"WHAT... is this?" I whisper, my voice swallowed by the chaos in front of me. The scene is pure devastation, the kind that twists your stomach and makes your heart pound.
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Cars are smashed, crumpled like discarded soda cans, some flipped on their backs while others are embedded into nearby buildings like jagged puzzle pieces that don't fit. Glass shards glitter under the streetlights, scattered like confetti, but there's nothing celebratory here.
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It's a massacre. Bodies—police officers, civilians—are strewn across the street, some pinned under wreckage, some slumped in grotesque, unnatural positions. Blood streaks the asphalt, its crimson stain the only color in this otherwise gray world.
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I rush to the nearest body, a cop in uniform. His face is obscured by blood and broken glass, but I don't need to see his eyes to know the truth. I place trembling fingers on his neck, desperate to find a pulse, any sign of life.
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Nothing.
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My breath catches, a knot tightening in my throat. "Who... who could've done this?" The words hang in the air, unanswered, as if the city itself is holding its breath.
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Then, everything around me goes quiet. Too quiet.
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My senses sharpen in the silence, every nerve on fire. I hear everything—the steady hum of electricity through the streetlights, the faint buzz of a fly to my left, the trickle of water sliding into a sewer grate to my right. But then, my body goes cold, my spine stiffens.
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Behind me.
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It's instinct more than anything else that gets me moving. My senses scream behind!
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Just a fraction of a second before a deafening roar fills the air. I throw myself sideways, my heart lurching as a car whistles past me, smashing into the building where I'd just stood.
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Shards of brick and debris rain down as I scramble to my feet, instinctively clinging to the nearest wall, my sticky fingers gripping onto the rough surface.
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I glance down, my breath heavy, heart thundering in my chest. My mind races, but I can't afford the luxury of confusion or panic—not now. Not with something—someone—out there, hurling cars like baseballs.
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I stay plastered against the wall, every muscle tense, eyes scanning the wreckage below, trying to make sense of the shadow moving amidst the destruction. This isn't just some random villain causing chaos. There's intent here, there's power.
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Then I see him.
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He's massive, hulking in the moonlight, his muscles straining beneath torn clothing that's soaked with blood—not his, judging by the way he moves. His face, twisted in a cruel grin, gleams with the satisfaction of destruction. He stands over the broken bodies and shattered cars like a king surveying his kingdom of chaos.
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"I've heard about you, little spider," he growls, voice like gravel being ground under a steel boot. His eyes lock onto mine, and I feel the weight of his hatred. "I do not intend to let you stand in my way."
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I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry, trying not to let the fear creeping up my spine show. My heart's hammering in my chest, my mind racing with plans, but all of them feel like bad ideas. Still, I can't let him see me sweat. Not now. Not when he's already carved his way through so many people.
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Breathe, Peter.
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"Yeah?" My voice sounds steadier than I feel. "Well, I don't intend to let you kill anymore people." I loosen my shoulders, trying to play it cool. "This stops now."
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Without thinking, I leap from the wall, firing a web at his face. The sticky strands latch onto his nose, covering his eyes for a brief second, long enough for me to pull myself toward him. My fist cracks against the side of his jaw, a solid hit that should've sent anyone else reeling.
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But not him.
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He barely budges, blinking through the webbing with a wild grin. His teeth gleam in the dark, and I swear I hear him chuckle.
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"You call that punch?" His voice is dripping with amusement, like I'm a kid who just threw a pebble at a freight train. "This... is punch."
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Before I can react, his massive fist hurtles toward me. I try to dodge, but he's faster than I expected. His knuckles slam into my ribs with the force of a speeding truck, and I feel the air leave my lungs in one agonizing gasp. My body's weightless for a second before I'm flung through the air, crashing through a plate-glass window. The world shatters around me as I tumble into a display of mannequins. Their plastic limbs scatter across the floor, grotesque and lifeless, while I land in a crumpled heap.
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Pain explodes in my side, spreading through my body like wildfire. My head's ringing like someone struck a bell inside my skull. It would be so easy to just stay here, to let unconsciousness take me, to give up for just a moment and rest.
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But then I hear him—those footsteps. Each one heavier than the last, the ground trembling beneath his weight. He's charging, I know it without looking. I can feel the rumble in my bones, hear the fury in his breath. The sound grows louder, closer, and when I glance up, I see him.
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He's coming at me full-speed, his massive frame hunched forward, the horn on his suit gleaming, aimed right at me like a living, breathing battering ram.
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He's going to skewer me.
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Panic jolts through me like a live wire. Move, Parker. MOVE!
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I leap out of the way just in time as Rhino barrels through the storefront like a runaway train. The impact shatters the place apart, debris flying in all directions, and I hear the terrified screams of the workers scrambling for the back exit. Rhino's sheer size makes him like a wrecking ball that can't be stopped, and yet he moves with a weird sort of grace, like destruction is his natural state.
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"So, first it's a giant Lizard, then a scorpion, and now a Rhino?" I mutter, flipping over a display counter as he charges again, his footsteps making the floor tremble beneath me. "Where are you guys even coming from? What do I call you? Rhino-Man? Horn King? Nah, that one sounds weird."
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He roars, a deep, guttural sound that rattles the glass, and swipes at me with a hand the size of a truck tire. "Stand still so I can squash you!"
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His voice is full of rage and frustration, like an animal backed into a corner, but I can't focus on that now. My senses are on high alert as I dodge, jumping from wall to wall, evading each of his brutal attacks. I try to land a punch, aiming for the side of his jaw again, but it's like hitting concrete. His hide—or whatever that armor is—absorbs the impact like I'm swatting at him with a feather.
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Before I can even blink, his massive hand backhands me across the store, and suddenly I'm airborne again, the world a blur of glass and metal. My body slams through the front door, shattering it as I crash onto the street. I roll to a stop, my limbs burning, ribs aching, and every inch of me screaming in protest. Damn, he's strong. Out of all the guys I've fought, Rhino's definitely in a league of his own.
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Struggling to my feet, I wince as I groan, trying to push the pain aside. "Okay... how about we cut for halftime?" I call out, staggering as I stand. "I think you could use it."
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Rhino smashes his way out of the store, the pavement cracking beneath his feet like it's made of brittle ice. His eyes are full of fury, but there's something else there too—a kind of pain, a sadness buried beneath the rage. "No breaks," he snarls. "Only death for you. And for him. And anyone who stands in my way."
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I freeze for a second. There's something in his tone that makes me hesitate, like maybe this isn't just a one-man wrecking crew. "Wait, 'him'? Who's him? And... hold on, are you saying somebody did this to you?"
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But Rhino's not listening. He charges again, and I barely dodge in time, my body aching as I flip over his hulking frame. He slams into a car, flattening it with a single blow, but I can't shake what he said. There's something off about this whole thing—more than just another big, bad guy wanting to cause mayhem.
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"Even if that's true, what gives you the right to hurt all these people? And kill?" I shout, jumping back as he demolishes another car.
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He laughs, the sound dark and hollow. "Aleksei cares not for the trash that stands in his way," he says, his voice cold and detached. "He is all-powerful now. Nobody can stop him."
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I pause, raising an eyebrow, suddenly feeling a pit form in my stomach. "Uh... are you... Aleksei?"
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His eyes narrow as he straightens up, towering over me, his fists clenched so tight I can hear his knuckles crack.
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"Yes," he growls, his voice low and menacing, "I was Aleksei once... but now I am this thing. And now...I don't have to answer to no one."
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That's when it hits me. He's not just some thug—he's been turned into this. Someone actually did do this to him.
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But before I can process it, he charges again, faster than before, his horn gleaming in the night, and this time I barely manage to leap out of the way.
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I leap out of the way just in time, Rhino's horn skimming the air where my chest had been a second earlier. He barrels past me, smashing through another row of cars, flipping them over like they're made of plastic.
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I need to think fast. I can't keep dodging him forever, and every time I hit him, it's like he barely even feels it. This guy's built like a tank, I think, scrambling up a nearby streetlight and clinging to the top like it's a lifeline. He turns, his eyes glowing with rage, and charges again.
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Okay, time for a new plan. I shoot a webline at a nearby dumpster, hurling it in his path, hoping the sheer weight will slow him down. It collides with him head-on—but all it does is bounce off. He barely even stumbles, just plows through it like it's made of cardboard.
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"Seriously?!" I yell, more to myself than to him.
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I swing out of the way as he charges again, this time leaping toward a nearby crane that's stationed in front of a construction site. If I can just get some leverage... I shoot two quick web-lines and yank down on the massive steel wrecking ball attached to the crane, letting it drop with a thundering crash in front of Rhino, hoping to knock him off balance.
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He doesn't even flinch. He charges straight into it, the impact sending a shockwave through the ground. The crane groans, toppling over as the ball swings wildly, but it barely slows him down. I leap to the side, dodging as the crane's metal arm crashes to the ground behind me.
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"Okay," I mutter, trying to catch my breath. "That didn't work. At all."
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But he's not giving me any time to think. Rhino roars, his eyes blazing with fury, and charges at full speed, the ground shaking beneath him.
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I need to stop him. Now.
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I shoot a web at a nearby billboard, using all the strength I have to tear it from its supports. The massive structure topples forward, slamming into Rhino's path. For a moment, I think it might work—he slows down, trying to muscle his way through the wreckage—but then, with a bellowing roar, he tears through it like tissue paper.
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This guy isn't just strong—he's relentless.
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As he storms through the wreckage, I realize there's only one thing left: I'm going to have to meet him head-on. This isn't just a fight anymore. It's survival.
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I brace myself and leap at him, hitting him with everything I've got. Fists fly. He swings, I duck. I jab, he counters. Each blow feels like slamming into a concrete wall, but I can't stop. My vision blurs as his fist connects with my side, sending me tumbling across the asphalt.
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Police cars surround us now, red and blue lights flashing, casting chaotic shadows over the street. Civilians are gathered, watching in horror, some recording with their phones, others frozen in shock as they see me—Spider-Man—getting pummeled by this juggernaut.
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I force myself to my feet, my muscles screaming in protest. "Alright, big guy... let's see what you've got," I mutter, spitting out blood.
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Rhino cracks his knuckles. "You're still standing?" His voice is incredulous. "You've got guts, I'll give you that."
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I don't respond. I'm too busy trying to strategize, to find some kind of weak spot, but it's becoming clear—there is none. He's not just tough. He's unstoppable.
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He charges again, and this time I meet him halfway, swinging with everything I have, landing a solid punch to his jaw. It barely fazes him. His fist comes down on my shoulder, and I hear the sickening crack of bone as I'm driven into the pavement.
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Pain explodes in my body, but I can't stop now. I push myself up, ignoring the agony, and swing another punch. He catches my wrist mid-swing, grinning like a madman, and slams me into the side of a car, the metal crumpling beneath the impact.
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"Spider-Man, huh? You don't look so amazing now," he taunts, dragging me up by my costume, his fist raised for the final blow.
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I grit my teeth, my vision swimming, but I can't let him win. I won't let him win.
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With one final burst of energy, I shoot a web at his face, yanking myself up just enough to break free from his grip. I twist in midair, using his own momentum to send him crashing into a fire hydrant. The impact sends a geyser of water into the air, and for a moment, I have the upper hand.
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But it doesn't last. He gets up, shaking off the water like it's nothing, and turns back to me, his face twisted with fury.
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"That's it!" he roars. "No more games!"
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He charges again, and this time I don't have the strength to dodge. His horn slams into my side, sending me flying through the air and into a parked truck. The impact is deafening, and everything goes white with pain.
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I collapse onto the street, barely able to move. My vision fades in and out, but I can see him, looming over me, ready to finish the job.
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I can't stop him. Not like this. Not alone.
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Police sirens blare in the distance, and I hear the shouts of officers, but I know it's too late. Rhino's too strong. Too fast.
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"Any last words, bug?" he growls, raising his fist for the final blow.
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I stare up at him, blood trickling down my face, my body broken and bruised. But I'm Spider-Man. I don't give up.
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"Yeah," I mutter, barely able to speak through the pain. "So, have we settled on calling you the rhino?"
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With a final surge of strength, I shoot a webline at the nearest building, yanking myself out of the way just as his fist comes crashing down, shattering the pavement where I'd been lying.
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I swing weakly to the side, collapsing against a wall, barely able to stand.
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Rhino turns to me, snorting with frustration, but before he can charge again, I hear something in the distance. A sound... like engines roaring.
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As the roaring sound of engines draws closer, I catch a glimpse of a convoy of SWAT vehicles pulling up, tires screeching as the heavily armed officers pour out onto the street. Their black gear glistens under the flashing lights, weapons drawn and aimed straight at Rhino.
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"Swat! Stand down!" one of the officers shouts through a megaphone, his voice barely audible over the chaos.
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Rhino turns, and for a moment, he looks... amused.
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"Really?" he grumbles, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. "More bugs to squash?"
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The SWAT team moves in fast, surrounding him from all sides. I stumble to my feet, trying to wave them off. "Wait—no! You don't know what you're dealing with!" I shout, but my voice cracks, drowned out by the pounding of boots and the clattering of gear.
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One of the officers pulls the pin on a canister and throws it at Rhino's feet. Tear gas.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1A40ylW4tH
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White clouds hiss into the air, swirling around him. I watch as the gas envelops his hulking form, choking the street in a thick fog. The officers move in cautiously, weapons raised, assuming he's down for the count.
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But they're wrong.
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So very wrong.
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A deep, guttural growl echoes from the fog, and then, like a thunderclap, Rhino roars. The gas doesn't weaken him—it enrages him.
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"Idiots!" I mutter under my breath loudly, already moving. I shoot a webline to the nearest SWAT officer and yank him out of the way just as Rhino charges through the smoke, his massive body bulldozing through everything in his path. Cars are flipped, light poles snapped like toothpicks, and officers are scattered like bowling pins.
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I spring into action, grabbing one officer and tossing him onto a nearby rooftop, webbing two more out of Rhino's way. But it's chaos. There are too many of them, and Rhino is too fast.
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"Move!" I shout, trying to corral the SWAT team out of Rhino's warpath. I manage to web up two more officers, pulling them to safety, but the others are scrambling, panicked.
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Rhino's rage is like nothing I've ever seen. His skin is practically steaming, his movements faster, more erratic. He swings wildly, smashing into the SWAT vans, turning them into scrap metal. One officer gets too close, and Rhino grabs him, lifting him like a ragdoll.
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"No!" I yell, shooting a web at the officer and yanking him free just before Rhino can crush him in his grip.
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But Rhino's too quick. He whips around, swinging his massive fist at me. I don't even have time to dodge. The blow catches me full force, sending me flying into a building. The impact is brutal. I crash through brick and mortar, my body screaming in pain as I collapse onto the rubble.
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I can't do this. My body feels like it's breaking down, every inch of me aching, my vision blurry. But I can't let him win. I can't let him hurt anyone else.
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I push myself up, groaning as I stagger to my feet. I have to end this.
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Rhino charges again, and this time, I don't dodge. I leap straight at him, fists raised, bringing them down with everything I've got. I rain blow after blow onto him—his head, his chest, his back—whatever I can reach. My knuckles feel like they're shattering with each hit, but I don't stop.
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He swings wildly, trying to catch me, but I'm faster. I duck under his arms, slam my fist into his gut, leap onto his back and start pounding his head. But it's like hitting solid rock. Every punch I throw feels useless, but I don't back down.
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I can't back down.
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I grab a chunk of concrete from the street and smash it against his skull. He staggers, but just for a second. I use that moment to web his legs, yank him forward, and send him crashing into a parked truck.
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But he gets up. He always gets up.
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Rhino snarls, blood trickling from his mouth. His eyes are wild with fury, his massive hands clawing at the pavement as he rises. He swings again, and this time I'm not fast enough. His fist slams into my ribs, sending me skidding across the street like a ragdoll.
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Pain explodes in my chest. Something's broken. Maybe everything's broken.
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But I get up.
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I throw another punch. Then another. Each one weaker than the last, but I keep going. I have to keep going. My fists are bleeding now, the skin torn from the relentless assault, but I won't stop. I swing again, putting every ounce of strength left in my body into the punch.
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This time, I feel something. A crack. Rhino grunts, stumbling back, his eyes wide in shock. I follow it up with another punch, and another, and another, each blow more desperate than the last.
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"I'm... not... done..." I growl through gritted teeth, my voice hoarse from the pain.
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Rhino reels, his massive body swaying as I land one final punch straight to his jaw. He staggers back, his knees buckling, and for the first time, I see doubt flicker in his eyes.
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But it's not over. Not yet.
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With a roar, Rhino charges again, his horn aimed straight at me. I leap out of the way, webbing him mid-charge, slamming him into the ground. But he's still not stopping. His rage is too deep, too overwhelming.
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We collide again, fists flying, blood spilling. Civilians scream, watching from the sidewalks, the police frozen in shock as we tear the street apart, locked in a brutal slugging match. Each blow sends shockwaves through my body, but I keep fighting.
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I can't let him win.
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We crash into a bus, tearing through the metal as I hammer him with everything I have left. Rhino roars in pain, his body starting to give way under the relentless onslaught.
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"I'm... Spider-Man," I mutter, my voice barely a whisper now, my vision going dark. "And I don't... back... down..."
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With one final punch, I slam him into the pavement, the impact shaking the ground beneath us. Rhino groans, his massive body finally going still, the fight draining out of him.
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I collapse onto the street next to him, barely able to breathe. My body is broken, battered, but I'm still alive.
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The SWAT team approaches cautiously, their weapons still trained on Rhino's unconscious form. I watch through blurry eyes as they secure him, the battle finally over.
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"Should we grab him too?" I hear one of the officers say.
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Captain Stacy comes into view, his eyes glazing over my injured body. "Hey, kid, can you hear me?" He says, and for a moment I think he might actually be concerned.
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I don't open my mouth though, still painful right now.
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"You're badly messed up, we're gonna take you to get some treatment, alright? Just stay there." Captain Stacy, click his radio calling for something or other, my consciousness begins to fade in and out...if I don't get up....then I'll be found out, and no more Spider-Man.
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I don't wait for whoever it is that he called to answer. My instincts kick in, and I shoot a web toward a nearby building, desperate to escape the chaos and confusion. The pain radiates through my body with each movement, a sharp reminder of how close I came to being crushed under Rhino's fury.
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With one final, pained glance over my shoulder, I watch them haul the unconscious beast away, while Captain Stacy stares as I retreat. I hope they can contain him.
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But something about what that Rhino said gnaws at my mind—did someone create him? If so, is this connected to Dr. Connors or that Scorpion guy? The questions swirl, but before I can dive deeper, I feel a familiar, gut-wrenching sensation: I try to shoot another web, and nothing comes out.
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My heart drops. No. No, no, no! I'm falling now, plummeting, and all I can think about is the agonizing impact that awaits me.
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The ground rushes up too fast, and I brace for the inevitable crash. I smack into the metal stairs of a nearby building before tumbling gracelessly into a trash can. The sound of crumpling metal and my own groan echoes in the dim alleyway. "Ow." The word barely escapes my lips before I nearly pass out from the surge of pain engulfing my body.
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I lay there for a few moments, surrounded by the stench of refuse, feeling utterly defeated. My suit is torn, shredded in places where Rhino's fists had collided with me. My hands are bloodied and raw, the skin ripped and bruised from the relentless barrage I endured. I survived—but at what cost?
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I close my eyes, trying to push the pain to the back of my mind. I need to rest, but the thought of staying here, of letting weakness claim me, makes me shudder.
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Even though every breath sends shockwaves of agony through my ribcage, I know I have to move. I glance down at my left arm; it feels wrong, twisted at an unnatural angle. I wince at the thought of how badly I must look.
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Somehow, I have to take care of this broken arm, but the thought of trying to make it all the way home feels insurmountable. The pain is blinding, each heartbeat a reminder of how close I came to being crushed by Rhino's brute force. I can barely keep my eyes open, yet the urge to push through is stronger than the pain.
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If can make it back to my backpack—the one I stashed earlier. The thought of reaching for my phone to call someone flickers in my mind. There's only one person I can think of.
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Struggling to my feet, I brace myself against the wall of the alley, the rough brick digging into my palm. I glance down the dim corridor of the alleyway, the fading light feeling like a last breath. Just get to the backpack. You can do this.
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Each step is a battle, every inch a reminder of my fragility. My muscles scream at me, each jolt sending fresh waves of pain through my body, but I keep moving.
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As I finally reach the backpack, I drop to my knees, the cold ground a welcome contrast to the heat surging through my aching limbs.
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Changing out of my suit into my clothes feels like I'm running a marathon right now, I slide on my pants and pray that nobody decides that this would be the time for some dumpster diving. Luckily the streets are clear after the Rhino came through, I go through my contacts and I hesitate for a few minutes before pressing call.
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Then I wait, and feel my eyes becoming harder and harder to keep open.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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"Peter?"
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I blink my eyes open, startled by the darkness surrounding me. It takes a moment for my vision to adjust, the shadows slowly coalescing into familiar shapes.
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"Felicia... you came..." I manage a pained smile, relief flooding over me like a balm. "I didn't think..."
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Felicia kneels beside me, her expression a mix of concern and disbelief. "Jesus, what happened to you? Does this have to do with why everything looks destroyed?"
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I let out a low chuckle, the sound laced with pain. "I guess you could say that." It's all I can manage, my body screaming at me to rest, to give in to the darkness that threatens to pull me under.
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Her gaze lingers on me, searching my battered face for answers. I know she has a hundred questions swirling in her mind, and I can feel the weight of the secret I've kept. If she wasn't sure before, she must know now. I am the spider in the web of chaos.
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"Come on, my place isn't far from here. My dad's gone, and it would be tragic to let you bleed out and die in this alley." There's an urgency in her voice, mixed with a no-nonsense tone that I find oddly comforting.
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"Thank you," I breathe, each word a struggle, but my gratitude is genuine. "I didn't... I didn't know what to do."
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"Yeah, yeah," she replies, her hands strong as she helps lift my battered body. "God, it looks like you got hit by a truck or something. You're gonna have to explain everything to me later, you got that?"
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"I promise." The words spill out before I can think, a promise forged in pain and desperation.
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With that, she takes my arm, guiding me through the dimly lit streets. Each step sends sharp jolts of agony through my body, but her presence is a lifeline, grounding me amidst the storm of my thoughts. The shadows seem to loom larger than life, memories of the fight replaying in my mind—the sound of shattering glass, the thunder of Rhino's charges, the feeling of helplessness as he pummeled me into the ground.
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I steal glances at Felicia, her features illuminated by the sparse streetlights. There's determination etched on her face, an unwavering resolve that somehow pushes me forward.
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The pain feels less overwhelming when I focus on her, on the way she walks with purpose, as if she's leading me out of the darkness—not just the physical space around us, but the mental abyss I've been teetering on since that brutal confrontation.
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Finally, we reach her apartment, and she helps me inside. The door closes behind us, a barrier against the outside world, but it also feels like a threshold I've crossed. Inside, the air is warm and inviting, yet it does little to ease the chill of fear that grips me.
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Felicia leads me to the couch, and I collapse onto it, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. I close my eyes for a brief moment, the exhaustion threatening to pull me under. But I can't afford to drift away—not now.
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"Just hang tight," she says, her voice steady as she disappears into another room. I can hear the sounds of water running, the clinking of something—a glass? A first aid kit? My mind races with a thousand thoughts, but one rises to the surface: I survived, and I can't keep running from the truth.
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When she returns, she's holding a damp cloth and a small bottle of antiseptic. "This is going to sting," she warns, her voice softening as she kneels beside me again.
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I take a deep breath, nodding even though I'm not sure I'm ready for whatever pain comes next. "I can handle it," I say, but I'm not sure if I believe it.
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As she dabs at my wounds, I wince, each touch igniting the fire of pain within me. "You're going to tell me everything, right?" she prompts, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.
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"Yeah," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. "I will."
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With each passing moment, the warmth of her presence begins to thaw the icy grip of fear. It's a start, a fragile beginning to the conversation I know we need to have. I can't keep living this double life.
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And as I lay there, I realize that maybe—just maybe—I don't have to face this alone anymore.
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