"Hehehe…"
Peter Parker—no longer himself but something mutated and primal—tightened his grip on Thompson's shoulders, lifting him even higher into the air. His long claws dug into Thompson's jersey as he growled, "Speak your choice. Now. If I don't like what I hear... I'll tear out your throat."
Thompson was desperate, his face pale and slick with sweat. Trembling, he shouted, "Don't kill me! Let Liz die! That bitch never loved me—she only cared about who I was! I'm not gonna die for her!"
"Mmmm—cough! Cough!"
At that moment, Peter's tail pulled free from Liz's throat. She gasped violently, coughing as tears streamed down her face. But after catching her breath, she screamed, "Thompson, you bastard! You selfish coward! Why don't you die for me, huh?!"
Just like that, the pair turned on each other, both revealing the worst of themselves. The scene was still being recorded by multiple students who hadn't fled. A few even cheered the humiliation, while others—especially the girls—openly cursed at Liz and Thompson as if their masks had finally slipped.
Peter's grin widened in perverse satisfaction. His plan for revenge was unfolding perfectly.
He silenced Liz once more by jamming his tail back into her mouth, then threw Thompson down like a sack of trash.
"Well done. You passed the first test," Peter said, voice dripping with mockery. "Now then, Thompson…"
He pressed a clawed foot down on Flash's back, pinning him into the dirt.
"Crawl. Get on all fours... and bark like a dog."
"What!?" Thompson tried to push himself up, eyes wide with disbelief. "I did what you asked! This wasn't part of the deal!"
"There is no deal," Peter snarled. "That was an order."
He pressed harder with his foot until Thompson's ribs creaked and his chest hit the turf.
....
Bang!
A new figure landed on the roof of the main school building, crouched in the classic Spider-Man pose. White tunic, black leggings, ballet-style indigo shoes—and the interior of her hood glowed faintly pink and purple. One hand braced on the concrete, one knee bent, the other leg extended like a coiled spring.
It was Gwen Stacy—better known on her world as Ghost-Spider.
"A giant lizard... on school grounds?" she muttered, rising to full height. From her rooftop vantage point, her sharp eyes scanned across the sprawling campus.
Then she saw it.
"There!"
Without hesitation, Gwen leapt off the roof, firing a webline with precise aim. Her figure moved like a whisper—agile, graceful, lethal.
Thwip! Thwip!
A few more web blasts propelled her forward in rapid arcs, and within seconds, she was soaring above the football field.
What she saw below made her freeze mid-swing.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!"
Flash Thompson—once the school's alpha jock and relentless Peter Parker bully—was on all fours, barking like a dog at a monstrous, reptilian figure.
What in the world was this? Did Flash think the lizard would be scared off by barking?
Gwen couldn't help but scoff.Jack was right—I should've read more books. Maybe then this scene would make some kind of sense…
But then her eyes caught something far worse.
Suspended in the air by a long green tail, Liz Allan was gagging—Peter's thick, scaly tail jammed into her mouth, muffling her cries.
Gwen narrowed her eyes beneath the mask.
This wasn't just bullying. This was twisted.
...
Gwen shook her head at the sheer absurdity of the moment. Then her eyes landed on Liz Allan, who was entangled in the creature's thick, muscular tail—specifically, the slimy tail tip was stuffed in her mouth as a gag.
The image stirred something strange in Gwen.
Her hand instinctively brushed her own neck, the memory of a certain "game" with Jack surfacing in her mind. The pressure, the helplessness—it was oddly... familiar.
This must be miserable for her, Gwen thought, even as a hint of excitement crept into her thoughts.
Though she hated to admit it, part of her found Liz's humiliation a little satisfying. Guess Liz won't be gloating for a while.
Down below, several students spotted Ghost-Spider's arrival.
"It's her! It's Ghost-Spider!"
"We're saved!"
"Ghost-Spider! Over here! Kick that lizard freak's butt!"
Cheers erupted. For many, her presence meant hope.
Peter, still in his mutated lizard form, narrowed his reptilian eyes and growled.
"Spider-Man?" he muttered, misunderstanding the crowd's excitement. He didn't realize they were cheering for Gwen, not him.
He wasn't ready to take her on. Not now.
So, Peter flung Liz carelessly off his tail—like returning broken merchandise—and tossed her toward Thompson's limp form.
"You see now, Thompson? Who's the 'nobody' now?" he sneered, voice distorted and guttural.
"Woof... woof... You—!"
Thompson, still on all fours, finally recognized Peter's voice. His pupils contracted in shock. "You're that—!"
Before he could finish, Peter's tail whipped around and slammed into Thompson's head, knocking him cold.
He didn't want to kill Flash.
He wanted him to live with the shame, to feel what Peter had felt for years.
Satisfied, Peter turned and began to crawl away at lightning speed—his movement primal, brutal, and eerily efficient.
"Running already?"
Gwen landed lightly on the field just in time to catch sight of his retreating form. She turned her attention to Liz and Thompson, checking for injuries.
Both were unconscious but breathing. No major external wounds.
She let out a small sigh of relief. "No casualties... that's good. I'll call Dad to come deal with this mess."
"Ghost-Spider!"
"You're amazing!"
"You scared him off just by showing up!"
"Can I get a selfie?"
The crowd erupted in cheers again. Apparently, to them, she had just single-handedly saved the school.
"Wow, that was fast," said a voice from behind.
Jessica Drew dropped down onto the football field, slightly out of breath. She was getting better—she could now leap and hover for a few seconds—but she was still a step behind Gwen.
"It wasn't me," Gwen admitted. "The lizard man ran off on his own."
Jessica raised an eyebrow. "Weird. You think he's the same one I fought before?"
Gwen shook her head. "No... this one had yellow eyes. The last one had green."
"So a different one?"
"Just a guess... but yeah."
…
"Three of a kind!"
"Pair of jacks!"
"Full house!"
"Four of a kind!"
As Jack laid out his winning hand like a machine, Bobbi stared at her cards and fell into stunned silence.
"…You're cheating. You have to be cheating," she muttered, utterly defeated.