guys, gals and non-binary pals, sit back and grab you're popcorn or whatever the hell you want because this is gonna be a bumpy ride

TW: gore and lots of death. if you have an uneasy stomach, please refrain from reading

It had been three days when Peter had started to roam around the deserted city of Brooklyn, New York. Buildings had been burnt down and were crumbling, and the sudden wave of exhaustible heat was deathly. The air was toxic, filled with the stench of nuclear waste and gunpowder- it was unbreathable.

It may have only been three days since the apocalypse, but Peter had already changed. He had needed to adapt to the new circumstances he was now living under. His usual outfits needed to go away to match with the new temperatures he wasn't used to, he had to always pay attention incase an infected attacked him, he had to be ready.

His outfit get up was made up of black military pants he found in an abandoned store, a loose gaming tank top that was hidden away in his old closet at the apartment, combat boots he found in Steve Rogers' closet at the Tower, and a bandana he found in Clint Barton's wardrobe, as well as a mask around the bottom half of his face so he didn't breathe in the toxic fumes. He always had a jacket tied around his waste incase it started to rain or he injured himself, using it to wrap the wound tightly.

There was no sign of his friends, MJ and Ned, and Peter was worrying himself to death. He hadn't run into any healthy person yet, and it was scaring him. And you know what's even scarier? Things would constantly gli-xbsiusbx-tch out, like buildings or the infected- even clouds.

He could've swore he saw a-

e r r o r
barrier reached
rebooting
this may take a while...

error fixed
you will be ready to continue on in just a moment

Peter gritted his teeth as he used his muscles to lift a five ton bus off of a poor, unlucky civilian who had died in an accident. He searched the person for anything valuable, a small piece of paper tucked away in their jacket catching his eye. With shaky fingers, he pulled it out a read it over.

whoever fInds This:

pleaSe, help us. they Are coming. they won't stop until they Get what they want. people Are dying. you are our only hope at this point. they're Maniacs. please, savE us, save yourself, save the world before it's too late. keep your eyes up, don't trust anyone. you never know what they could do.

-Everest Octain

Peter furrowed his eyebrows as he clutched the note in his hands. He could easily see the secret message, as it was something he had done countless times before himself. But what did it mean?

Stuffing the paper in his back pocket, Peter continued on his way after making sure he had not overlooked anything on the strange person. He wrinkled his nose as he passed his old school, the stench of blood and garbage filling his nostrils. But just as he was about to walk away, his mind tangled and a sound was heard in the distance, coming from inside Midtown.

Hesitating before committing, Peter began to sprint towards the school building, the sound of talking growing louder and louder. There had to be at least fifty or more people inside the structure. He shoved the doors open with little force before speed-walking through the destroyed halls, following the sounds of the voices.

"Did you hear that?" a voice asked from inside a classroom. A familiar voice responded, sending chills down Peter's spine.

"Grab the knife, I'll use the gun. Everyone else, get behind the desks and get ready to bail."

The door slowly creaked open, making Peter nearly choke on his own saliva. Ned fucking Leeds stood there, gun loaded as he peered from inside the classroom.

"Ned?" Peter sad slowly, bringing himself into the light. The slightly chubbier boy gasped and dropped the weapon in his hand, shock taking over him.

"Peter?" he breathed as he began to advance towards his friend. Peter could only nod as the two shared a quick embrace before parting, Ned leading the other teen into the classroom.

All of his classmates were in there, surprised to see their acquaintance. Was this real life?

Peter coughed a little bit, spitting blood into the floor. He looked around and studied everyone's face. Shock, confusion, adoration, and awe were all written on their features as they stated back.

"Parker?" Flash said quietly, tilting his head. "How are you alive? We heard about your aunt, so we just figured you were dead!"

Peter scoffed, running a hand threw his sweaty chestnut curls-it felt good to be in the shade.

"I jumped out of the window of the apartment and climbed down the fire escape," he explained, dread beginning to fill his stomach. "Um... M-Mr. Stark is dead..."

Ned gasped in shock, covering his mouth with his hand. "You're lying," he whispered. "What happened?"

"I don't know, I got to the to-"

e r r o r
barrier limit reached
restarting at latest checkpoint
please stand by as we reload

reloaded
materializing

Peter furrowed his eyebrows as he clutched the note in his hands. He could easily see the secret message, as it was something he had done countless times before himself. But what did it mean?

Stuffing the paper in his back pocket, Peter continued on his way after making sure he had not overlooked anything on the strange person. He wrinkled his nose as he passed his old school, the stench of blood and garbage filling his nostrils. He listened for a moment but heard nothing, so decided to continue on his way.

After ten minutes of walking, he arrived at one of the most horrific places he would ever go to in his life.

Bodies upon bodies were stacked in towers, some lit on fire, the scent of burning flesh overpowering everything. Blood pools were scatted around, still growing from the never-ending adding of bodies. The infected roamed around freely, snacking on whoever and whatever they wanted, like a sample day at HyVee.

Some of them were laughing maniacally at captured people who were still alive, being burned at the stake like a pig being roasted above a fire at a campsite.

Peter shook in fright as he hid behind a pile of rubble, peering his brown eyes over. His knuckles turned white from clutching the metal so tightly, his knees weak and ready to give out. A slight squeak sounded in the back of his throat, and Peter froze, eyes widening.

An infected being turned around, making eye contact with the teen boy, a grin spreading across its malled and scratched face. It began to limp/run towards Peter, arms out and ready to grab him.

Peter nearly screamed but held it in as he pushed himself up and began sprinting the other way, making attention of himself. He could hear more and more infected people running after him, but he didn't have time to look back. Tears clouded his vision as he ran, jumping over rubble and debris.

He tripped on an old wrench, making him tumble to the ground. He cried out in pain as his arm got caught on a rusted hook, slashing his skin open. An infected pounced on top of him, and Peter struggled to hold it at arms length. He let out a strangled sob as it snapped at him, trying to eat his face.

He pushed the infected off of him and got up, clutching his bloodied arm to his chest, his tank top beginning to soak up blood. Peter whipped his head around and swiftly grabbed a wrench, clutching it in his hand.

The infected ran at him again, but this time Peter was ready. He swung the wrench at its face, sticking it right in its eye. The infected howled in pain, hands flying to the wrench, attempting to pull it out. Peter took this as his chance to run, stumbling over his feet for a few seconds before finally being able to get away.

He ran and ran until his legs gave out, making him fall to his knees behind a chunk of rubble. He greedily took in deep breaths through his mask. Dirt and sand caked his hair and his exposed skin, but he didn't care. The infected were gone for now, and that's all that mattered.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, his arm stung like a bitch. He looked down to see the red liquid pouring steadily from the wound-thank god he got that tetanus shot a few months back. Peter undid the jacket from around his waist, tying it tightly around the exposed wound. He had to get back to the tower to clean it before it got infected.

With an exasperated sigh, Peter forced himself onto his aching feet and began to walk to the tower, struggling to breath correctly with each step. It was going to take forever to get there.

Peter stopped in the middle of the road as a pain shot through his skull behind his eyes. He blinked a few times, only to see green coding swim across. He cried out in pain as he fell to his knees, fingers curling around loose dirt.

-

"Pull him out, please. I'm begging you."

"You're hurting him, dammit!"

"We have to wait it out. He's corrupted the entire thing. His mind is an unknown entity to us. We can't do anything."

"This was your idea in the first place, Rogers. Fucking pull him out!"

"I can't! He's broken everything! We have to wait until its over!"

-

"Dammit! Gah, what th-einzujuhef-e hell's happe-xxxxxx1e8hn+w8eh-ning?" Peter cried out, clutching his head with his good arm. It felt like millions of tiny little needles were being poked through his face and eyes, repeatedly stabbing him.

Thirty minutes later, everything subdued to a calm scene, tiring Peter more and more as each second passed. The world was slowly crumbling away into a black nothingness-literally.

Soon, he was floating in oblivion, unable to speak or move. He just closed his eyes, willing himself to die.

The silence was deafening.

That is, until voices could be heard from around him. Peter opened his eyes, blinded by a bright white light that was strewn above him. He could see the Avengers standing over him. Their faces showed concern and worry for him-yet why?

"Peter, are you alright?" Bruce Banner asked, pressing a hand to the teen's forehead. The boy gave a slight nod before sitting up, now noticing the wires connected to his body.

"How... how did I get here? How are you all alive?" he asked, voice shaky. Tony looked remorseful.

"Peter, kiddo. It was all a simulation. None of it was real." he explained simply. "We didn't know it was going to be so vivid and cruel."

Peter only shook his head before laying back down, drifting off to a deep sleep.

It wasn't real...

It'll never be real...

ârę ÿøū śürę åbøūt thât, pëtęr¿
-

THE END

hhahahaha i'm evil :)))))