1 Who am I

I usually wake up quickly, as if someone had switched modes - I had just slept and dreamt, and now I'm ready for action. It's a very useful quality, especially when I have a couple of hours to sleep and have to rush to work or school in the morning. Well, that was not the case this time.

My consciousness hovered in a sort of borderline state of half-sleep. I mean, I realize that I'm asleep, fully aware of my situation, but I still can't wake up. I was in a state of sleep paralysis, but without the panic. This time, though, I think I can find a couple of reasons to be scared. I don't remember falling asleep, judging by the jolting sitting in the car with a severe headache and ringing in my ears. What's going on, am I drunk?

The car suddenly bounces on a bump and I bang the back of my head vigorously against some iron over my head. Bitch! Now I know why my head hurts and my ears are ringing. The pain helps me wake up, though I'd rather do it on my own. I try to swear, but I can't - my lips are taped together with something, probably duct tape. I finally crack my eyes open.

It's dark.

I'm not sure if it's dark, or if I can't make out a goddamn thing. Do I have a bag over my head, too? If this is some kind of stupid prank, someone's going to get hurt!

Who's gonna get hurt? I suddenly realize that I don't remember anyone pranking me like that.

I don't remember shit! A massive hangover or, what the hell, amnesia? I try to move my hands, but I can't. They're tied. What if this isn't a joke? Have I really been kidnapped? But who needs me? I... I... Shit! I don't remember shit about myself! Who the hell am I?

What a panic!

Goddamn it...

Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop being hysterical!

The pain subsided a little, even the ringing in my ears began to recede. I heard some speech.

"He is such a mess, I don't even want to remember!" The voice was female, rough, with perfect American pronunciation. I seem to know English - that's good, but for some reason I have difficulty grasping the meaning of what was said, as if I hadn't spoken English in a couple of hundred years, probably since my school days.

Stop! School… I'm starting to remember. Great!

"Come on, tell me! This is a real date, with a man! You must tell us!" Another voice, also female, a little higher and softer.

The first voice again. The woman is telling a story, but I focus on remembering something about myself. And I'm starting to get good at it. I remember: my childhood, regular school, where I was teased because I did not know how to communicate with my peers. My classmates themselves: Mary Jane Watson, my windy first love; Flash Thompson, the dumb jock soccer player who was always making fun of me; Harry Osborne, my first and only friend, who very easily forgot about me once he became popular. I remember my relatives: Aunt May and Uncle Ben. I remember Uncle Ben dying in my arms. I remember my first real girlfriend, Gwen Stacy, who also died in my arms because of my mistake, because I was a stupid self-righteous young man who thought he could be a superhero... That's right, I remembered - I am a superhero! Spider-Man! I guard the peace of New York City by night and work as a journalist for the Daily Bugle by day, selling my own pictures for next to nothing... Damn, I'm such an idiot! What the fuck? What's wrong with me? Okay, all right, calm down, maybe I'll remember something else later that will explain everything.

I'm trying to relax, get my thoughts in order. My mouth is very dry. My tongue feels rough, like sandpaper, scratching my palate with every movement. Had I been chased through the desert? Stop. Something's not right. I run my tongue over my teeth, trying to figure out what's got my attention. Right, that's it! There's supposed to be a hole in this spot, the one Dr. Octavius knocked out my tooth when I tried to stop him from robbing the bank. Why the fuck was I even bothering with a regular person? All I had to do was hit him once in the head and knock him out, right? Stay focused, Peter! The tooth! Yes, that's right, a tooth that shouldn't be there! I don't remember putting in an artificial tooth, and I never grew a new one, though I kept hoping. What the hell? Okay, there's another way.

I strain my right foot and start gently pulling my toe up, waiting to feel it. Nothing again. But I must have a damn beacon sewn into my foot by the Fury people while I was unconscious. A normal person wouldn't have sensed such a small thing, but I knew from the beginning that the Shield was watching me with the beacon.

And then I noticed another oddity. Weakness. No. No. No. It can't be. I'm a normal person. Damn it, I've been robbed of my superpowers somehow!

Could it not be my body? But how is that possible? Oh, I get it! A virtual simulation! That's why there's no picture - to keep me from unraveling the deception, it's much easier to suggest to a person that they have a bag on their head than to create a picture that's indistinguishable from reality.

And at that moment something changes in my mind, I begin to understand the stranger's speech much more easily.

"The wetter his eyes, the drier it gets between my legs. When I decided that I had to get out of here, he was so distraught: all these poses began, his lips pouting like a child. I just wanted to punch him in the face! These men can't even show anger. I took off."

How stupid! It's so lame, I don't know how they made me think I didn't understand English, but it confirms my hunch. It's all a virtual simulation, but somehow I don't remember anything after that... I can't even tell exactly where my memories cliff off.

"Seriously?!" The second girl exclaimed. "You ungrateful bitch, you wouldn't let me hit on him, and you didn't even take the chance!"

"Shit, I agree!" Third female voice. "You're just a fucking bitch. He's a man, why did you expect him to suddenly become a pussy? You can't expect men to be feminine, you have to be gentle with them! You had your chance and you blew it."

What the fuck are these women talking about? I don't understand shit.

"You know what? Fuck both of you! And fuck your men, too! They're just useless trash! Like hell I'm going to put up with all these grimaces, fiddling, endless demands and tantrums. And for what? So he can wiggle his flaccid cock in my vagina once or twice a week? No, I'd rather find a girlfriend, give her a huge rubber dildo and every night she would fuck me with this cock like no man could ever do! And I certainly won't have to share it with anyone! That cock will be just for me, every night."

"And then your girlfriend will get married, become the fourth wife of some boy with a flaccid dick and give him great kids, she'll have a happy big family, and you'll be alone with your hard rubber phallus. Bitch."

Well, now I know it's not real. They probably tried to block my memories so I wouldn't unravel the deception, but something went wrong. It was time to stop this circus. I started pulling the ropes and getting the attention of the nearby NPCs. I hope they have a script to take the bag and the gag off me.

"Oh, look, little Parker has come to his senses," someone sat down on my right side, pressed close to me, and then put one arm around me, "Don't be afraid, boy, we won't hurt you."

I could only moo and shake my head in response, which I did.

"Let's take this bag off him, there's no way he'll remember the way anyway."

"Hey, you can't show him our faces, what are you doing, stupid?" She's the one who told the story about the whiny guy.

"Well, put a stocking over your head if you're scared, bitch!" Says the NPC who sat down with me. "Okay, we're gonna take this thing off now."

Finally, they took the damn bag off me and I could see... A blurry haze.

What the hell! Your simulation sucks, I can't see shit, it's like I have minus ten in each eye again! Oh, that's right, it's another way to hide the bad graffiti - to make me think I have bad eyesight. I get it: they were trying to make me forget that I got superpowers.

"Oh, that's right, he can't see without his glasses," says a third NPS. Apparently, it's a clue in case I don't figure out my "bad eyesight" myself.

"Eh, you're such a sweet and clever boy," they rubbed my head, "so take my advice, do whatever you're told and then no bad things will happen to you."

"Believe me, it's embarrassing for us to have to do this to a boy like you," said the girl who was talking about manhood and men. Now I know she's sitting right across from me, "but we have no choice, the boss said only you can help with Doc's problem. Don't worry, if all goes well, we'll get you home in one piece."

"Except for a little bit of a... Ouch, Archie, what the hell are you shoving me for?"

"Don't bullshit me! That's not why he's here, and if you've got an itchy pussy, go to your girlfriend with the rubber cock you've been telling us about!" New voice, female again. Well, not only the voice, I also saw a blurry silhouette of the speaker who had previously shoved another NPC in the side.

"I was just kidding, why are you so pissed off? I don't give a damn about Parker, he hasn't grown yet…"

"Dumb jokes, Mumbles, you better shut up before it's too late."

"Yeah, bitch, we get that you prefer a rubber dick to a real one, so stay away from Peter," the NPC hugging me joins in the altercation.

I can see her face literally ten centimeters away from me, but I can't see anything. It's even strange, in everything that doesn't involve vision, this virtual is not inferior to reality: touch, sounds, smells, pain. It's just like the real thing.

"The gag must be bothering you, why don't we take it off?" The NPC turns to his female companions.

"Even if he screams, no one can hear him, we're out of town."

"Then get ready, this is going to hurt a little," she says, picking up the edge of the duct tape with her fingernail, and begins to pull it off slowly.

"Fucking hell, get it off already!" I say, while jerking my head to speed up the process. Something falls out of my chest pocket.

"Hey, something fell down," the girl across the street leans over and picks it up, "it's a glasses case! So you wanted to tell us you had a spare pair of glasses."

"No, bitch, I meant to tell you to shove that stupid prank up your..." And then the girl puts the glasses on me, and I shut up in half a word.

"You shouldn't be swearing so dirty to a boy," says the hugger, and I can only move my gaze from one girl to the other with my mouth open, because such a real picture can't be a graphic and, unfortunately, it's not a prank at all.