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*****
At the prom venue, the air was thick with the sounds of music—alternating between soft, melodic rhythms and intense, driving beats. Couples swayed across the dance floor, their bodies moving in sync with the lights as they poured their emotions into this final, celebratory night of their high school lives.
Laura sat at the very edge of the dance floor, her expression far from celebratory. After turning down yet another girl's invitation to dance, she ran a hand through her hair in a fit of irritation. She pulled out the tie holding her hair back, letting the dark strands fall loosely over her shoulders, and shifted further into the shadows. She didn't stop moving until she was well out of everyone's line of sight, positioned in a spot where she could still clearly keep an eye on Gwen. Only then did she nod in silent satisfaction.
"Hmm?"
Suddenly, her brow furrowed. Her senses flared, and her eyes darted around the room, searching for the source of a strange sensation.
"What was that? Did I imagine it?" Laura whispered to herself, her voice laced with doubt.
For a split second, she had felt a prying gaze sweep over her—a feeling of being watched that was far too deliberate to be accidental. But as she scanned the crowded room, she reconsidered. There were so many people here; perhaps it was just another student looking her way, debating whether or not to ask her to dance?
"So annoying!" she huffed under her breath.
Laura was frustrated, unaware that the gaze she had sensed didn't originate from anyone in the ballroom. Instead, it had come from Mike, who was parked several hundred meters away.
Inside a car down the street, Mike sat with a grim expression, utilizing his super-vision to peer through the walls and into the dance hall. His focus was locked entirely on Gwen and Peter, and his complexion was turning a shade of sour.
Dammit!
Even though he had spent weeks mentally preparing himself for this day, seeing his Gwen dancing with her boyfriend in the middle of that crowd still felt like a physical blow to his heart. As a father, the feeling was agonizing.
It was that classic, bitter realization: he had spent years carefully tending to the finest cabbage in the garden, only to watch a pig stroll in and start rooting around. No, not a pig—a little bug! At this moment, Mike found he didn't have a single shred of goodwill left for Peter Parker.
"Oh, you!" Raven chuckled, reaching over to playfully poke Mike's forehead.
"Dammit, I'm going to chop that kid's hands off!" Mike suddenly growled.
Raven jumped slightly, startled by the sudden outburst. "What? What happened?" she asked nervously, looking at him.
"That boy... he actually touched Gwen's face!"
Raven's eyes twitched. She reached out, firmly pushing Mike back into his seat with a weary sigh. "So what? It's a dance! Try to act like a normal person for once."
Mike bristled. "So what? So what?!"
Raven rolled her eyes at him. "If they are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, that is perfectly normal behavior. It's called affection, Mike."
"I don't care," Mike huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just don't like the look of it. It feels... wrong."
"You are Gwen's father, and nothing will ever change that," Raven said, her voice softening as she tried to reason with him. "But you can't interfere with her choices. She's grown up now, Mike. You have to let her live."
Mike let out a stubborn grunt. "Yeah, but who knows if she's making the right choice?"
"You know she is," Raven whispered.
After a long silence, Mike tilted his chin up, his neck stiff with defiance. "I don't care! Either way, that kid hasn't earned my approval yet. Not by a long shot!"
Raven let out a light, airy laugh. "Fine, fine. Have it your way. You're the boss."
Hearing her tone—the kind of tone one uses to soothe a cranky child—Mike shot her a mock glare. Then, a low, ominous chuckle escaped his lips. "Don't worry," he murmured darkly. "I'm going to put that boy through a very thorough 'inspection' process."
Raven shook her head with a helpless smile, silently offering a prayer for Peter's future.
As the final notes of a soft ballad faded away, the Midtown High graduation prom officially drew to a close. The young men and women began to filter out of the building, many of them still swaying as if the music hadn't quite stopped.
Peter held Gwen's hand as they walked across the school's athletic field. He could feel the surprised stares of their classmates following them, but he hardly cared. Every step he took felt like he was walking on air; he felt weightless, as if the entire world had turned into a dream.
"Peter? Where are you taking me?"
Gwen's voice broke through his reverie. She sounded curious, and while a hint of shyness still lingered in her eyes, she had mostly regained her usual composure.
Peter snapped out of his trance and realized where they were. They had already crossed the field and were heading straight for the "Small Woods"—a notorious spot on campus known as a sanctuary for couples looking for a bit of privacy. His face instantly flushed a deep crimson.
"Oh! Uh, I didn't mean to bring you here on purpose! I... I was just walking, and..." Peter stammered, his words tripping over each other in his haste to explain.
The Small Woods was famous for certain "intimate encounters." The more he tried to explain himself, the more he felt like he looked like a guy with an ulterior motive.
Seeing his panicked expression, Gwen couldn't help but laugh. She reached up and playfully pinched Peter's cheek. "If you actually had the guts to plan something like that, it wouldn't have taken you this long to finally confess to me," she teased.
Peter laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.
"Come on," Gwen said, checking the time. "I really should get going. Laura is still waiting for me."
"Right!" Peter nodded quickly.
Today had been the biggest step of his life. More importantly, he had finally received an answer from Gwen, and that was more than enough to leave him satisfied. He actually needed some time alone just to process the sheer adrenaline and excitement coursing through his veins.
Just then, a blood-curdling cry for help pierced the air, echoing out from the depths of the nearby trees.
Peter's body tensed instantly. He was about to bolt into the woods when Gwen's hand tightened around his, holding him back.
"Someone's screaming!" Peter said urgently, his eyes searching the darkness of the forest.
"I know," Gwen replied calmly, though her expression was strange. "But listen to the voice... doesn't it sound a bit odd to you?"
Peter paused, focusing his hearing.
"Help... help me... save me..."
The voice sounded like a child's, yet there was something distinctly "off" about it—it sounded synthesized, almost electronic. The sound was coming from directly ahead, but it seemed to be originating from somewhere very close to the ground.
A child? But... why would a child be here?
A sense of profound unease began to crawl up Peter's spine. The more he listened to the voice, the more it made his skin crawl. He looked at Gwen, who gave him a sharp nod.
"Let's check it out," she said.
Since they had heard it, there was no way they could simply ignore it and walk away.
The two of them moved toward the trees. Without hesitation, Peter moved his hand to firmly grip Gwen's, positioning himself slightly in front of her to shield her from whatever might be lurking in the dark.
Gwen blinked, momentarily surprised. Even though she didn't actually need Peter to protect her, the gesture warmed her heart. Remembering that Peter had done the exact same thing right before his confession, a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Following the sound, they soon arrived at the base of a small tree.
Perhaps because of the prom, the woods were completely deserted tonight, creating an eerie, oppressive silence. Because of that silence, the constant, rhythmic cries for help felt even more disturbing.
"Is it... under the ground?" Peter asked, looking down at the base of the tree in confusion.
"It looks like it," Gwen replied. She looked at the patch of freshly disturbed earth, her eyes turning cold.
Could someone have actually buried a child here?
If that were the case, she would make sure the culprit never saw the light of day.
As Gwen leaned down, preparing to dig into the dirt, Peter caught her hand. "Let me do this," he said firmly.
Gwen looked at him, and when she saw Peter's cheeks turn slightly pink again, she gave him a faint smile and stepped back with a nod.
Feeling a surge of encouragement, Peter's hands became a blur of motion. In just a few moments, he had hollowed out the shallow pit. But as the two of them looked down at what lay inside the hole, the hair on the back of their necks stood on end.
Lying in the shallow grave was a doll. Its neck had been sliced halfway through, its limbs had been brutally torn from its torso, and colorful electrical wires spilled out from the stumps like mechanical guts.
The doll's mouth was clicking open and shut rhythmically, emitting that same mechanical, haunting cry: "Help me... save me..."
As if sensing the presence of Gwen and Peter, the doll's head began to twitch. With a series of sickening, metallic creaks, it forced its nearly severed neck to turn, slowly locking its lifeless eyes onto the two of them.
(End of Chapter)