2 Peter Wayne

A man, wearing nothing but black pants, could be seen inside a cave, one covered in spider webs and shrouded in darkness. The only thing illuminating this cave was a single monitor that the man was sitting in front of.

He had a wound on the side of his body, one that appeared to be from a bullet. Another man appeared, wearing a black suit while carrying medical supplies in his hands. He walked over to the wounded man and knelt beside him. "Master Peter... you're lucky to even be alive." the butler told him before putting some alcohol on a cotton ball and placing it on the man's wound.

Peter winced, feeling the alcohol stinging the side of his body. "Not lucky. They're the ones who landed a lucky shot. I'm still figuring out this Spider-Sense thing." Peter spoke in a raspy, tired voice. He had become nocturnal, but swinging around the city all night was still tiring.

"So this is what you're planning? Running around in your great-grandfather's WWI uniform, swinging around the city like some crazy spider-themed vigilante?" the butler began scolding him, talking to the young master as if he were his father, which wasn't too far off despite Peter denying it.

"You aren't my dad, Alfred. Stop pretending like you are. Besides, I'm the only one willing to protect the people of Gotham. Superman won't even step foot in this place." Peter winced again as Alfred started pulling the bullet out from his wound using a pair of tweezers.

"So you think you're the next Superman, is that it, Peter?" Alfred continued to scold him, placing the bullet in a tray before taking more alcohol to clean the wound further.

"No. I want to be better." Peter spoke with determination, though Alfred wasn't sold on the idea still. How could one man protect the entirety of Gotham by himself? It seemed impossible.

"Why, Master Peter. Why are you putting yourself in danger?"

"Because of what happened eighteen years ago. The night my parents died when I was just eight years old..."

𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘳...

Peter Wayne, eight years old, was seen walking while holding his hands with his mother and father, Thomas and Martha Wayne. They had just seen a movie together, an old western that Peter had been hassling his parents to go see.

The three of them were cutting through an alley together, talking about the film they just watched. "What did you think of the movie, Pete? Was it everything you'd hoped for?" Thomas Wayne asked his son.

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Peter cheered. He was so happy to have finally seen the movie he was so hyped about for so long. He begged for so long for his parents to take him and they finally caved and let him see it.

As Peter cheered, a mugger appeared from the shadows. "Give me all you've got!" he barked his orders with a gun in hand, pointing it directly at Thomas Wayne's chest. The billionaire put his hands up before speaking calmly. "My wallet is in my right pocket. Take it." Thomas instructed, nodding his head to the right.

The mugger reached into Thomas's pocket and pulled out the waller, looking through the loot inside before pointing his gun at Martha. "And the necklace!" he shouted. She too put her hands up. "Take it!" she told him with a face full of nothing more than fear and tears. The man grabbed her pearl necklace and ripped it off, causing a few of the pearls to fall into the puddle of water beneath her feet.

The mugger then looked down at Peter, locking eyes with the boy who was being consumed and overwhelmed by fear. As the two locked eyes, Peter could see a slow and sinister smile being formed on the man's face. Peter's eyebrows furrowed and the man pointed his gun at Thomas Wayne before pulling the trigger.

Both Peter and his mother screamed before the mugger shot Martha in the head, right between the eyes. Thomas Wayne's body hit the ground, and just a few moments later, Martha's body splashed into the puddle beneath her feet, her blood slowly mixing with the puddle and turning it crimson.

Peter was frozen, still staring up at the man with those same fearful eyes. The man pointed the gun at Peter, aiming right between the eyes as the boy helplessly stood in place. However, using his free hand, the man taunted Peter, wagging his finger at him before pushing him to the side and fleeing the scene.

Peter turned around, watching the man who killed his parents disappear into the night...

His eyes then looked to his mother and father, who were then lifeless on the ground, their blood still mixing with the water beneath them. Peter fell to his knees, grabbing both of his parents' lifeless hands. "Mom?" he spoke, looking at his mother's still horrified, but lifeless face. "Dad?" he muttered, looking at his father whose insensate eyes were looking right at him.

"Please... wake up..." Peter mumbled, grasping both of their hands tightly. He knew they were gone, he knew there was no way his mother could've survived getting shot through the middle of her skull. He knew his father's heart could no longer pump after a bullet ripped it apart.

"Please..." his welled-up tears all began to run down his face at once as he continued to beg with his childish, shaking voice.

Peter continued to weep over his parents' bodies until he eventually ran out of tears. It was at this very moment that he realized that Gotham needed someone to protect people like him, people like his mother and father.

"I'll do it myself." he spoke to himself, holding tightly to his mother's lifeless hand. "I'll make sure no one else feels this agony that I feel right now. I'll make them fear me. I'll make them too afraid to even think about being criminals."

His thoughts were childish. How could one boy expect to protect an entire city by himself? How could one boy possibly make the vilest of human beings on planet Earth fear him?

Regardless, these thoughts did not cease. All those years later, Peter still had those same thoughts as a twenty-six-year-old man.

Back in the modern era, Alfred looked at Peter with saddened eyes. That sweet, kind young boy that he once knew was gone. He figured, Peter Wayne must have died that night and someone else must have been born. That someone else was the man in front of him right now. That someone else was Spider-Man.

"Master Peter... you're serious about this, aren't you?" Alfred asked him.

"I am, Alfred. I've dedicated my entire life to this." Peter spoke with an intense determination that was so powerful, it was starting to rub off on Alfred.

"Alright then. If this is what you desire, Master Peter, then I will do whatever I can to support you, starting with upgrading this costume of yours. You need kevlar if you plan on not dodging bullets." Alfred told him with a solemn smile.

"I know... I figured kevlar would slow me down. I thought I'd be fast enough. Rookie mistake. I've been thinking triple-weaved kevlar might do the trick. It's light and flexible. It can also dampen blows from bullets." Peter was smart, genius-level smart, but he was overconfident in himself. He thought his years of training would be good enough and he acted foolishly.

This was his wake-up call. He'd never knowingly go into a fight unprepared again.

And so, he and Alfred went straight to work.

Once Peter and Alfred finished making the new version of his costume, which kept the exact look of his old one, they were sure to implement the important features of the prior version of his costume.

Around his wrists, he wore what looked like gauntlets, but they were in fact what he called web shooters. As the name would imply, they would shoot out webs in a similar fashion to a spider and were stronger than steel.

They also added a spider symbol on the front of it to act as an insignia, while also acting as a target for gunfire. The kevlar was focused right at the chest since they figured that would be where most gunmen would be aiming. To further increase the odds, they added a spider-shaped target to lure their gunshots.

As the two of them were finishing their project, a news story appeared on the lone monitor inside the cave.

"There have been reports of people going completely mad after consuming what is called 'Scare Crows candy.' Traces of some strange, unique breed of the poppy flower have been found inside the candies, driving authorities to believe that the poppy flower is what gives the candy its hallucinogenic properties.

Please, check your children's Halloween bags for this vile candy. If you notice any symptoms, such as aggression, talking to oneself, screaming, or suicidal tendencies, quickly contact the authorities.

Authorities are also asking that you stay inside as thousands of raging citizens, likely under the influence of this 'Scare Crows' candy, are running around harming and killing people without remorse."

"I need to go out there." Peter rose to his feet and began heading out for yet another patrol.

"But, Master Peter, you haven't slept." Alfred's words fell on deaf ears as Peter continued walking as if he didn't hear him.

'I don't need sleep anymore.' Peter thought to himself, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.