Dr. Vasquez blinked, her professional smile twitching just slightly. She followed MJ's gaze, counting quickly. A beat passed. Then another.
Her smile returned, brittle around the edges. "Ah. Well. The scientists must be working with that one. These specimens are cycled in and out regularly for testing. Nothing to worry about."
Nothing to worry about? My skin prickled.
I raised my hand before my common sense could stop me. "Question."
"Yes, Mr…?"
"Parker," I said quickly. My throat felt dry. "Peter Parker. I just… how dangerous are these spiders? I mean, hypothetically. What would happen if one of them bit someone?"
Some of the students snickered behind me, but I didn't care. The question hung in the air like smoke.
Dr. Vasquez laughed lightly, too lightly. "Well, Mr. Parker, if one of these specimens were to bite a human, the results could be… catastrophic. Their venom levels are amplified. Lethal doses. One bite could drop an elephant."
The room chuckled nervously.
I didn't.
"Right," I said slowly, forcing my voice to stay steady. "So if one's missing… shouldn't we, I don't know, make sure it isn't crawling around somewhere in this massive building?"
For just a moment, her eyes widened. Just for a moment. Then she smoothed it over with another brittle smile. "Rest assured, Mr. Parker, the containment protocols here at Oscorp are flawless. Our specimens cannot escape. Now, let's continue, shall we?"
She turned briskly, gesturing toward the next wing. Her voice carried, bright and rehearsed, explaining how the tour would soon conclude before lunch, after which we'd be split into groups to shadow Oscorp scientists.
But all I could think was: fifteen.
The missing one wasn't gone. It was hiding. Watching. Waiting.
And God help me, I had a sinking feeling I knew who it was waiting for.
Lunch at Oscorp was… lunch. Sterile trays, tasteless food, and the constant low buzz of voices. I avoided Flash like the plague, ducking behind MJ and Harry whenever I could. He still managed to send me daggers with his eyes from across the cafeteria. If glares could kill, I'd have been a chalk outline by dessert.
The missing spider haunted me. My hands shook when I picked up my fork. My thoughts circled endlessly. Fifteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Fourteen.
By the time the tour guide herded us back together, my nerves were stretched like violin strings.
"Alright, students," Dr. Vasquez said, clipboard in hand. "We'll be splitting you into groups of four. Each group will be paired with one of Oscorp's leading scientists for hands-on demonstrations."
I tried not to groan. Flash and his cronies were already nudging each other, no doubt planning how best to make my life miserable.
When Dr. Vasquez began reading names, I braced myself.
"Peter Parker. Mary Jane Watson. Flash Thompson. Cindy Moon."
Perfect. Just perfect.
And then—"You'll be paired with Dr. Curtis Connors."
The one-armed scientist stepped forward. His presence was striking—tall, lean, with eyes that burned with both brilliance and something else. Something hungrier. He smiled at us, warm but distracted, as though his mind was half in another world.
"Pleasure to meet you all," Dr. Connors said. His voice carried an undercurrent of energy, passion buried beneath professionalism. "We'll be focusing on arachnid genetics today. Spiders are remarkable creatures, and Oscorp is leading the charge in unlocking their secrets."
My heart pounded. Of course it's spiders. Of course.
We donned lab coats, goggles, and thick gloves. The sterile smell of disinfectant stung my nose as Connors led us into the genetics wing. Rows of equipment hummed around us. Microscopes. Radiological shields. Sequencing tech I could barely wrap my head around.
And then—the enclosures.
We returned to the spider habitat, only now Connors led us right inside. I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to flinch as dozens of enhanced arachnids skittered in their glass cells.
It was then that I saw it.
Perched on a smooth pillar wall, as though it had been there the whole time, was the missing spider.
Number Fifteen.
My breath hitched.
Dr. Connors moved fast, snatching a containment tube and capturing it with practiced ease. He turned, his eyes alight with interest. "Well, well. Look who decided to show themselves."
The spider sat calmly inside, its long legs splayed, its body shimmering a striking, unnatural blue.
"This," Connors said, lifting the tube for us to see, "is Poecilotheria metallica, the peacock parachute spider. The only blue species of its genus. Quite rare. And one of the fifteen chosen for our genome project."
He glanced at me. "Who'd like to hold it?"
Silence. Even Flash took a cautious step back. Cindy shook her head. MJ's lips pressed thin.
My hand lifted before I could stop it.
"Me," I said.
Connors raised an eyebrow, then smiled faintly. "Name?"
"Peter. Peter Parker."
"Well, Peter Parker," he said, carefully transferring the spider into my gloved hand, "hold steady. Support its body. Don't make sudden movements."
I froze, holding my breath as the weight settled against my palm.
The spider was… breathtaking. Its blue shimmer caught the light like living sapphire. Its legs moved delicately, precisely, each step purposeful.
And then it looked at me.
Eight eyes, unblinking. Ancient. Knowing.
My stomach flipped. My skin prickled. I knew. This was it. This was the moment.
The spider twitched. And before anyone could react, it scurried up my arm.
"Careful!" Connors barked, reaching, but it was too fast.
It darted up my sleeve, across my shoulder, and before I could shake it free—
It sank its fangs into my neck.
The world exploded.
Fire. Pure fire ripped through me, molten and violent, flooding my veins.
I screamed, dropping to my knees. My gloves tore against the floor as I clawed at my neck. The venom spread like liquid lightning, searing, burning, shredding me from the inside out.
"Parker!" Connors shouted, but his voice was a thousand miles away.
My vision swam. The sterile lab fractured into kaleidoscopic shards. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst. Every muscle spasmed, jerking violently.
Make it stop. Make it stop.
I screamed again, hoarse and broken, as my body convulsed. Blood roared in my ears. My skull felt like it was splitting open.
The venom wasn't just poison—it was pressure. Force. A presence. Something ancient and alien pushing into my mind, clawing at my thoughts, demanding surrender.
Die, it whispered. Break. Shatter.
"No!" I choked, my voice raw. "I won't—I won't—"
I slammed my fists against the floor, desperate to anchor myself. My body twisted, wracked with spasms. Heat consumed me. My bones felt like they were being remade in molten steel.
I wanted death. God help me, I wanted it. But I couldn't. I couldn't give in.
I had to survive.
I had to earn it.
Blood filled my mouth as I bit down on a scream. My vision flickered, tunneling into black. Through the haze, I saw white coats rushing in—paramedics, their mouths moving, shouting things I couldn't hear.
Hands pressed against me. Needles pierced my arm. Cold fluids rushed into my veins.
But nothing stopped the fire.
I gasped, sucking air like a drowning man. My body shook, skin slick with sweat. My heart thundered so hard I thought it would crack my ribs.
And then—darkness pressed in.
My eyelids sank. My body collapsed.
But even as I fell into black, one thought burned through the agony.
Survive. Survive. Survive.
🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷
I don't know how long I was gone.
Minutes? Hours? Days?
All I know is that I gasped awake.
The sound was violent, ragged—like I'd been underwater for too long and finally broke the surface. My lungs seized before flooding with air, and my body jerked upright on instinct. For one terrifying moment, I thought the fire was back, that the venom was going to rip me apart all over again.
But it didn't.
It was gone.
The sterile white ceiling swam into focus above me, unfamiliar. My head turned slowly, groggy. To my left, machines beeped softly, green lines tracing my heartbeat. To my right, a curtain separated my bed from another empty space.
I was in a hospital room.
And I felt… fine. Better than fine, actually.
I pushed the blanket off and swung my legs over the bed. The tile floor was cool under my bare feet. My movements felt strange—not clumsy, not weak, but fluid. Balanced. Like I'd been carrying around a hundred pounds of invisible weight my whole life, and suddenly it had been lifted.
I stood.
And froze.
I was taller.
No, not just taller—my whole body felt… stretched. Different. My eyes darted to the metal IV pole beside me, using it as a height reference. I was definitely taller than I'd been. My head swam with the realization.
"What the hell…" I muttered under my breath.
My throat was dry, my voice deeper. Not a lot, but enough that I noticed.
I stumbled forward, clutching the gown closed at the back as I left the room. I needed… something. Answers. A mirror. Anything.
I walked down the hall, it being quite empty as my eyes darted across the hall as it landed at the bathroom a few feet down as I headed toward it.
The moment the sterile bathroom smell hit me, my stomach lurched.
I barely made it to the toilet before vomiting. Acid burned my throat, hot and bitter, as everything I'd eaten in the past day decided to vacate my system in one violent rush. My body convulsed once, twice, until I was coughing dry heaves.
"God…" I rasped, leaning against the stall wall.
I flushed, stumbling to the sink. My reflection waited for me.
I almost didn't want to look.
But I did.
The face staring back at me was mine… and not mine.
My skin looked clearer, healthier. My jaw was sharper. My cheekbones more defined. Even my hair—messy from sleep—had this natural bounce to it, like some shampoo commercial. My eyes looked brighter, almost glowing under the fluorescent lights.
But that wasn't the worst part.
My gaze dropped.
With trembling hands, I untied the back of the hospital gown and pulled it open.
I froze.
Gone was the short, scrawny, awkward body I'd inhabited for a mere few hours. It was a short time that I did not miss, and this only meant that I had actually managed to survive the bite. And I have to say god damn.
I was far taller than before—easily six feet. Lean. Muscular. Like a runner crossed with a gymnast. My arms were toned, veins faintly visible beneath smooth skin. My chest and shoulders were broader, defined. My legs had power in them, coiled and waiting.
I grinned, wide and unrestrained.
"This… this is insane," I whispered.
I flexed experimentally. My bicep bulged—not like a bodybuilder, but enough to look… good. Athletic. Strong.
For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like prey.
I felt like a predator.
But before the grin could settle, something strange happened.
The hospital gown in my hand refused to fall.
I tugged lightly. It stretched like it was glued to me.
"What the—"
Panic shot through me. I yanked harder, but the fabric clung stubbornly to my palm. Sweat prickled the back of my neck.
"Let go. Let go, let go, let go!"
I pulled and shook my hand like a lunatic. Nothing. My heart raced, panic clawing at my chest.
"Alright, I got to relax." I muttered. My breaths came fast, shallow. I forced myself to slow them down.
Inhale. Exhale.
Got to be in the moment, focus and relax my body.
I closed my eyes. My shoulders dropped.
The gown slipped from my hand, falling silently to the floor.
I stared. My chest heaved.
"Holy…" I whispered, bending down to pick it up.
But the moment my fingers reached, something else happened.
Shink.
A sound, sharp and metallic, sliced the silence.
My nails had extended. No, not nails—talons. Curved, sharp, glinting under the bathroom light.
I froze, wide-eyed.
"What the heck…"
I flexed my hand instinctively, and the talons retracted, shrinking back into normal nails. My pulse raced. I flexed again. The talons extended, razor-sharp. Relax—back to normal.
Flex. Extend.
Relax. Retract.
I laughed, a disbelieving, breathless sound. "Okay… that's actually cool."
I picked up the gown carefully this time, slipping it back on. My reflection stared back, a stranger I almost didn't recognize.
"Alright, Peter Parker. This is your new life… so you better become the most powerful superhero in this world, it is time to become the Anchor Point of this world."