Sweet Home

Prologue

Always me... Tyrone, the "friend of Spider-Man, the Spider-Man of Atlanta." But I'm not Spider-Man, I'm not like him, and I never will be. And yet, here I am, fighting against the darkness that has engulfed Atlanta.

Beating up criminals and henchmen, acting in the shadows, like a monster of the night. That's how they see me. I'm not the hero everyone expects, I'm not an example to be followed. I'm just an anti-hero, fighting crime in my own way, the way life taught me.

While Peter Parker is a true hero, with his unwavering ideals and principles, I'm just a shadow of him. My heart is stained with guilt, a mark I carry with me. Inferiority is what I feel every time I think about Spider-Man and what he represents.

I don't want to be compared to him, don't call me Spider-Man. I don't deserve that title, that honor. I am what Atlanta needs, but I'm not worthy of being an icon, of being admired and loved. In my essence, there is anger and despair, and that's the only way I can fight.

This city is my home, my sanctuary, and I protect it with sharp claws and fangs. I've turned myself into a monster, so that criminals feel fear, so that they think twice before spreading destruction through the streets. If I can't be the hero they want, then I'll be the monster they need to fear.

Every punch I throw is a cry of frustration and self-loathing. Every time a criminal falls before me, the guilt intensifies. Maybe I'm stopping them, but the price I pay is too high.

The dawn welcomes me, and darkness becomes my ally. I'm not a symbol of hope, but rather a shadow fighting in the shadows. My actions, my way of life, don't align with the hero everyone adores.

But even with all this pain and conflict, I keep fighting. I fight because it's all I know how to do. I fight because I can't forgive myself if I allow myself to give up. And above all, I fight because I can't let evil win.

As the sun prepares to rise, the eyes of Atlanta are still blind to the true face behind this anti-hero. And maybe it's better that way. Because in the end, I'm not the man they want me to be, but I am the man that Atlanta needs me to be.

So, I'll keep fighting in the shadows, a true anti-hero, carrying the guilt, the hatred, and the inferiority. I'm not Spider-Man, but I am what Atlanta has, the dark protector of its shadowy streets.

But it wasn't always like this... Before I became... this, I was a quiet and reserved young man. I wasn't a bad kid, just an ordinary person trying to find my place in a busy world. But life has a mysterious way of shaping us, and the journey doesn't always follow the path we imagine.

Part 1

Tyrone bid farewell to his mother before leaving home for another day of work. He had the responsibility of supporting his mother and his two younger brothers, as well as his younger sister. It was a constant struggle to juggle all the part-time jobs he needed to ensure his family had enough to survive.

After a few hours of hard work, Tyrone finally finished his shift and began his journey back home. Night fell quickly, and the neighborhood where he lived was known for its violence, especially after sunset. He quickened his pace, with a determined look on his face, focused on getting home safely.

On the way, Tyrone came across a group of teenagers who seemed to be plotting something suspicious in front of a grocery store. Upon noticing him approaching, one of the teenagers stepped forward with a malicious grin.

"Hey, you, we need one more guy to help with our 'mission' tonight," the teenager said, winking suggestively at the others in the group.

Tyrone looked at them suspiciously. He knew very well what they were planning, and he didn't want to be part of it. However, his precarious financial situation weighed on his mind. The temptation to get easy money to help at home was great, but he knew he couldn't succumb to desperation.

"I can't do this," he replied firmly.

"It's not the right way to make money."

The teenagers laughed, mocking him for being a "goody-two-shoes" and refusing an opportunity to earn quick cash. However, Tyrone stood his ground in his decision.

"We're cool today then, it's your loss, man," said the group's leader, shrugging.

"We'll find someone else willing to make some easy money."

Tyrone continued his way, ignoring the provocative comments. He knew he had to make tough choices to ensure a better future for his family, even if it meant giving up tempting opportunities for the moment.

Suddenly, the shrill sound of sirens echoed through the neighborhood as the grocery store owner noticed the suspicious activity in front of his shop and decided to take action. He picked up the phone and called the police, quickly describing the situation and requesting help.

As Tyrone continued his way home, he heard the sirens approaching and realized that something was wrong. Before he could understand what was happening, a young adult who was with the teenagers planning the robbery pulled out a gun and aimed it in the direction of the sirens.

"Let's get out of here!" the young man shouted, with a nervous expression on his face.

"It's the cops! We need to go now!"

The other teenagers hesitated but soon began to retreat. Tyrone tried to move away as well, but mistaken for one of the thieves, he got caught in the middle of the chaos.

"Wait, you're not one of us!" one of the teenagers exclaimed, pointing at Tyrone.

But before Tyrone could respond, the police arrived, stepping out of their vehicles and quickly taking positions to contain the situation.

"Arms on the ground! Now!" ordered one of the police officers, with his gun pointed at the group.

The young adult who was with the teenagers panicked, and before he could think of the consequences, he opened fire at the police officers. The shootout began, and the police officers retaliated, seeking cover and firing back in response to the attack.

Tyrone tried to run for cover, but mistaken for one of the robbers, he was shot multiple times. The pain overwhelmed him, and he fell to the ground, blood all around, clutching the spot where one of the bullets had hit him. His heart raced uncontrollably as he tried to process what was happening.

"I'm not one of them! Stop! Please!" Tyrone shouted, but the chaos of the shootout drowned out his words.

Finally, the shots ceased, and the police managed to neutralize the shooter. They approached the teenagers cautiously, ensuring there were no more threats.

"Call an ambulance!" one of the police officers ordered, seeing Tyrone critically wounded on the ground.

As they waited for the ambulance to arrive, Tyrone looked at the night sky, his mind filled with fear and regret. He never imagined that an ordinary night could turn into a nightmare so quickly.

When the ambulance finally arrived, Tyrone had already lost consciousness.