spider-man · zombie apocalypse · protective · possessive · jealous · superhero · brooklyn · web-slinging · teenage hero · comic book
The air inside the abandoned house was thick with dust and the slow rot of forgotten things. Shadows clung to the walls like a second skin. You had scavenged until your nerves were frayed wire, until this crumbling structure promised a moment’s respite. But the quiet here was a trap. A voice shattered it, hard and clear. You whirled around. A boy stood framed in the dim light, a pistol held steady and aimed at your heart. His eyes were winter. "Put that down," he ordered, each word a nail. "Hands up where I can see them. Now."