One of the things that comes with the territory of being the city that never sleeps is that nights never shut up.
Traffic, sirens, subways, and just general human noise pollution. You get used to it after a while, and it becomes white noise. It was nice for guys like Rico, since it kept the bad thoughts quiet.
But tonight, standing in the rickety warehouse near the docks, as the rain hammered the roof, mixing with the groans of the wind, he wished there was more noise. Anything to help drown out the feeling he was getting.
"Come on, hurry it up." Sal said, his voice echoing off the metal walls. "We ain't got all night."
"Yeah, yeah." Rico muttered as he slid a crate onto a pallet jack. "You're acting like the boss is gonna give you a kiss for being early."
"Don't tempt him." one of the others said.
A weak laughter resounded from the crew, seven guys total, all stereotypical muscle heads with little brains.
They'd been running all kinds of products through the docks for years, but usually drugs. About a year ago, they had started moving Venom, and it had been like printing money. Big, dumb bodybuilders and wannabe gangsters loved the stuff. But this shipment was different; no Venom. The stuff had dried up practically overnight, not long ago.
At first, the higher-ups thought someone else had cut a deal with the supplier, but all that was left in the market was old stock. Nothing new came in from anyone, and it wasn't just in New York; it was all over the world. Just gone. No one knew why either.
Didn't matter much to Rico, but the streets had noticed. The addicts were clawing, the gangs were restless. But that created a vacuum that everybody wanted to fill.
Tonight's job was an attempt at filling that vacuum. Something called Drops.
Rico didn't know much about it, nor did he want to; man-made drugs weren't his thing. The stuff was red and came in little plastic things that looked like eyedroppers. It worked the same way, too.
"You put a couple of drops in your eyes and it's like you're flying. Like your nerves have been plugged into a live wire. Whole new level of high. No muscle freaks, no injections, no needles. Clean. Classy. High-end." Sal had told him earlier that week
Rico had snorted at that. Nobody dealt in clean in this business.
He stacked another crate and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. The others joked around, lighting cigarettes even though the place already reeked of fuel and oil. That, plus the humidity from the rain, made the air feel heavy and thick.
"Soon as we're done, I'm hitting Mick's Diner." one of the guys said. "Steak and eggs, man. Best thing about working at night."
"Best thing about working at night is getting paid." another replied, the whole crew laughing.
Rico chuckled along and was about to take a break when something clinked above them. It was a small noise, like a window pane being tapped.
Everyone froze.
"What was that?" one of them said.
"The wind or rain." Sal muttered. "This dump's older than dirt."
"Yeah." Rico said, forcing a laugh. "Old and haunted."
"Shut up and keep working."
They went back to work, but more slowly, unable to help it as their eyes flicked up at the rafters. The bulb overhead buzzed and flickered. The shadows seemed to stretch a little longer.
"I need to take a leak." muttered Tony.
"Make it quick." said Sal.
"Yeah, yeah." muttered Tony, moving toward the far corner of the warehouse.
The others kept loading crates, but the chattering had stopped. Every sound seemed too loud, every slam of wood, every cough or grunt sounded too loud. They were unnerved, and no one knew why.
A minute passed. Then another.
Rico frowned and looked toward the corner Tony had gone, and saw no sign of him.
"Hey, Tony!" he called out to no answer.
He looked at Sal, who was frowning.
"Probably just taking his time." Sal muttered, but he didn't sound too convinced.
Then came a dull thump; the kind of sound that came from something heavy hitting the ground.
Everyone froze for a moment before pulling out their guns.
Sal raised his gun, shouting as he moved forward a few steps. "Tony? That you?"
No reply. Just the creak of the rafters, the steady pounding of rain, and the buzz of the lights.
"Maybe he slipped." Rico muttered, though it felt more like he was trying to convince himself than anyone else.
Then came another thump; this one closer.
Everyone turned towards it, guns aimed.
"Quit messing around, jackass." shouted Sal.
The lights flickered for half a second before stabilizing.
Then one of the guys screamed.
Rico spun just in time to see something drop from the rafters; a dark shape moving so fast it looked like a shadow come to life. It hit one of the men in the chest, sending him flying into a pile of crates.
The others opened fire immediately, the muzzle flashes lighting up the warehouse. But they weren't shooting at anything. Whatever it was was gone before the first shell hit the floor.
"Where'd he go?!" someone yelled.
"Shut up!" Sal shouted. "Watch the-"
A web shot out of the dark and yanked Sal's gun from his hand.
"It's Spider-Man!" another shouted.
"Fuck no! Spider-Man never shuts the hell up!" said another. "I think it's Batman!"
The moment he said that, another web shot out from above, sticking over his mouth and muffling the rest of his words.
Everyone froze.
"I-it's Spider-Man." someone whispered.
"H-he's messing with us." one of them said. "He's trying to scare us."
But Rico knew that he wasn't trying. He just was.
Another noise came, a thwip followed by a grunt, and one of the guys vanished upward into the dark, his gun clattering onto the floor a second later, still smoking.
"Oh, hell no-" said Rico before a crash cut him off.
The stack of crates to his left exploded outward as someone slammed into them and didn't get back up.
"Lights!" Sal yelled. "Turn the damn ligh-"
The bulbs burst one by one. Glass rained down on them, tiny sparks fizzling as the warehouse was swallowed by darkness.
The only light came from the storm outside, lightning flashing through the windows in quick bursts.
Each flash showed something new.
One guy running for the door. Another being yanked back into the dark by a line of webbing. The last one spinning in circles, gun shaking, eyes darting everywhere.
Then a single bolt of lightning lit up the ceiling.
Spider-Man was there, crouched on the steel beam above them, rain dripping off his mask, those white lenses glowing like the eyes of an inhuman predator.
And then the light was gone again.
Rico couldn't move. Couldn't even think. He just waited for it to happen.
Something landed behind him with a heavy thud, and he spun around, gun trembling.
Spider-Man stepped forward, silent. His outline was barely visible, and when lightning struck again, it framed him like a horror movie monster.
Rico fired and kept firing until the gun was empty. With each shot, the muzzle flash illuminated his mask and his white eyes, cold and unflinching as he dodged the shots.
The next thing he knew, he was yanked off his feet and slammed backward into a metal pillar before webbing pinned him there.
"P-please." he stammered. "I-I don't know anything! I-I just move the boxes, man! I don't-"
Spider-Man didn't answer. He just stared. Those big, white lenses reflected every flash of lightning.
Then, without a word, he shot another web, sealing Rico's mouth shut.
A second later, he was gone.
By the time the cops had arrived, the place was silent again. The storm had eased to a gentle drizzle. Every one of Rico's crew was webbed up, hanging from beams, stuck to crates, webbed to pillars.
"Jesus, he got the whole crew." one of them said, shining his flashlight up at the ceiling.
"Every last one of them. Looks like the wall crawler's been busy."
"Yeah, well, he could've left a note or something. I hate when he does this."
Another officer crouched near one of the crates, holding up one of the droppers with gloved fingers. "You seen this before?"
His partner got a closer look before shaking his head. "Nah, but it doesn't look like Venom. Or anything I've seen before. It looks like something new."
"Great. New poison, same story." the other guy grunted.
An older detective walked up behind the two. "The name going around is Drops. Some kind of designer thing. Kids'll lap it up like candy if it hits the streets."
"Any idea who moves it?" asked an officer.
"Who moves it, we know. But who makes it? Not a god damn clue." said the detective, lighting a cigarette. "Not the biggest fan of the web head, but if he can keep this shit off the streets, I might come around."
Rico didn't hear much after that. All he could think about was that mask. Those white, cold eyes staring at him without saying a word.
~
Above the docks, Spider-Man sat on the edge of an old crane. Rain still came down softly, and his costume was soaked through. He watched as the police loaded the crew into vans.
A throbbing in his throat made him wince, and he tugged his mask up just enough to cough into his hand, muttering hoarsely. "Ugh … my throat … can't even talk. Couldn't even do a single quip tonight. I guess I could've used the Spider-Signal Santa gave me, but being intimidating to remind criminals who's the big kahuna is a nice change of pace."
He pulled his mask back down and looked down at the cops holding the droppers, his lenses narrowing. He reached into his belt and pulled out a dropper he had taken.
"Here I was looking into why Venom had disappeared overnight, but instead I found a new drug." he murmured. "Whoever's pushing this, they're moving too fast; it's like they knew Venom was going to be on the way out."
He turned the dropper in his hands, the red liquid looking almost alive.
"Something this new doesn't spread this fast." he muttered, slipping it back into his belt. "Someone's manufacturing at scale. Someone organized."
He looked down at the flashing lights below, the cops hauling away the last of the crew.
"And the worst part is I've got no idea who." he sighed, his voice rasping from the soreness in his throat.
He stood on the narrow crane beam, his eyes looking toward the city skyline.
"Guess it's time to pay a visit to a few people who would."
He fired a web, swinging into the night.
~~
AN
What do you know, I was able to come up with another interlude chapter.
With the other three interludes, I had an idea of what I wanted to do from the very beginning, but I didn't have anything for any of the holidays during the first half of the year, and no idea I could come up with felt right. Then I was writing the next chapter, considering what I needed to mention that happened during the timeskip, and this chapter came to me, so I decided to make it another interlude.
I thought it was a good way to show another player making their move in a way that's connected to the larger story, and that Peter isn't just reacting to crime/stuff as it happens, but he's also actively trying to prevent it. I also decided to do it from a random thug/goon's POV because I wanted to show that he can be scary, and he's always shown as more intimidating from other people's POV rather than his own; like that one Daredevil comic, which just reinforces that Spider-Man's my GOAT.
Also, I said in a comment that it was going to be a 9-month skip, but it's actually more like 8 months since it will pick up in August (I always think August is the ninth month for whatever reason), though now it's more like 2 months since this chapter is set in June.