Chapter 77: Echoes of the Past
The city had a way of hiding its secrets, wrapping them in shadows and waiting for the right moment to reveal them. Peter Parker was all too familiar with that—he had spent countless nights swinging through these streets, uncovering one mystery after another. But there was something about tonight that felt different. The air felt heavier, charged with an energy that wasn't quite right.
He sat on the rooftop of an old building, gazing out at the glowing lights of the city below, his mind racing. The calm from the conversation with MJ and Aunt May had faded, replaced with the nagging feeling that something was coming. He couldn't shake the sensation that he was being watched, that something was just beyond his reach, waiting to strike.
Peter turned his head, eyes narrowing as a small noise broke through the otherwise still night—a faint scratching, a soft flutter of wings. His spider-sense tingled ever so slightly, an instinctive warning, though not yet urgent. His body tensed, but he didn't move. He'd learned not to react to every little twitch of his senses. Not everything was a threat.
And then he saw it— a figure perched on the edge of a nearby building. The silhouette was dark, its features obscured in the shadows. But there was no mistaking the presence. It was familiar, too familiar. Peter's heart skipped a beat.
He knew that figure.
"You're not a friend," Peter muttered under his breath, his instincts screaming at him to be on alert. The last time he had seen that figure, things had gotten complicated. Very complicated.
The figure stepped forward, its eyes glowing eerily in the dim light. The familiar, haunting eyes of… Venom.
"Spider-Man," the voice rasped, low and guttural. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Peter didn't flinch, but his pulse quickened. The last time he had encountered Venom, it had been a battle for survival—Venom, Eddie Brock, had been consumed by hatred, by a dark force that sought to destroy everything Peter cared about. But Peter hadn't killed him. He had let Eddie go, hoping that somewhere inside, the man could find redemption. Clearly, that had been a mistake.
"What do you want, Brock?" Peter asked, his voice steady but carrying the weight of the years they had spent as enemies. "I thought we were done with this."
Venom's mouth stretched into a twisted grin, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "Done? No, Spider-Man. We are never done." The symbiote's voice echoed in Peter's mind, a whisper of malice. "You never understood, did you? You think this is just about revenge? About you? No. This is about the bond we share. We are two halves of a whole, Spider-Man. And that bond is unbreakable."
Peter clenched his fists. "I've never wanted to be your 'half.' I've always been a whole person. You're the one who's broken."
Venom's grin only widened, but there was something different about him this time. Peter couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he sensed it. Something had changed. Eddie was different. The venomous hatred that had driven their past encounters was still there, but now there was something else—an underlying tension, a deep sense of anguish.
"You really think you know me, Spider-Man?" Venom's voice softened, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "You never did. I wasn't the monster. I was only trying to survive. But the world you made—this world—won't let me survive. And neither will you."
Peter's heart sank. "Eddie, this isn't you. You don't have to do this. We've been down this road before."
"NO," Venom roared, his voice cracking like thunder. "You were never supposed to be the hero! You never earned it. And now… you've taken everything from me. I'm going to make sure you feel it, too. The same way I felt it."
Peter's mind raced as Venom's words rang in his ears. Something was wrong. This wasn't just about Eddie's hatred of Spider-Man. There was something deeper at play, something that Peter couldn't yet understand.
Before he could react, Venom lunged, his monstrous form barreling toward Peter with terrifying speed. Spider-Man barely had time to respond. His webs shot out, but Venom was too fast, too strong, and he easily ripped through the strands.
With a sickening thud, Venom crashed into Peter, sending him sprawling onto the rooftop. Pain shot through his body as the force of the impact left him winded. Before Peter could recover, Venom was already on top of him, pinning him down with the full weight of the symbiote.
"You don't know what you're dealing with," Venom hissed, his face hovering inches from Peter's. "The bond between us isn't just some accident. It was fate. And you—you took it from me. Now it's time for you to pay."
Peter grunted, struggling to push Venom off, but the symbiote's strength was overwhelming. Every move he made seemed to be countered with ease. He could feel the weight of the symbiote pressing down on him, smothering him with its malevolent energy.
"You're wrong, Eddie," Peter panted. "This is about your choices. You've been given a second chance, and you've wasted it."
Venom's eyes flashed with rage. "Don't lecture me, Spider-Man. You don't understand what it's like to be discarded, to be treated like nothing. I've had nothing but rejection. From the moment I bonded with you, I was nothing but a tool. And now—now you'll know how it feels."
The symbiote's tendrils shot out, wrapping around Peter's arms and legs, pulling him tighter. Peter's heart pounded as he tried to free himself. His spider-sense flared in overdrive, but he couldn't find a way to escape the grasp of Venom.
Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a bright light suddenly cut through the darkness. A figure appeared in the distance, soaring toward them with blinding speed.
"What the hell—?" Peter muttered, confused.
The figure was clad in black, a silhouette of shadows and light. As the figure grew closer, Peter could make out the distinct shape of wings—a large, leathery spread of dark appendages.
"No way," Peter gasped. "This is… This is something else."
The figure landed between Peter and Venom with a force that shook the rooftop, creating a shockwave that pushed Venom back, releasing Peter from the symbiote's grip. Peter stumbled to his feet, disoriented and still trying to recover.
"You should leave him alone, Brock," the new figure growled, its voice a deep, gravelly rumble.
Venom turned, snarling as he assessed the new threat. "Who… who dares to interfere?"
The figure stepped forward, its wings unfurling as it raised its head. A jagged mask obscured its face, and the rest of its body was clad in sleek, dark armor. "I'm called The Vulture, and you've been hunting the wrong prey."
Peter's eyes widened in disbelief. He knew the Vulture was a villain—one of his many enemies—but this was not the Vulture he had encountered before. This was something else, something far more dangerous.
Venom snarled, showing no sign of retreating. "Another fool who thinks they can stop me?"
The Vulture's wings flared again, and with a swift motion, he lunged at Venom, engaging in a battle of pure raw force. Peter stood back, watching in disbelief. This was the last thing he had expected tonight—two powerful enemies, clashing in a battle for supremacy. And in the middle of it all, Peter Parker found himself at a crossroads once more.
What had he gotten himself into?
End of Chapter 77