DC: Spider Man

Two months.

It had been two whole months since Peter Parker became Spider-Man, and in that time, he had gone from a nervous rookie to a full-fledged crime-fighting superhero. He had taken down muggers, car thieves, and even some gang members. The city was beginning to recognize him, and the name Spider-Man was spreading fast.

Now, as he swung through the city under the cover of night, he found his mind wandering to something much more important.

"Maaaybe I should get Sakamoto Days," Peter muttered to himself as he twisted through the air between buildings. "I hear the anime is gonna be fire."

But before he could further contemplate his manga choices, a loud scream pierced the night.

His senses sharpened instantly. Without a second thought, he flipped midair and changed course, heading toward the source of the noise.

As he swung around the corner into a dark alley, he saw a cloaked figure looming over a woman, who was pinned against the wall, terror in her eyes.

"Hey, buddy!" Peter called out. "Ever heard of personal space?"

The figure didn't respond.

"Cool. That means I don't have to be nice about this."

He shot a web, catching the figure by the back of his cloak, and yanked him away from the woman, sending him stumbling backward. As soon as she was free, Peter landed beside her, helping her to her feet.

"You should go," he told her.

She nodded frantically and bolted out of the alley without looking back.

Now, Peter turned his full attention to the mysterious figure. "Alright, what's under the hood, Grim Reaper?"

The figure let out a low, guttural snarl. Then, in one quick motion, he threw off the cloak, revealing himself fully.

Peter's eyes widened behind the mask.

Pale skin. Black, greasy hair. And blood-red eyes that practically glowed in the darkness.

A chill ran down Peter's spine as the figure bared his teeth—long, sharp fangs gleaming under the streetlight.

Peter jumped back, waving his hands frantically. "WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! VAMPIRE?!"

The creature hissed and lunged at him.

Peter barely had time to dodge, flipping onto the side of the alley wall and sticking there like a bug. His heart pounded as he stared down at his attacker.

"Okay, okay, hold up," he muttered to himself. "How is a vampire real? I thought that was, like, Twilight fanfiction stuff."

Then, something clicked.

The news had been reporting strange deaths all over the city—bodies drained of blood, skin pale as a sheet, and two puncture marks in their necks.

Peter swallowed.

"So you're the one leaving bite marks all over town," he said, eyeing the vampire. "Dude, you ever hear of consent?"

The vampire snarled again and lunged at Peter, moving unnaturally fast.

Peter flipped off the wall just in time, landing in a crouch as the creature's claws scraped against the bricks where he had been.

"Alright, Nosferatu," Peter quipped. "Let's get one thing straight. I used to be Team Jacob. But, if it makes you feel better, I'll switch to Team Edward—"

The vampire charged at him again.

Peter barely dodged, twisting midair and kicking the creature square in the face, sending it crashing into a dumpster.

He landed smoothly, cracking his knuckles.

"—Nah, never mind. Team Jacob all the way."

The vampire groaned, slowly pushing himself up, his red eyes glowing with rage.

Peter tilted his head. "Sooo… are we just not gonna talk about the fact that you're, like, an actual vampire? Or are you just really dedicated to the goth aesthetic?"

The creature glared at him, breathing heavily. Then, in a deep, guttural voice, it spoke.

"Morbius."

Peter blinked.

"Wait, your name is Morbius?" he asked. "Dude, that sounds like a prescription drug. 'Side effects of Morbius may include nausea, dizziness, and extreme bloodlust.'"

Morbius let out a furious roar and lunged again.

This time, Peter was ready.

Morbius swung at him with clawed fingers, but Peter ducked, flipping backward and landing on a fire escape. He shot a web, yanking himself up just as Morbius leaped at him again, missing by inches.

"Whoa! You almost got me there, Count Chocula!"

Morbius snarled and swiped at the metal bars, bending them with ease.

"Okay, so super strength, check," Peter muttered. "Good to know."

He shot a web to Morbius' face, but the vampire slashed through it with his claws like it was nothing.

"Noted," Peter added. "Webs? Not your thing."

Morbius lunged again. Peter dodged, flipping over him and shooting another web to the ground. He yanked himself down, using the momentum to deliver a powerful kick to Morbius' back.

Morbius stumbled forward but quickly recovered.

Peter sighed. "Oh, you're gonna be one of those guys, huh? The whole 'get kicked but act like it didn't hurt' thing? Dude, at least pretend I'm doing damage."

Morbius' eyes gleamed with fury. He suddenly shot forward at inhuman speed, appearing in front of Peter in the blink of an eye.

Peter's Spider-Sense screamed.

Before he could react, Morbius caught him mid-air and slammed him into the pavement.

Hard.

Pain exploded in Peter's back.

"Gah! Okay, okay, point for Team Edward," he groaned.

Morbius loomed over him, fangs bared, his breath ragged. His eyes burned with hunger.

Peter tried to move, but his limbs were sluggish from the impact.

Morbius leaned down, mouth opening wide.

Peter's eyes widened.

"Oh, hell no."

Then—

Light.

Bright golden light filled the alley as the first rays of the morning sun peeked over the skyline.

Morbius froze.

A deep, guttural snarl escaped his throat as his skin began to smolder. He hissed, leaping backward into the shadows, his red eyes darting between Peter and the rising sun.

And then—he ran.

Peter, still lying on the ground, groaned.

"Yeah, you better run," he muttered weakly.

Then he collapsed back onto the pavement, utterly exhausted.

After a moment, he let out a tired chuckle.

"Team Jacob all the way."