Home Alone
By the time Peter had biked home it was well and truly dark. Before moving out to country Aunt May would never have let him wander around outside after sunset back in New York, it was too dangerous, she said, a perk of knowing everybody in town, he guessed. So yeah, out here in the boondocks he was fairly safe and all sane bears would be hibernating, but then it was the crazy ones you had to watch out for. He glanced out at the woods. Trees branching out for miles, the ginormous redwoods stood guard. Giant sentries that surrounded the town. He wasn't afraid of the woods. He had learned long ago not to be afraid of the dark, it was quite literally the absence of light, nothing physically changed when the lights went out. Besides, without the light pollution from the city, thousands of stars adorned the night sky, millions of tiny night lights to guide the way.
Stars had always fascinated him, the only proven ghosts. (As a man of science he really shouldn't believe in the afterlife, but as one who had lost so many he had hope that maybe, one day, he'd see them again). He would never get lost if he could see the stars, it was the first thing he had studied when they had moved out to the country. The city had too much light pollution to see more than a few stars and that was if you were lucky.
Turning his back on the woods he slipped into the house. He winced when he realised he had forgotten to lock the door in his rush to show his invention to his aunt. Silently berating himself he quickly checked their few valuables, flicking on lights as he went. Relaxing only when he was certain that he had been the last person in the house. To most, this would have been a relief, to Peter, it was yet another reminder of how things had changed. In the city, you were almost guaranteed a breaking if any windows or doors were left unsecured, especially in the area they had lived in before.
He dumped the box of parts that had once been SPYDER next to the front door, locking it out of habit rather than necessity. The house was an old country farmhouse, it had old peeling wallpaper, threadbare carpets and old fashioned tiles. For a house that was nearly a hundred years old, it was in fair shape, although he wasn't altogether convinced that someone hadn't been murdered in the barn out front. The ancient phone in the kitchen began to ring, was a massive improvement from the screeching it gave off when they first moved in. The phone was so old. It still had a rotary dial for crying out loud! He had tinkered with it the best he could with the ancient tech, fixed it up so you could at least make out what the person on the other end of the line was saying.
He already knew who was calling before he picked it up. Cell reception was shite out here and had been, if possible, worse this past week. Whenever May had to work late she would call and let him know.
"Hello? This is Peter Parker speaking," He answered politely. He knew there was no need but still, there was that minuscule chance it wasn't his aunt on the line.
"Peter?" she asked as if someone else would have picked up. "Honey, I'm really sorry-" there was a jostling on her end, he waited patiently for her to continue even though he already knew what she was going to say.
"I need to work late tonight, honey. There's leftover thai in the fridge. You can have that and some veges…"
Peter grimaced. Thai used to be something they did every week. It used to be his favourite. However, this tiny, closed-minded, bigoted town didn't exactly have a Thai takeout. Aunt May's solution was to find online recipes to well, mutilate. Lets Uncle Ben hadn't married her for her cooking, let's leave it at that.
"Way ahead of you Aunt May," He slid open his drawer of junk food, most of it sweets. At least he wouldn't be going hungry.
"I'll make it up to you, ok?"
"Ok."
May sighs, "I larb you honey."
"I larb you too."
"And Peter? No movies, no late-night snacks and bed by 9 o'clock. Got it?"
"C'mon, May. It's me remember?"
Glancing at the clock Peter made his plans. May wouldn't be home till nearly midnight. The clock read half-past six. More than enough time to start a Star Wars marathon.
10.43 pm
"You have been defeated. Do not let yourself become destroyed as Obi-Wan did."
Peter rose to the edge of his seat, preparing for one of the biggest plot twists known to modern man. He stuffs an overfilled twinkie in his mouth.
"There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you."
Luke backed out, off of the platform, desperate to get away from the Sith Lord. Clutching his severed wrist he was defenceless without his lightsaber. With his good hand, he clung on for dear life.
Vader advances.
"Luke, you do not yet realise your importance. You have only begun to discover your power. Join me, and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy…"
"I'll never join you!"
"If only you knew the power of the dark side… Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father…"
"He told me enough. He told me youkilled him!" Luke deftly scaled the terminal, dropping down putting more space between him and the Sith Lord. Searching desperately for a way out.
There was a crash on the roof, the sounds of groaning metal reverberated through the night. Peter dismissed it, too absorbed in one of his favourite films. Probably a possum. There were so many out there.
"Luke… I am your-"
The power went out and Darth Vader never completed the unforgettable sentence. Peter falls off the couch in horror. Why now? Why did it have to stop there?
"No! No. No. No." He chanted. Grabbing his torch he stumbled down to the basement to check the fuses. Weird, they were all fine. Something else must have caused the power cut. Running up the stairs he threw his head out the second-story window in the guest room. He leant out to check the power box that was located two feet to his right or used to be located two feet to the right, the power box was gone! All that was left was a tangle of torn wires and a mess of exposed circuits. It looked as if it had been torn off! His narrow torch beam traced the ground below searching for the box. A trail of debris littered the garden where the picket fence had been knocked down, bits of splintered wood now littering the yard. The trail continued onwards leading straight into the dark wood where branches lay snapped and twisted, all contorted out of shape. Trees were leaning at unnatural angles, their roots ripped from the ground.
What on earth could have done this?
No. Not from earth. "Invaders from Mars…" he whispered to the night air. It wouldn't have been the first time earth had been visited by creatures of the extraterrestrial variety.
Peter gathered supplies. Helmet, check. Boots, check. Coat, check. Torch, check. He turns to leave, his BB gun catching his eye from beneath his bed. He knew logically, that it wouldn't do much against whatever had taken their power box but he grabbed anyway. Weapon. Check.
He was ready.
He crept across the lawn. This was so cool it was like he was a secret agent or something. He marched on to the edge of the trees. He takes back everything he said earlier. Logic aside, the woods were terrifying at midnight. He was all alone and the trees looked like giant trolls, their branches thick arms read to reach out and snag him.
His Aunt May's voice echoed in his head. The sage advice he had been given after nearly burning down the apartment after he had fiddled with the oven.
You've got to be more cautious. Think before you act. Because remember; 'curiosity killed the cat'.
He couldn't help but feel like the cat in this situation. Peering back through the darkness to the safety of the house. It wasn't too late. He could turn back, go to bed, pretend nothing had happened. No one would know. He would know. This is ridiculous, Peter scolded himself. Him, Peter Parker, scared of a few trees? Never. Probably wasn't going to see anything tonight anyway. He was a man of facts. He would put his faith in the statistics. He would see this through. Besides the chances of anything coming from Mars was a million to one... or so they said. Though since Thor appeared the odds had probably gone up considerably.
What was he thinking? That Thor was in these woods, Thor had taken the power box? He laughed out loud, feeling rather silly. "Space invaders, really? Why am I an idiot?"
An owl gives a loud hoot in reply, scaring him half to death.
"JESUS! A rhetorical question, asshole!" He yelled back angrily as he tried to slow his heart rate. He was thirteen for crying out loud! He shouldn't be scared by a stupid owl! The large bird's only response was the flutter of its wings as it soared off into the night, likely in the search of more peaceful hunting grounds. He was causing a bit of a racket.
Huffing, he moved to walk again only to fall flat on his face. His foot had caught on a looping tree root hidden beneath the autumn leaves. His unmanly scream filled the night air, echoing off the trees as he hit the ground with a thud. Then to add insult to injury, a large raccoon decided now was the time to dash across the undergrowth vaulting over his tangled legs. He gave another girly screech and scrambled away from the creature. At the noise, the raccoon stopped and stared at him. Its eerie yellow eyes piercing him with a look that, if he had to guess, was telling him to shut up.
Annoyed, he brushes himself off. Picking up his torch he set off again searching for the source of the destruction. More fallen branches littered the path. He knew there was a small electrical substation up ahead. If he hadn't found whatever it was by the time he reached it he would turn back. Pick up the search in the morning. That was the smart thing to do anyway. Well, no. The smart thing would be to turn around and forget this ever happened but hey, nobody ever said he had any common sense.
He continues deeper into the wood. Crackling and sparking can be heard coming from ahead.
The substation.
He gulps. Bravely heading towards the disturbance. He ducks behind a rock to steel his nerves before rounding the last tree. The ground begins to tremble like lots of mini earthquakes.
Thud... Thud... Thud…
He crouches down behind a patch of undergrowth before making a sprint for the small power plant. It looked bigger in the dark, almost glowing. The tremors got stronger.
Thud...Thud…Thud...
The thudding was coming from behind him. He twists around to try and see whatever it was. Which shouldn't be hard, the thing must have been huge to make the ground shake like that.
Oh, God. He was right. It was huge. What it was, was another question. All he could see was its two glowing eyes almost a hundred feet in the air, both fixed hungrily on the substation.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
It hadn't seen him, that was good. He sighed in relief, deflating a little. Dear lord that thing was huge.
Thud.Thud.Thud.
It marched closer.
The minute the clock hit 11 May was out the door and in her beat-up old Corolla. It had been a very long day. As a nurse, she was no stranger to 12 hour shifts. The difference was that she liked being a nurse, saving lives, helping people. Waitressing was thankless work, nothing but sucking up to annoying, whiny adults. No offence but she doesn't give two shits about their life. And her manager! Heaven forbid he actually do some work! No. He would just push it off onto her and the girls. God, he was such a dick.
Needless to say, she hated it. Now here she was finally heading home four hours after her shift had finished. Sighing she coaxed the car in to drive ignoring its loud protests. She would need to take it to the mechanic soon, though it may be cheaper to just replace the damn thing.
The first sign something was wrong was when the street lights went out. It didn't take much for her to guess that it was a power cut. Groaning, she flicked on her high beams. This didn't worry her too much, this happened more often than she cared to admit. Too many goddamn trees. One had likely felled a line again.
Pulling up outside the dark farmhouse, she climbed out of the car. Shutting the door as quietly as she could behind her, wincing as it whined loudly anyway. Maybe Peter could fix it up a bit? He was good with this sort of thing. Couldn't hurt either way. She figured it must be impossible to make that car any worse. Famous last words she chuckled.
She noticed the second sign something was up at the front door. She had been fumbling with her keys only to find it unlocked. That wasn't right. Living in the city meant locking doors was second nature. It was ingrained in their very being, written in their muscle memory. Something they did without thinking. Such a small thing to most sent her alarm bells ringing. That door should never be unlocked. She made her way through the pitch darkness guided only by the faint silvery moonlight seeping in through the windows. She quickly locates the kitchen, digging through the unorganised drawers for a torch. It didn't take her very long to find one even if it was a cheap crappy one that she was fairly certain had come from a Christmas cracker four years ago.
Now armed with a light she entered the living room. The narrow beam of light cutting through the shadows. Frowning as she finds the abandoned movie night. She took in the candy wrappers and chip packets. Blankets were strewn across almost every surface. The room was a pigsty.
Had Peter listened to anything she had said earlier?
"Peter!" She hollered. She had every intention of waking him up and forcing that kid to clean this mess. He could do it in the dark for all she cared. Peter was a big boy now he knew what he had done wrong and he knew better than to leave the place looking like this.
There was no answer.
That was the third and final strike. Something was very wrong. Peter slept like a log, they both did, but he always, always answered her.
"Peter? Honey?" She swiftly climbed the stairs as fast as she dared in the dark.
There was still no response.
"Peter? Peter?" She knocked on his door, worry lacing her voice. Why wasn't he answering?
Her question was answered soon enough.
Pushing open Peter's bedroom door she expected to see the teenager asleep with his headphones on or something. The bed was empty. Torchlight darted around the messy bedroom, searching for any sign of the missing boy.
"Peter?!"
No. No. No! This could not be happening. Where was her baby? She couldn't lose him. Not him too. She needed him, he was all she had left. She ran outside, circling the house, "Peter? PETER!"
Oh, no. This was bad. This was very, very bad. The massive metal feet came closer closing in the distance between it and Peter. Whatever it was, it was about to step on him. Crush him like an insignificant insect that got in its way. He ran. The thing's feet came ever closer. He wasn't going to make it. This is how he dies, he was going to die here squished like an ant under a boot…
Fate, luck, or just really good fortune (for a change), he doesn't care what you call it, he tripped over a rock, slamming to the ground for the second time that night. The laws of physics state that if he had kept moving he would have ended up occupying the same space as the giant's foot. Physics also states that two objects are unable to occupy the same space. One would have to give way, or, in other words, he would have been crushed. Never before had he been so grateful for a rock.
He looked up from the tight ball he had forced himself into. He looked in awe as he saw the thing properly for the first time. Silhouetted against the glowing pylons he studied it. The great mysterious thing was a giant metal man. Over 100 feet tall, he looked like a large scale working model of an old fashioned toy robot. He watched the robot carefully. It was currently... eating(?) the powerplant. It was eating the substation. It was grabbing everything in sight and shoving it greedily down its throat. Wait… did robots even have throats? He pondered.
Peter didn't think this giant robot was of earth. He could be wrong but despite its humanoid appearance, it just looked off, just ever so slightly... alien. It looked dangerous, certainly a thousand tones of steel would be a threat to anyone's health, but it had no visible signs of weaponry. He was relieved to find it didn't look Chitauri either, The earth didn't much like the Chitauri, not after their attack on New York. Peter had been in midtown when the invasion started (he'd been shopping with uncle Ben as he needed yet another pair of glasses, courtesy of Flash.) and could remember the way they had swarmed over everything, tearing up the street as the went along, ripping chunks off of buildings. He remembered the sickly grey hue of their scaley skin and the hair-splitting sound of their screeches.
So much for a million to one.
He shakes himself out of he reverie and watches in horror as the Giant grabbed one of the live transformers. An unearthly sound escaped it. Peter flinched violently at the sound. It was somewhere between, nails on a chalkboard and grinding gears but at the same time, a high pitched whine.
Four thousand volts of energy surged through the Giant's metal body. The Giant stumbles, desperate to get away from the pain. It lurched backward clumsily, right into the equally live power lines. Screaming in agony as the electricity burned him. Metal limbs flailing as the Giant tried to wrestle itself free. This only served to get him knotted tighter in the wire's ruthless grasp.
The sound of grinding metal filled the night air as the Giant continued to scream. Hands clamped firmly over his ears Peter makes his choice.
Sparks rain down on him as he dashes the last stretch to the now wrecked substation. His eyes scanning the now bent and twisted power plant for the emergency stop button, finding what he was searching for weaved his way through the wreckage. He grabbed the switch, tugging as hard as he could. Peter had never been particularly strong, and for something that should have been easy enough for the average Joe (emergency and all) the switch was being very resistant. He heaved at it wishing not for the first time he had any notable upper body strength or any body strength really. Finally throwing all of his hundred and ten pounds of weight down on the stubborn lever, he was almost hanging off it. That did the trick, the switch giving way. Panting softly he waited as the soft glow surrounding him softly faded as the electricity shut off. The faint electric hum dying down.
The Giant sagged in relief. Peter watches in alarm as the light in the Giant's eyes faded. It's metal limbs locked up the joints protesting under the strain of the metal man's deadweight. One by one the power lines snapped and the Giant pitched backwards, the ground rushing up to meet it. The sound of the collision was deafening. Peter could feel the shockwave reverberate through the still air he was so close, it was loud enough that he was certain it must have woken the entire town.
Was it dead?
Shit!
Had he killed it?
Please don't be dead, he thought silently.
He wasn't sure what came over him, maybe it was the scientist in his heart or maybe it was the same curiosity that got that cat killed. Peter scrambled over to the Giant's side. Clambering clumsily up a downed tree. He threw a stone at the robot. Not so much as a twitch. Feeling brave he came closer, he climbed up on to the massive head. Peering curiously into its gaping mouth. He drops a pebble into the darkness. It clattered into the nothingness disappearing from view.
Entranced, he didn't notice as the giant began to stir. The light returning to its eyes. The giant looked at the small human crouched on its head curiously. Peter glanced behind him, looking away from the massive mouth. He screamed, having seen the glowing eyes. He leapt off the metal man as if burned. He scrambled as fast as he could back down the tree. Running as fast as he could, looking back only once to see the Giant shakily getting to its feet. His heart beating a million miles per hour, Peter surged onward. He stumbled out onto a dirt road. He had to get out of there.
Still screaming Peter runs toward the nearest road. He flagged down the first car he sees; which to his great relief was Aunt May's. He had never been so happy to see the hunk of junk they called a car. May slammed on the breaks, throwing herself out of the door the moment the car stopped moving.
"PETER!" May flew into him. Bundling the panting boy up into her arms. Pulling back to inspect her kid, she took in the minor scrapes and scraps. Then she notices how hard her kid is breathing. Each breath coming out ragged and strained. Quickly she ran back to the car snagging his emergency inhaler.
What the hell was he doing out here?
Peter hadn't even realised how hard his breathing had gotten until Aunt May was holding out his spare inhaler. He took it gratefully, uncomfortable now that he was aware of the tightness in his chest. After a few puffs from it, his breaths came easier. Sighing in relief he looked back at his Aunt who had wrapped her arms around him again.
His relief was short-lived, quickly turning to dread as his Aunt's expression shifts from relief to anger.
"What the Hell do you think you're doing out here?! You know better than to run off alone at night. What if something had happened to you?" her scolding began. "Of all the irresponsible, reckless, idiot things to do! Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?"
"I'm really sorry May," Peter ducked his head in shame. Yeah, tonight really wasn't his best ideas.
"Don't you ever do anything like this again, Peter. I was terrified. I thought I'd lost you." She pulled him back into a crushing hug. She began to drag him over to the car, bundling him in a fast as she could.
Peter decided to test the waters. She couldn't be that mad, could she? "Aunt May! You'll never believe this... something ate our power box!"
May, who had been expecting this shook her head, exhausted. She had been at work since 10 am this morning and wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed. "Peter." She growled through grit teeth warning clear in her tone. She had another long shift tomorrow.
Peter apparently misread her mood because he ploughed on anyway. "No! No no. May! I'm serious! But it's not Sputnik like Mister Potts said. It's" he spluttered excitedly having already forgotten that said 'Robot' had almost crushed him ten minutes ago. His splutter turned into a cough and he took another puff from his inhaler before taking off again. "It's a ROBOT! A GIANT ROBOT!"
"Peter... PETER! Please!" May hits the breaks for the second time that night, whipping round to face her nephew, fixing him with a glare. She really couldn't handle this right now.
"But this Robot was like a hundred feet tall." He pouted.
"PETER. STOP IT! Just please stop. I'm not... I'm not in the mood. Come on. Let's go home. We can talk in the morning.
May and Peter drove the rest of the way back in silence. Just as they leave the forest Peter turns around and scans the tree line for the Giant. He spots the Giant standing off in the distance watching as they drive away.