Closed starter for :~ @dontcallmepepper
Deep, uneven breaths slipped past the boy's lips as he stumbled back into the confines of the lift, hues peering up at the digits indicating his descent. There was the ever present itch to call out to Friday, to have her scan through /every/ corner of the compound, but Peter just couldn't bring himself to utter the words. He didn't think that he could handle the silence that would meet him, not when he was already using every fibre of his being not to give in to the blind panic easing its way from the pit of his stomach and up into his throat.
There was a slight jolt as the elevator reached the ground floor and the doors slid open, the lights flickering eerily overhead. Peter ignored the irregularity; nearly tripping over his sneakers in his haste to get out and into the parking garage. As expected the concrete expanse was filled to the brim with sleek sport cars, a quinjet and a private plane, but the boy's eyes didn't linger as they normally would; searching instead for the owner, the people in charge of maintaining the obvious display of wealth- ANYONE really--but the compound remained just as abandoned as when Peter bounded in a few hours prior.
"W-what is going on? Did Happy strongarm another move-out day he forgot to tell me about?"
Peter swallowed, gaze sweeping the garage/full blown warehouse once more before he finally felt the tinge of panic blossom into fear, rubber soles squeeking as he began to run for the exit. He didn't stop even as the concrete underneath his feet gave way to gravel and gravel gave way to grass, his eyes stinging due to the crisp autumn air.
He didn't -want- to think too much about how his current predicament resembled that of the old zombie movies he and Ned loved so much---because Iron Man was not a zombie.
He was probably just called out to an emergency Avenger thing, his staff sent off on a stress relief trip to the crystal, clear waters of the Maldives and Friday was down for a routine maintenance check. It made sense. Perfect sense.
It wasn't until his spidey senses spiked, alerting him to the sudden flicker of movement ahead that Peter lurched to a halt, arms flayling to keep himself upright. He thought he might have imagined it out of desperation and adrenalin, but then his enhanced hearing picked up the faint crinkling of dry leaves and undergrowth. Peter hesitated, willing all thoughts of the undead to the recesses of his mind, before he peered into the clusters of trees before him, pale fingers digging into the straps of his backpack. "Uh....hello...? Mr-Mr Stark?"
