Peter blinked his eyes open then groaned and shielded away from the seemingly blinding light around him. Oh god my head is going to split open.
He moaned weakly and, trying to ignore his pounding headache, opened his eyes again to look around.
What the…? Where am I? Peter squinted around at what looked like… the sewer system? How the hell did I get down here?
He tried lifting his arm to shield his eyes so he could get a better look around but it was… stuck.
The brunet glanced up in confusion then his eyes widened and a spark of fear flickered to life within him. His arm was trapped against the wall with webbing. His kind of webbing.
Shit, there weren't too many people around that used the stuff. Peter could practically name them off one hand and besides himself, none of them were good news.
The teen tried to pull his arm out of the sticky stuff, but it wouldn't budge.
His eyes were starting to adjust to the light around him and he quickly realized what he had thought was bright light was actually gloomy and dim. Dammit I must have a migraine or something.
Peter glanced over to his other arm and down at his legs, but they were all stuck to the wall with the same webbing… and the pounding in his head just got worse.
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard with a grimace. Oh god I'm going to be sick. He couldn't even remember what had happened before he woke up and he was getting seriously nauseous now.
All he wanted to do was go back to that wonderfully peaceful, painless darkness of unconsciousness, but the fiery pounding in his head made that impossible. He moaned miserably.
How could things get any worse?
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