Fredozy
patreon
Chapter 122: The bug
🕑 Added 2025-09-24 07:14:25 +0000 UTCOne Week Later – New York City, Night
Spider-Man swung across rooftops, the crisp air rushing past him due to the speed he was moving. His in built comm buzzed softly with background NYPD chatter, but his night had been quiet so far. 'Too quiet infact.'
And of course he just had to tempt fate as the next thing he heard was a blood curling scream. Peter halted mid-swing, perching on the side of a billboard. "Uh… what the hell was that?" His voice echoed in the mask. He angled toward the sound, shooting a web and launching into the air.
He landed softly in an alley, crouched low as he did. The place was deserted.
"Huh," he muttered, standing upright. One hand rested on his hip, the other scratching the back of his neck. "Great. My spider-sense gives me goosebumps, I chase a horror movie scream, and what do I find? Nada. This city really needs a handbook."
He started to turn, then froze suddenly. Around the corner, something caught the glow of a flickering streetlamp. He bent down, fingers brushing against a black, tar-like residue smeared across the pavement.
"Again with the weird gunk," Peter muttered. His brow furrowed beneath the mask. "This'll be the third time this week I'm seeing this stuff. What in the hell is going on, it's always the same story with somebody screaming, and suddenly they go missing and all that's left is… this black sludge. Either this is the grossest kidnapping spree ever, or something way weirder."
He looked around for a bit I see what else he could find and his eyes caught a leather wallet lying nearby. He picked it up, flipping it open. A middle-aged man's driver's license stared back. Harold Klein.
Peter winced. "Sorry, Harold. Looks like you didn't just misplace your wallet." He tapped on his home made comm. "Hey, Yuri. You there?" Her voice crackled through. "I'm here. What've you got for me, Spider-Man?"
"Another one," Peter said, glancing at the black smear. "Screams, empty alley, and residue. Picked up a wallet too Harold Klein, mid-50s. Ring a bell?"
Yuri sighed. "Yeah. He's on our missing persons list, It was reported today by his daughter he went missing this morning. You're right, this is the third this week. Always the same M.O.—gone without a trace, except for that black residue. No witnesses, no leads."
"Sounds like my kind of fun," Peter said grimly. "Listen, keep me updated on any more cases. I'll keep poking around. Something tells me this isn't just your run-of-the-mill kidnapping."
"Be careful, Spider-Man. People don't just vanish like this."
"Story of my life," Peter quipped, cutting the line. He straightened, webbing the wallet to a lamppost for evidence pick-up. Then, he heard a sound to his far left. Like claws dragging over brick. Peter swung instantly, rounding the corner. He caught movements and saw a figure darting through shadows, cloaked in a dark mantle.
"Not creepy at all," Peter muttered, firing webs. The figure leapt, twisting unnaturally, evading every strand he fired at it. Then with a sickening rip, translucent insectoid wings burst from its back.
"Oh, that's… nope. Big nope. Really not a fan of bugs." The chase was on. The creature zipped through the air, Peter hot on its trail, swinging fast between buildings.
"Come on, buddy, stop for a chat!" Peter yelled. "We'll grab coffee, talk about why you're kidnapping people, maybe swap skincare tips 'cause I gotta say, covering yourself up like that sheesh? Not a good look!"
The figure clacked, a chittering sound that echoed like insect mandibles. Peter adjusted, analyzing its pattern. It banked left every third rooftop. Perfect. He swung ahead, laying down a web net between two fire escapes.
The creature zipped around the corner and immediately slammed straight into the trap.
"Gotcha!" Peter landed in front of it, crouched like a cat. "You know, you'd be a real pain at a butterfly exhibit."
The creature screeched, thrashing violently. It spat a stream of that same black residue, sizzling against a street sign that collapsed in sparks. Peter flipped backward, landing on a lamppost.
"Note to self: don't let alien goo touch the suit. I just washed this thing." Peter glanced closer. The thrashing revealed cuts along its torso, green blood oozed thickly. "You're bleeding. So… what are you? Alien? Mutant? Discount Mothra?"
Before he could ask more, the air around the entity distorted. A faint slicing sound, then
WHOOM.
A green shimmer snapped into existence around the creature, crushing its body in a warped implosion. It shrieked once before collapsing inward, swallowed into nothing.
Silence. Only the smell of ozone and residue lingered.
Spider-Man froze, eyes wide behind his mask. "...What. The. Hell. Just happened?"
He stared at the empty space, the destroyed signpost still sizzling with residue. His stomach twisted. "Okay. Missing people. Creepy bug guy. And now… green glowing self-destruct? Yeah, I officially hate this week."
