Spider-Man: Web of Shadows

Chapter 62: The Harbinger's Mark

Peter stood alone in the dark, still bound by the invisible tendrils that held him in place. His heart pounded in his chest, and his breath came in short, shallow gasps as he tried to push against the restraints. But the dark energy wrapping around him felt like nothing he'd encountered before. It wasn't a typical symbiote's influence. This felt… alien. Otherworldly.

What the hell just happened? Peter thought, his mind racing.

The weight of the words the creature had spoken echoed in his head, each one carrying more gravity than the last: There are worse things than death. I am the harbinger.

Who was this new enemy, and what did they mean by "the harbinger"? Peter couldn't stop thinking about it. It was as if this wasn't just some random villain—it was part of something far bigger, a deeper plan that was slowly beginning to unfold. He could feel it, deep in his bones.

The binds around him suddenly loosened, and Peter stumbled forward, finally able to move. He wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to regain his composure, but his body still shook from the encounter. He quickly shot webs to the nearest building, swinging himself to higher ground where he could regain his bearings.

As he landed on a rooftop, the calm of the city below did little to soothe his racing thoughts. He glanced back over his shoulder toward the spot where the mysterious figure had disappeared, his mind still reeling from the strange, cryptic encounter.

Who are you? Peter wondered again. He was used to facing villains—he knew how they operated, how they thought. But this… this felt different. The creature wasn't interested in power for power's sake. No, it wanted something deeper. Something more dangerous. And the worst part? Peter had no idea what that was.

The Next Day…

The sunlight streamed through the blinds of Peter's bedroom as he sat on his bed, staring at his phone. MJ's message from last night was still open on the screen, and he stared at it without really seeing it. He hadn't replied yet, and part of him wondered if he was ever going to be able to, not with all the chaos swirling around him.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and sighed. Even on the good days, when he wasn't Spider-Man, it felt like there was no escape. Everything was always leading back to danger.

No. I can't think like that. I need to focus on something normal for once.

Peter had made a promise to himself, and to MJ, that today would be different. He put the phone down and grabbed his backpack, heading out of the apartment. He needed to get some semblance of normalcy back in his life.

At Midtown High…

Peter walked through the halls of Midtown High, trying his best to act like any other high school student. But even here, he couldn't escape the weight of his responsibilities. As he passed by his friends, he felt their eyes on him—some curious, some concerned, but none of them knew the truth. None of them knew what he'd just faced. What he had to face every day.

Harry caught up with him in the hallway, his usual confident stride replaced by a slight unease. He looked like he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, his eyes tired and distant.

"Peter," Harry said, voice low. "I'm really starting to feel like I'm being watched. And I don't mean like the usual 'someone's following me' kind of feeling. It's… it's different."

Peter tensed, instinctively glancing around the hallway to see if anyone was paying attention. "What do you mean? Like… someone's after you?"

"I don't know," Harry said, shaking his head. "It's like I'm not just in the dark anymore. Someone's got their eyes on me—and I don't know if it's because of my father's legacy or something else entirely."

Peter's stomach twisted. He'd been wondering whether Norman Osborn's shadow would ever stop looming over Harry. Now it seemed like it was getting worse, as if something—or someone—was pulling strings in the background.

Before Peter could respond, their conversation was interrupted by the bell ringing, signaling the start of class. Harry gave him a quick nod, though there was a palpable tension in his eyes. Peter wasn't sure what to say. There were so many things going on that it felt like the world was starting to close in on them both.

Later That Night…

That evening, Peter's patrol took him to the outskirts of the city. There was a strange chill in the air, and the streets seemed unusually quiet. The hustle and bustle of New York at night was missing. The city that never slept was oddly still.

As he swung through the air, his spider-sense began to tingle—nothing major, just a slight buzz. But it was enough to make him pause. He landed on a rooftop and scanned the area, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Suddenly, a low growl echoed from the darkness. Peter's senses sharpened, and he turned to face the source of the sound. Out of the shadows stepped the same dark figure he had fought the night before—the one with the tendrils, the one with the cryptic warnings.

"You again," Peter muttered under his breath. His fists clenched in frustration. "I thought we were done here."

The figure stepped forward, the red glow in its eyes intensifying. "You are mistaken, Spider-Man. This is only the beginning. You can't outrun your fate." It raised its hand, and tendrils shot toward Peter once again, faster than ever before.

Peter dodged, flipping out of the way just in time, but the figure's attack was relentless. The air seemed to crackle with dark energy as the tendrils whipped and lashed, striking at Peter with precision.

"Who are you?!" Peter demanded as he swung away, trying to keep his distance. "Tell me what you want!"

The creature laughed, the sound echoing like a chorus of distorted voices. "I've already told you, Spider-Man. I am the harbinger. And you—" It paused for dramatic effect. "You are simply a tool to bring about the end."

Peter's heart raced. This wasn't just some random villain looking for a fight—it was something far more dangerous. This was about something bigger, something that threatened everything.

Before Peter could react, the creature lunged, wrapping one of its tendrils around Peter's neck, lifting him off the ground. His air supply was cut off, and he struggled against the grip. His spider-sense was screaming at him, but his vision was starting to blur as the dark energy drained him.

But even in the face of overwhelming power, Peter's will remained unbroken. With a desperate, final effort, he fired a web at the creature's head, blasting it with a stream of webbing that momentarily obscured its vision. That was enough for Peter to break free.

He fell to the ground, gasping for air, his chest heaving as he struggled to his feet. The creature stood there, unbothered, its eyes glowing brighter than ever.

"Next time, Spider-Man," it said, its voice dripping with malice, "there will be no escape."

With that, the figure melted back into the shadows, leaving Peter on the rooftop, alone, with only his thoughts and the growing weight of the coming storm.

End of Chapter 62