Spiders hate the cold

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Spiders hate the cold


Peter wakes up trembling. His cheek pressing on some rough old hardhood floors. That same floor is freezing, charging jolts of shivers through his body. He groans out feeling like somebody slam his head on a brick wall hard. His head is pounding and he feels like he's gonna throw up. With great effort, more so lying there on the freezing floor for what felt like forever before he could sit up. Feeling something wet and warm pouring down his eyebrow and down his temple to his cheeks, tracing his chin until it drips on his bound hands.

Blood.

No.. Oh God..

Where am I?

He calms his breathing and he looks around the small room. It looks like a really old cabin. A really old and cold cabin. He blinks, trying to focus his blurred out vision.

"Oh, the little Stark boy is awake." A man wearing a ski mask said as the door opens.

"That's a really good look on him. Take a picture and send it to Stark."

No.. Tony! May! I've been kidnapped?!
This can't happen..

He hears the camera shutter from his kidnapper's phone as they take a picture of him. God he might've been a sight now looking at the pool of blood from where he's been lying down on. He shivers again and one guy leans over him lifting his chin.

"Oh look, he's shivering like a wet dog." The guy with the camera says making all of them laugh.

"Now close your eyes or I'll close them shut. You need to look pretty in the camera boy." He snarls and Peter let's out a pained scream as that guy grips his hair right where his head wound is.
Head wounds bleed a lot and he knows he really did took a bad hit there.

It hurts so much.. no no no!

"Look he's crying! That's better! Take a picture of that!" The guy from the door said laughing and the other guy who's gripping his hair, grabs Peter's jacket.

"I have a better idea."

"Man, what the fuck?!" Someone yells. Peter's sees a glint of metal and his MIT hoodie.. Tony's MIT hoodie is being slashed off his body until he's only wearing his inner shirt. Peter screams out when he felt a sharp hit above his collar bone.

"Fuck! Man don't kill the kid yet!"

"Oopps that's an accident." The thorn hoodie. Tony's gray MIT hoodie, is now stained in red. His blood. Peter is hyperventilating. He can't have an attack now.

He'll die. He can't.

Calm down Peter. Calm down.

Breathe..

"Look at this masterpiece. Stark will pay 15million for this." The guy lifted the barely recognizable hoodie.

"You're so stupid. How'd we get the money if he thinks the kid's fucking dead?"

"He won't. We give him this. Then he'll cooperate with us more. He'll begged for the cops to fuck off and poof. We have the money and we're free to go."

"You're a fucking genius man!" Peter wants to cry out. He held it in. No.. not yet. He can't break down yet. Another shiver jolts his body and he looks around the room as the three mask men left him there. He sees a lump of navy blue on the corner and he curses in relief.

His winter coat. He waited until he hears the footsteps fade. He hears some keys clinking on each other. They're locking him in? And then a car starts.

They're leaving me here?! They're really leaving?!

Peter lets out a ragged breath that starts a coughing fit. He crawls his way to the corner grabbing his coat. He wanted the warmth. He needed the warmth but his wrists are tied. He can't properly wear the coat. He looks around again. Blinking some dizziness away until he remembers.

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