Chapter 3
A faint jingle of metal. A cold chill. The sterile smell of a medical facility.
Peter fights to wake himself up, trying to open his heavy eyelids. He’s disoriented but gets a general feeling of danger. He remembers the events from earlier and can’t shake the horrible feeling that he’s in serious trouble. His body is tense with anxiety and his arms prickle with goosebumps.
Finally, he’s able to pry his eyes open, bright white lights assaulting them as his vision tries to adjust. His retinas feel like they are burning and he has to squint at first. He begins to look around, taking in his surroundings, he notices he’s in a fairly empty room. He can see what seems to be a medical chair in one corner, and a table of what he guesses to be medical instruments in the other. He is on the ground so he can’t tell for sure what they are.
As he lifts his hands to rub the tired from his eyes he feels resistance. He slowly looks down and sees that his wrists and ankles have chains around them. They are thick and heavy and leave rings of cold around his limbs. They bite harshly into his arms, tightened as much as his small wrists will allow. He is in the middle of the room on the furthest wall and the chains seem to be just long enough to reach him. As he follows them back to their origin he can see that they are anchored to the wall behind him.
Peter’s situation starts to dawn on him and he starts to realize that he is in imminent danger and may need to out his identity in order to save his life. He hasn’t really had time to process the full extent of the situation but he can feel the anxiety creeping through him, like sparks igniting in his chest, spreading throughout his whole body with a low buzz that keeps him on high alert.
He can see a door on the wall to his left. It has no windows. The door begins to open and he pushes himself as far back to the wall as he can. His back is pushed so firmly against it he feels as though it will cave in around him and swallow him up. At least then he would be alone, not worrying about anyone else and hidden away in isolation until he’s rescued. But here he is, all tied up in the open, the perfect prey for any predator who wants him. His heart is racing in his chest and he can’t slow his breathing. As the door opens wider and wider, his breathing becomes more rapid and shallow to the point he fears the terror will make his heart actually stop.
The man from before walks in, the one who was giving the orders in the alley. He tried to convince Peter to go with him willingly. Peter never heard his name.
He was tall, and muscular, with a beard that wrapped around his chin but wasn’t too long. Peter nicknames him Gruff for the time being.
Peter debates if he should be the first to speak or not. It would be smarter to keep his mouth shut and let his captive make the first move, but his anxiety takes hold of him and he can’t stop the words from leaving his mouth.
“What do you want with me?” He doesn’t expect a straight answer but one would be nice.
Gruff takes him in for a second, looking Peter up and down. He gives a small smirk and walks over to him, stopping to tower over him. He bends down and looks right in his face and considers him for a moment.
“You and Tony Stark, close no?” He has a heavy Russian accent and speaks in broken english. It bothers Peter but he chooses not to make a snarky comment. Self preservation seems to be the best thing until he has more information.
“Listen man, I don't know what you’re talking about. I’m just an intern, I don’t know anything about him other than his coffee order. But something gives me the impression that you’re not looking to make a starbucks run for the guy.” Okay maybe that was too much sass but Peter’s starting to get annoyed. So much for self preservation.
“You have attitude, just like Stark.” The man laughs. “This will only make me smile more while I pry precious information from you slowly and painfully.” The man gives a wide smile. His teeth are yellow and crooked.
Peter swallows down the lump that has formed in his throat. “Dude I have no idea what you’re talking about. What information could a lowly intern have that could be any help to you?” Peter’s voice is shaking. He has nowhere to run and the chill of fear creeps down his spine. At this point he will say anything to convince this guy that he has the wrong person.
The man turns around and walks to the table, picking up various instruments and inspecting them. “Lowly intern would not have access to the secure floors of the Stark tower would they? No, I think you hide secret. Tony Stark would not personally drive just intern to and from school every day. You can drop mask Peter, I know all about you and Stark and I know you are much more than just intern.” He returns the instrument to the table and turns to look at Peter, resting his back against the edge of the table and crossing one leg over the other.
Peter shakes his head. “I don’t understand, what do you want from me? I can't give you anything. I have no money, no super technology, nothing to offer you. Why am I here?”
“We don’t want your money. You are close with Stark. He cares for you. You might even say he loves you, like a father loves his son. You see, Stark took my family from me, now I am going to do same to him.”
Peter feels a sudden rush of terror. He feels trapped. He doesn't know how he is going to get out of this one. His vision starts to blur for a second as he is harshly pulled back to being trapped under concrete after the fight with the vulture.
“Help!” He weakly called, but no one answered his plea.
He’s trapped now, as trapped as he was underneath all that rubble. But at least there, he only feared for himself, alone. He wasn’t worried about what some maniac was going to do to him.
Arguing seems pointless. This man has clearly made up his mind and Peter isn’t going to change that.
Gruff turned back around to the table looking at the instruments before deciding on a scalpel. He picks it up and turns toward Peter with a menacing look in his eyes. “Let’s get started shall we?”
Peter feels himself start to shake as Gruff walks toward him with the weapon. He is suddenly interrupted by the door bursting open and a tall but slim man barges in. “Boss, we found something in the kid’s backpack, You’re going to want to see this.”
Gruff looks at Peter, “looks like you’re going to have to wait.” He smiles as he sets down the scalpel and follows the other man out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. Peter breathes a sigh of relief. The interruption gives him a little more time to piece together a plan of attack.