanged a side glance before descending, each step echoing ominously through the narrow stone corridor.
Peter’s brow furrowed as they got lower. “What’s with the torches? It’s the 21st century.”
“Has to be for aesthetic,” Harry whispered back, voice tense but amused.
Then Peter stopped, his expression shifting. “Wait… you feel that?”
Harry paused. “Feel what?”
“Exactly,” Peter said, voice now low and sharp. “There’s nothing. No sound. No presence. It’s too quiet.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into a wide subterranean chamber.
It was eerily still—but far from empty.
The space was dimly lit by hundreds of candles arranged in tight circles, their flames flickering as if disturbed by unseen movement. At the center stood a large stone altar—grey, weathered, and cold. A deep red pentagram had been carved into its surface with unnatural precision. Thick rivulets of it slowly trickled down the stone, forming misshapen trails. On the far wall, another pentagram had been drawn—this one in what could only be blood.
Both Peter and Harry’s faces hardened as they stepped closer.
Peter touched the surface of the altar, dipping his fingers into the thick red fluid. He rubbed it between his fingertips before muttering darkly, “It’s still warm.”
Harry clenched his jaw, his voice tight with fury. “We were too late…”
He looked toward the wall, where the blood continued to slide downward in thin lines.
“…someone’s already been sacrificed.”
Comments
Green223
Remember Santa is real in Marvel and possibly a Mutant
Nazarickk
Thanks for the chapter
