Realm of Nightmares

The air of the city held a deafening silence. No footsteps, no chatting, no engines sputtering. The usual business and vibrance of the city was all but forgotten. 

Not a sound pierced the terrifying silence, except for the cold, night wind brushing against the New York sidewalks.

Everything was still and peaceful. Yet horrifying.

Officer Nelson finally opened his eyes, believing he’d suffered a great head injury since his hearing seemed to be failing him. His outstretched arms ached, and he realized he was on his back on the concrete. The gold of his badge glared in his eyes, reflecting off the streetlights. He blinked a few times and suddenly, everything was clearer.

He was in an alley, still unsure of exactly what had happened or why he was suddenly deaf. One moment he was walking home with his work friends, chatting about the day he'd had when everything went black. A loud silence had pierced the air, and he remembered feeling more tired than he ever had in his life. 

Officer Nelson stretched his head around and propped himself up on his elbows. His work friends, Officer Roberts, Stanley, Gilbert, and Collins were spread out around him, all sprawled out on the cement like he was, blinking and squinting and shuffling around to get their bearings. Some were shivering, which made him realize that he was too. Shivering at the eerie cold in the New York atmosphere.

Officer Nelson got to his feet and began helping his friends up, confusion and panic nearly consuming him. 

"What the hell?" Officer Brenda Roberts said, wiping away the thick, blonde hair plastered to her face. 

Everyone just sighed, looking around like they'd never experienced outside before. But Nelson wouldn’t judge them for that. After all, they hadn’t experienced this eerie, ominous version of New York before.

It didn't give Officer Nelson any comfort to know his friends were just as confused as he. 

"Got me askin' the same thing, Brenda," said Officer Collins. 

Nelson's mind raced with questions he hadn't an answer to. "What do you guys remember?"

"We were...just walking home. Talking about that drug cartel we busted," said Brenda. "And then I...I..."

"Fell asleep?" answered Nelson. 

She considered his response. "Yeah."

Officer Stanley peered around the edge of a garbage can and began walking out of the alley. The others followed, cringing at the sound of their footsteps, which seemed louder than an air horn in the silent alley. The moon helped the street lamps in lighting up the road, and the officers gasped at the sight of their city.

Everyone was asleep. No cars drove smoothly down the road. No pedestrians walked up and down the sidewalks. Every New Yorker, as far as the officers could see, was unconscious.

A lady and her dog were slumped over the side of a bench. A man's coffee spilled down his legs as he leaned against a store window, snoring softly.

A red van had crashed into a storefront, the driver leaned against his steering wheel. It seemed as though, in one swift movement, someone had turned the city off. 

"What the hell?" Officer Brenda repeated.

Nelson felt like drawing his gun, a move that gave him a sense of safety. But he didn't know what to protect himself from. An evil stench hung in the air, and Officer Nelson felt oddly out of place, like he should be asleep along with everyone else. His consciousness disrupted the rhythm of silence and peace.

Certainly there had to be a reasonable explanation for this. 

Nelson thought hard, trying to clear the rest of the haziness from his mind. He looked around, attempting to make out any moving figures besides him and his friends, but to no avail.

Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, something moved beyond the streetlamps and billboards. It was the silhouette of a body, perching on the edge of an apartment complex. The figure was hard to see against the night sky, but nonetheless, Officer Nelson had a clear view as the shape moved closer and closer to him and his friends, hopping along the window ledges and neon signs. 

The officers backed up slightly, but knew at once what was coming to save them.

The figure landed softly on the sidewalk in front of them, picking himself up to a standing position and eyeing Nelson oddly. He fixed the hem of his red and blue suit, ensuring that his face was fully covered by his mask and blinking his wide white eye lenses at the group of five.

"Spider-Man," breathed Officer Nelson, exchanging glances with his friends.

"No way!" exclaimed Officer Stanley.

The hero looked around aimlessly, breathing heavily. "How are– How are you guys..."

"Awake?" finished Brenda.

He breathed deeply. "Yeah."

"What happened here?" said Officer Collins, avoiding the question.

"Uhm...that's a long story," Spider-Man answered shakily. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, cradling his elbow, almost in pain. "But you guys are the only ones left."

"Only ones left? What does that mean?" Nelson asked.

"It means the whole city is asleep." He paused, waiting for the officers to make the connection. 

"Except for us." It came out almost as a whisper, but the group heard him perfectly. Whispers might as well be shouts in a city so silent. 

"You're tellin' me," started Officer Collins, raising one finger and pointing it at Spider-Man, "that we're the only ones awake in the whole city?"

The vigilante sighed and kept his voice low, almost in shame. "Yep. All of Queens." He webbed an empty coffee cup back into a dumpster.

Officer Nelson had run into the hero once, who had aided him in stopping a robbery, but it was odd seeing him so up close. He was a bright person, always making lame jokes and quips that only he found funny. It was kind of annoying, but added charm at the same time. That's pretty much all he and his friends knew about him. But there were a few other things Nelson had heard about him, like how he could bench press a train and stick to walls. All just rumors spread about at the police station. Though Nelson wouldn’t hesitate to believe them based on Spider-Man’s muscular build. Another thing he assumed was that Spider-man had never dealt with something this big before. It was obvious in how he tensed his shoulders and kept fidgeting with his hands. Though the vigilante also looked injured in more ways than one. He slightly curled into himself, subconsciously protecting his ribcage. There were also tiny cuts on the back of his suit, each one leaking blood. 

"How come you're awake? How are we awake?" asked Officer Roberts. "Why is this happening? A-And why–"

Spider-Man cut her off, obviously already panicking with or without her questions—which sounded a bit more like accusations. "I-I don't know, okay? Not exactly." He turned and surveyed the sleeping city, almost frantically. 

Nelson, being a cop, knew what sheer panic looked like, and he was certain that the vigilante was going through it, with the way his hands trembled slightly and his voice wavered. The officer felt terrible for the heroine, who was targeted every day despite only doing good for the city. Nelson felt as if he was the only cop who truly appreciated the vigilante's efforts. Even though his actions were technically illegal—interfering with police chases and what not—Spidey had a good heart. It was clear through his actions. And Nelson had never really cared about the law anyway. All he’d wanted in becoming an officer was to help people, and that’s exactly what Spider-Man did. In his eyes, Spidey was a true blessing to New York. But all he got in return was hate. 

"Just...just let me think for a second." Spider-Man said. "I- I'll tell you what I know, just...sit down or something?"

The officers found various spots in the alley to rest on, and listened intently.

"So...it was a dark and stormy night-"

"Spidey!"

"Sorry, sorry. It's a bit of a problem." He cleared his throat. "I was on patrol..."