The city of trashed hopes and ominous pests
Peter fired a two webs against the wall opposite of him and slingshotted himself right into his ugly green face.
“This is your second offense Frankenstein. Three strikes and you’re out!” Peter taunted to the goblin.
Goblin swung with his right fist, driving Peter into a wall.
“Someone doesn’t know how to play nice!”
Peter shot webs into green goblins eyes, blocking a sense, though not the most important one he found out.
The goblin swung out and grabbed Peter in a tight fist.
Not good.
“Spider-Man!” Kingpin laughed from the room protected by a window. “Not so great to have you back.”
Peter groaned. Also not good.
“Aww I thought you’d miss me,” Peter quipped, keeping his sarcasm despite his breaths shortening.
Kingpin smiled at him from the room, his eyes darkening.
“Goblin! Get out of there. We need to start the test run.”
And of course the person in charge of controls was an intern and only heard ‘start the test run’. Because why should anyone be smart nowadays?
The machine whirred up, the cylinders at both ends of the room spinning. The noise was skull crushing as a spark started to form. Peter could see Kingpin yelling at someone through the glass, pressing random buttons and pulling levers.
Peter took this opportunity as a way to get free, and slipped out of the goblins grip. He fired off a web to the ceiling and opened up the panel.
At least no one could stop him now.
Peter took out the goober and was about to plug it in when he heard something fire.
He felt a hot pain blossom in his lower back as something lodged itself deep into his skin.
Peter yelled as he lost his traction to the smooth roof, falling down.
Down into the bright lights.
Into the machine.
Peter squeezed his eyes shut as neon colors danced around him. His head was filled with a deafening sound as he felt himself become somehow even more weightless.
He saw a city through his closed eyelids. His vision glitched as he felt himself slowly pass out.
He could never have a day off, could he?
Peter’s head pounded as he slowly came to consciousness.
He noticed a foul stench and realized that he was in a dumpster. He jumped out and brushed off any remaining trash.
“Couldn’t have landed on a roof maybe? Or the sidewalk?” Peter scoffed.
He aimed his wrist towards a building and hit the button to fire, when nothing came out.
He drew back his arm and examined it, checking for signs of damages.
“No clear causes. Karen? Can you scan them?” Peter asked.
Silence followed his request.
”Karen? You there?”
Still quiet.
Peter groaned again. Of course he has to be in the middle of nowhere without anyway to contact someone. He always leaves his phone at home during patrol since the past couple times it fell and Mr. Stark had to buy him a new one.
Peter walked out to the end of the alleyway when he had to grab the wall for support.
His adrenaline had worn off. Time to find a pharmacy.
He walked through the empty streets and found a 24/7 CVS. Perfect.
Peter entered and grabbed some bandages, thread and needle, Tylenol, and a pair of cheap clothes to change into. He bought them and went into the thankfully private bathroom to change and tend to his bullet wound.
After the disgusting makeshift stitches were done, Peter was about to change when he heard yelling from the store.
He opened the door a sliver to see what was going on.
A guy with a black mask on was holding the cashier at gunpoint, demanding to be given everything in the cash register.
The young girl shook, stuttering to explain that everyone pays on card now, and they had just moved the cash since it’s late.
Peter pulled on his mask and cracked his knuckles. He never really could get a break.
”Robbing a CVS? Really? At least pick a place that gets a lot of business.”
The robber startled at his appearance.
”Who are you?”
Peter dryly laughed, “Nice one.”
He walked up to the guy and quickly disarmed him, “accidentally” slamming his head onto the counter.
Peter used some zip ties and tied them around the guys wrists.
”Hey, can I borrow the store phone?” He asked.
The girl was shocked, but nodded, grabbing the corded phone and letting Peter type in whoever he needed to call. In this case, the cops.
After a quick conversation explaining the situation, the person on the phone said it would be an hour wait. That is what stumped Peter.
After hanging up, he directed his attention to the robber.
”The police are gonna take awhile, so might as well get comfy,” Peter smiled.
”Who are you?” The guy asked again.
”Did I hit your head to hard or something?” He asked, quite literally considering he might’ve given the man a concussion.
”Are you with the bats?” He asked.
Peter’s face scrunched up in even more confusion. “No, I’m Spider-Man.”
After 10 minutes of silence, Peter thought it better to just leave.
”You know, I would take you to the police station myself, but I can’t really swing right now, and I’m a little lost.” Peter told the guy.
”Speaking of lost,” he turned towards the cashier, “could I get a map?”
After a ton of walking, Peter finally made it to the main part of the city. There were some people out, thought he wasn’t quite sure that it was better than no one.
His spider-sense was at a contrast thrum ever since his woke up in that dumpster.
While looking for motels to stay in, Peter passed a newspaper on the ground. He picked it up and read the headline.
’Batman takes down major drug ring in East End’
Peter was already wondering who this Batman guy was when something more prominent overshadowed that curiosity.
’November 16, 2014’
That was exactly 3 years ago.
Could this be an old paper? Maybe. Maybe it flew out of someone’s house and landed on the street.
Peter saw a newspaper cart and ran to it.
The front cover was the same as the one on the floor.
The date was the same.
Peter racked his brain for a reasonable explanation.
The machine must’ve sent him back in time.
Though he had never heard of ‘Batman’. But it just might’ve been a local thing, and short lived.
Peter clung to his reasoning like a lifeline, and found a building with a flat roof. He climbed up the wall as quick as he could.
Wouldn’t want anyone seeing him not in his suit doing Spider-man shenanigans.
Once Peter reached the top he sat on the edge, looking out into the city.
The skyline was different, sure. But for a moment, it looked exactly like New York, minus the noise of cars honking throughout the day and night.
Peter moved off the ledge and laid down. Cushioning his head with his suit.
He laid on his side without the wound, hoping that he wouldn’t move while sleeping.
As he fell asleep he dreamed of nothing but black spots.