Capítulo 4: 4. Shadows of History
I could feel Flash's eyes burning into the back of my head before I even heard his footsteps. It was always the same routine — the shoving, the taunts, and then the smirks as he walked away, leaving me humiliated and bruised. But the day after everything that had happened at Oscorp and how Tony had dismissed me, something inside me had changed. I couldn't keep letting Flash walk all over me.
The hallways buzzed with students heading to class, but I felt that familiar tightening in my chest as Flash closed in behind me. I took a steadying breath, forcing myself to keep moving forward, my fists clenched tightly at my sides.
"Hey, Nerd!" Flash's voice echoed down the hallway, casual and mocking as he approached. I turned, not saying a word, hoping he'd take the hint and leave me alone.
But he didn't. Flash chuckled, folding his arms as he looked me up and down. "So, you just gonna ignore me now, huh?"
I stood my ground, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm done doing your homework, Flash."
The hallway went quiet. A few students stopped to watch, clearly curious to see what was going to happen. Flash's smirk faded, replaced by a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"What the fuck, did you just say, Parker?" he asked, his voice low, as he took a step closer.
"You heard me," I said, forcing myself to hold his gaze. "Do your own work."
Flash's eyes narrowed. Before I could react, his hand was on my shoulder, shoving me hard against the lockers. Pain jolted through me, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to show weakness. "Listen, nerd," Flash sneered, his face inches from mine. "You're gonna do what I say. You are my slave. If you think you have a say in this, thing gain. Now you better have my assignment or—"
"Or what?"
The voice cut through the tension like a knife, and suddenly Flash wasn't looking at me anymore. Gwen Stacy was standing there, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on Flash with a look I'd never seen before. She was…angry.
Flash hesitated, clearly caught off guard. "Stay out of this, Gwen. This is between me and Parker."
Gwen stepped forward, unfazed, her gaze steely. "How about you get your hands off him before I make you?"
Flash laughed, glancing around at the students who were now openly watching. "What, you gonna fight me, Gwen?"
Gwen didn't flinch. "If that's what it takes."
Flash scoffed, but I could see the hint of uncertainty in his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably. It was no secret who Gwen'sdad was; everyone knew it. But Flash was stubborn, and he wasn't about to let her challenge him like this without a response. He took a step forward, towering over her.
In a blink, Gwen grabbed Flash by his collar, yanking him closer, her grip firm and unyielding. "You think you're tough because you pick on people weaker than you?" she said, her voice cold and steady. "Why don't you try someone who can actually fight back?"
Flash, momentarily stunned, reached up, trying to pull her hand away, but Gwen twisted his wrist, forcing his arm behind his back. Flash winced, struggling to break free, but Gwen's grip was like iron. What everyone didn't know, was that Gwen had been taking karate and other martial arts since she was in kindergarten.
"Let me go!" Flash's voice wavered as he tried to look unaffected, but the pain was evident on his face.
"Only if you agree to leave Peter alone," Gwen said, her voice low. "If I hear you so much as look at him the wrong way, we're going to have another talk. Got it?"
Flash swallowed hard, glancing around at the crowd that had gathered. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he finally muttered, "Fine…just let me go."
"Say it," Gwen demanded, tightening her grip.
Flash grimaced. "Fine! I'll leave him alone, alright?"
Gwen released him, and Flash stumbled back, rubbing his wrist and glaring at her with a mix of anger and humiliation. " Your luck I don't hit women, Gwen." He said as he shoved his way through the crowd, fillowed by his entourage and disappeared around the corner.
The hallway was silent. I stood there, frozen, staring at Gwen, my mind reeling. She'd just stood up for me — she'd actually defended me against Flash. But instead of feeling grateful, I felt…small. Pathetic. I'd just let her fight my battle for me.
Gwen turned to me, her expression softening. "Are you okay, Peter?"
I forced a nod, barely able to look her in the eye. "Yeah…thanks, Gwen."
She hesitated, as if she wanted to say more, but then she nodded and walked away, leaving me standing there, surrounded by whispers and stares. My cheeks burned with shame, the humiliation twisting in my stomach. She'd saved me, and I hadn't even lifted a finger to stop Flash myself. All I could think about was how helpless I'd looked, how everyone now saw me as the kid who couldn't even stand up for himself.
---
When I got home that evening, the humiliation still hung over me like a dark cloud. I walked into the kitchen, hoping to slip up to my room unnoticed, but Bennett and Betty were both there, snickering to each other as they looked up at me.
"Look who finally made it home," Michael drawled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. "Heard you needed your girlfriend to save you at school today, Parker."
My face burned. "She's not my girlfriend."
"Oh, right, you'd wish she was your girl. She's just the girl who had to fight your battles for you because you're too much of a coward," he continued, smirking. Betty, sitting at the table, laughed, clearly enjoying every second of my discomfort.
"Guess it must feel nice to be the damsel in distress, huh, Peter?" she teased, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
I clenched my fists, every word stinging like a slap. But I couldn't say anything, couldn't defend myself. Anything I said would only make it worse. So I gritted my teeth, muttering, "Whatever," before pushing past them and heading upstairs to my room.
I collapsed onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling as frustration and anger simmered beneath the surface. I was sick of this — sick of feeling weak, helpless, like I was trapped in this never-ending cycle of humiliation. Gwen standing up for me had only made it worse, reminding me just how powerless I really was.
I sat up, grabbing my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. I needed to clear my head, to get away from everything, even if just for a while. The city library wasn't far, and it was one of the few places where I felt I could actually focus. Maybe I could lose myself in my homework or find something to distract me from the gnawing resentment that was eating away at me.
---
The library was quiet, the rows of bookshelves casting long shadows across the floor as I wandered through the aisles. I tried to concentrate on my homework, but my mind kept drifting back to what had happened with Flash, with Gwen, with Tony Stark.
I needed something — anything — to take my mind off it. That's when I spotted an old book on one of the lower shelves, its spine faded and worn. I pulled it out, squinting at the title: The Shadows of Power: A History of New York's Secret Societies.
Curiosity sparked, and I flipped open the book, scanning the introduction. It spoke of a mysterious group of cultists who had supposedly operated in New York in the early 1900s, gathering in secret to perform strange rituals and harness forbidden knowledge. The cult had reportedly consisted of influential figures — business magnates, politicians, even scientists — who wielded their power from the shadows, influencing the city's growth and prosperity from behind the scenes.
I sat down, captivated by the stories of these cultists. According to the book, the members of this society had gone on to become some of the wealthiest and most influential people in New York. They'd built fortunes, wielded power, and, if the rumors were to be believed, they had access to knowledge that most people could only dream of.
Page after page, I read about their mysterious meetings, their cryptic symbols, and their unbreakable code of secrecy. The book hinted that their influence extended far beyond New York, that they'd shaped industries, guided policies, and controlled entire corporations. It sounded like something out of a movie — and yet, there was something about it that felt…real.
As I read, a strange feeling crept over me, a sense of possibility. These people had been ordinary once, just like me. They hadn't been born into power or wealth; they'd seized it, claimed it for themselves through sheer determination and knowledge. And if they could do it, then maybe…
My mind was racing by the time I finished the last chapter. The book hinted at the location of one of their old meeting places — an abandoned building in Upper Manhattan, hidden away from prying eyes. It was vague, but there were enough clues that I thought I could find it.
I leaned back, clutching the book tightly as excitement and fear churned in my chest. This could be my chance — my way out of the shadows, out of the helplessness. If I could just find this place, maybe I'd find something that would give me the power I'd been craving.
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