I sat at my usual corner table in the cafeteria, watching the chaos around me while absentmindedly stabbing a plastic fork into an apple. The hum of voices, laughter, and the occasional bang of a lunch tray fill the room, but it all feels like background noise—muffled, distant. I can't pull my mind away from the gauntlet stored in me. I could feel it in my hand just under my skin, wait for me to call for it.
The Gauntlet of Kor-Vath… my secret, my curse, my blessing. I never expected to find something like that, hidden away in the forgotten shadows of an old building.
A relic with a past so dark it feels like it should belong to a nightmare, not my life. But here it is, now bound to me. Its cold, metallic touch still echoes on my skin. It's not just a piece of metal; it's power, raw and unfiltered.
But with it comes a cost. The gauntlet showed me visions while I slept—glimpses of what it could offer. A dark promise, whispered straight into my mind, a path that leads me to something far greater than the person I am now. Power. Respect.
Freedom from everyone who has ever looked down on me, mocked me, used me as a punching bag. But to access that power, I have to unlock the gauntlet's true potential. I have to summon the Sanguineista dagger, and… and that means taking a life.
My fingers tighten around the fork until I feel the plastic give under my grip. Am I ready for that? Really? I mean, killing someone—that's the line, isn't it? The line that separates everyone else from the monsters. But then again, maybe there are some people who deserve it. Hell, look around. The world isn't exactly full of saints. There are people out there, walking around freely, who have done things so vile, so twisted, that they deserve far worse than death.
I think about the headlines that pop up on my feed, the horror stories you almost become numb to after a while. Rapists who prey on the weak, tearing apart lives with a sickening ease. Pedophiles lurking in the shadows, destroying innocence and leaving scars that never heal. Murderers, people who take lives without a second thought, leaving families broken and hollowed out by grief. People who cause untold suffering and walk away without remorse.
And they don't hesitate. They don't feel guilt or shame. They do what they do because they can, because no one stops them. The system is too broken, too slow, too weak to keep up. I'm also weak, but I'm getting stronger now. If I can use this power to… to take out people like that, wouldn't it be worth it? To make sure they never hurt anyone again?
My eyes drift over to the table at the center of the cafeteria, where a bunch of my classmates are gathered, laughing at some stupid joke I'm too far away to hear. Flash is there, his arm slung around one of the girls, looking as smug and untouchable as ever. For months, he's tormented me, humiliated me. And for what? Just because he can. Just because no one's ever made him pay for it.
I look down at my lunch tray, feeling the anger simmer beneath my skin, the frustration of a hundred small humiliations, a thousand quiet insults. The gauntlet is a promise—a way out. A way up. A way to make things right, even if "right" is starting to look a little darker than I'd ever imagined.
The fork snaps in my hand, and I barely notice. I'd become so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't realize someone had sat down next to me. I look up and find Gwen Stacy's eyes watching me, soft but steady. Her face is full of something I can't quite place—regret? Concern? Maybe a little of both.
"Hey, Peter" she says, her voice low, barely audible over the cafeteria noise.
"Gwen." I nod, my tone guarded. We haven't really spoken in weeks, not since she stepped in to stop Flash from shoving me around. Things have been… weird, to say the least.
She fidgets with her hands, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. "I… I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For that day, with Flash. I thought I was helping, but I think I might've made things worse for you."
There's a strange warmth in my chest hearing her say that. It's been a long time since someone showed they actually cared about how I felt. "You don't need to apologize," I say, surprising myself with how soft my voice sounds. "You did what you thought was right. And maybe… maybe it was. Sometimes things just don't turn out the way we want, even when we're trying to help."
She smiles, a small, sad smile that makes something twist inside me. "Yeah… I get that. It's hard to figure out what's right, you know?"
I nod, feeling a sudden rush of vulnerability, a feeling I thought I'd buried deep down. For a moment, I want to tell her everything—the gauntlet, the ritual, the power it promises. But I know I can't. She wouldn't understand. She'd look at me like… like a freak, like everyone else.
We sit in silence, a comfortable quiet that makes me feel almost normal, just for a moment. It feels good. Better than good. Like I'm almost… happy.
Then Mary Jane calls her name, snapping the moment in two. I see her hesitate, glancing between me and the group of girls waving her over. It not a hard choice, when you and the hottest girls at school are friends.
She stands up, slowly, like she doesn't really want to leave. "Hey, um… I don't know if you'd be interested, but… my band's playing a show on Friday night. Our first gig. I'll be on drums." She gives me a tentative smile, her green eyes bright. "It'd be really cool if you came."
I return her smile, trying to ignore the bitter twist of irony in my chest. Friday night. The night I'll be summoning the Sanguineista dagger. "I wouldn't miss it," I say, lying through my teeth.
She grins, and for a second, I almost feel… normal. Like maybe things could go back to the way they were before everything got so complicated, so dark. "Great! I'll see you there, then."
As she walks away, I can't help but watch her. There's a sway to her step, a subtle curve that catches my eye, and for a split second, my thoughts take a darker, more primal turn.
As she walk away, I focus in on the her ass, the way it prints out in her jeans. It was perfect, round, toned and well proportioned. I can imagine her underwater being the red lacy kinds, the kind you see in those....
I shake it off, feeling a flicker of guilt that fades almost as quickly as it appears. It's not like she'd ever be interested in someone like me. Not really. Not when she has friends, a life, a future… things I've never really had.
I watch her join her friends, laughing, light and carefree in a way that feels foreign to me now. The way she looked at me, the way she smiled… maybe in another life, things could've been different between us. But that's not the life I live. Not anymore.
My gaze shifts back to Flash, still sitting across the room, still laughing, still oblivious to the storm building in my chest. The anger simmers again, darker, sharper. Flash is exactly the kind of person who deserves to be taught a lesson, who deserves to feel the weight of the consequences he's been dodging his entire life.
A plan starts to form in my mind, slow and sinister, like a shadow creeping across the floor. If I need a life to power the gauntlet and summon the dagger, it doesn't have to be a random stranger. It doesn't have to be innocent. There are people who deserve what's coming to them, people who have earned it in spades.
And then I glance back at Gwen and her friends. A thought blossoms in my mind, dark and twisted, but perfect in its simplicity. Flash had been sniffing around Gwen, pestering her, trying to pull her into his orbit like he does with everyone else. That only changed after she stood up for me.
What if… what if I could use that against him? What if I could use Gwen as bait? I can still see the subtle glance he gives her in class. He still wants her, why wouldn't he.
The idea settles in my mind, taking root, growing stronger with every passing second. I'll lead Flash into a trap, make him think he's got some kind of chance with her. And then, when he's alone, when he's vulnerable… I'll do what needs to be done.
I feel the gauntlet's weight even though it's out of sight, tucked away in my bag. The power it promises pulses through me, a steady drumbeat in the back of my mind. I can almost hear it whispering, encouraging, pushing me forward. This is what it takes. This is the price of power. And I'm willing to pay it.