When Everything Goes Right (Something Has To go Wrong) 2

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"Faster, kid." A voice snarled

I could barely hear his low voice over the rush of blood in my ears, the heavy beating of my heart, and the wheezes escaping my mouth.

My lungs scream at me and I can't breathe, my legs are shaking and sweat mats my hair to my forehead. WIth every step I feel like I will collapse into a heap on the ground. But I can't, becuase I don't know what would happen if I did.

30.

The number flashes in red letters on the wall as I pass by the new lap.

30 miles.

I think he yells at me to go faster, I'm probably bearly moving, but my body burns. It hurts more than if I was stabbed or shot, more than any energy I've ever had.

My throat is dry and I can barely take in another breath, the world blurs around me, the black, white, and red on the walls merging together to create a blob of unrecognizable colors. My brain is scattered, the only thing in my mind being the word stop.

I need to stop.

I need water.

My foot runs into something, possibly my other one, and I nearly fall over.

"Your not even halfway there!" A man scolds as I do so. "Every trip is another mile, ever fall is another 5!"

His angry voice barely reaches my ears over the pumping of my heart and the unsteady breaths in my mouth.

C'mon Spider-Man, c'mon! I should be able to do this, c'mon... faster... GO! I can do it, I can do it, I can do it- I can't! Help me! Oh God! Make it stop, please... please I'll do anything. Dad... Mom... Harley... Morgan... Help... I'm here, I'm alive, please come save me! I want to go home. Oh god no, oh god, please no! Help me... please.

If I wasn't running right now I would be sobbing, sobbing for my family, sobbing out of fear. I'm not quite sure how many more laps I did, and I don't want to geuss. I don't want to think I've done more than I have.

Going around in circles makes me dizzy and I can't see straight. The ground in front of me is blurred and I can only make out small blobs slamming against the hard floor. I pass the lap again and I can barley make out the numbers in red, 39? Or is that a 5? Or maybe a 0?

My joints protest as I take more steps, the shock from my feet hitting the floor traveling through my bones. I think I can feel eyes watching me, but I'm not quite sure. To be honest, I'm not sure of anything.

I don't know if this is a very realistic nightmare, or where I am, or if my family is ok. I know nothing.

...

112 miles.

That's the last thing I saw in angry red letters before collapsing, my legs collapsing under me and my vision going black.

...

When my eyes fluter open again a man with a brown beard and slick back brown hair appears in my vision. The funny thing being he doesn't look like much of a villian, just your avrage Joe who'd have a family and a ranch house in the suburbs.

"Hello, kid, nice sleep?" He smiles and his white teeth shine with the reflection of light.

I fight to keep my head up, but it's nearly impossible, "What-" I say testing my voice, it is hoarse at first, "What do you want with me."

My eyes burn, and they are probably teary and red.

"That's for me to know," He whispers in my ear, "And you to find out... maybe," he hands chuckling before pulling away.

"Start the camera!" He yells, and it is only then do I notice the other people in the room. On of the guys is short and partially bald, one of the girls has longer brown hair and a pointed nose.

Tingling erupts in my neck giving me a headache. My mouth is still dry and screams for water.

I try to twist my neck to see behind me, and I can barely see a green screen. The man with a beard walks infront of me, stopping infront of a girl dressed in black with blonde hair. She grab some cloth and begins walking in my direction.

My spidey sense grows more intense and I can barely handle it. When her cold but soft hand grips my arm, stars dance in my vision. My legs are shaky and I nearly fall over.

"Take off your clothes." She demmands

I look at her in shock.

No... Oh god...

"Take off your clothes." She repeats.

No... Oh god...

Hesitantly and with great labor I pull my shir over my head and try to take off the loose shorts around my waist.

She throsts fabric in my hand and part of me relaxes.

"Put this on." She demands again.

I get my legs into the leg wholes after about five tries, and then finally pull it over my shoulders after at least a few minuets.

I look at the last peice of fabric in my hands and my eyes widden in fear.

It's a mask, a Spider-Man mask. But instead of the bright red and blue covers it is a darker red with black. I look down at the rest of the suit ad it is practically identical to the one dad made me but different colors.

"Put on the mask." The bearded man demands. Fearful of the punishment I pull the mask over my head. Once it is over my head I try to take in a breath. But I can't.

I gasp and gag, but nothing works. No oxygen. "Hard to breathe?" The same voice asks.

I don't do anything, I can't do anything. "Complete your task and you can take it off."

A gun is placed in my hand, and I look up infront of me. Against one wall is a target, quickly I raise the gun and fire, hitting bullseye.

Looking around, I realize that was the only target. Quickly I pull the mask over my head heaving in a breathe of 'fresh air'. I squeeze my eyes togehter, and when I open them again I see a splatter of blood.

A numbing feeling spreads throughout my body and I can't breathe again, just like the mask is again. Infront of that splatter is a sluped over body with blood leaking from it's forehead.

She couldn't have been that old. 20 or 30 maybe? I look from the person to the gun.

I killed somone.

No. NO!

I drop to my knees.

"WHY! WHAT DID YOU DO!"

"Not what I did, Spider-Man, what you did."

"What are you doing with me! Who the fuck are you?" I scream

"Kid, you can call me Mr. Beck."

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