Spider-Maria

"Oye, ¿de qué estás hablando? Mi nombre es Peter, este es…" (Hey, what are you talking about? My name is Peter, this is…) Maria scowled, pressing her hand against her chest and feeling an unfamiliar softness beneath her usual Spider-Man suit. "Esto no es mío, parece que lo hizo uno de mis enemigos, ¿tal vez un duende verde? ¡Es su estilo!" (This isn’t mine, looks like one of my enemies did it, maybe the Green Goblin? This is totally his style!)

The photographer furrowed his brow, finally shaking his head in clear confusion.

— Uh… Can you… well, maybe say that in English, please? — he asked hesitantly, lowering his camera and stepping back. He clearly hadn’t expected this surreal monologue from the "new model."

Maria (or was it Peter?) irritably put her hands forward, fingers positioned in a familiar stance, ready to release her web. She tensed, instinctively waiting for the familiar click at her wrists… but nothing happened. She tried again, and again—still, nothing. She exhaled sharply, panic flashing across her face as she stared down at her hands, half-expecting to find some hidden mechanism or even a power button. But none of her superhero tricks worked here.

The photographer, still staring, cautiously took a step closer, letting out a sigh as he tried to make sense of the situation.

— Okay, so… it’s not a bad pose, right? — he asked with a confused smile. — I mean, it’s just like Spider-Man… only… what’s with you? — he couldn’t help but laugh, watching her bizarre attempts to mimic a fictional superhero.

Maria frowned, still awkwardly fiddling with the suit, as if hoping to find something familiar that would prove this was all just some crazy prank. Eventually, she straightened up and glared at the photographer.

— Escucha, esto no es gracioso, ¿vale? (Listen, this isn’t funny, alright?) — she began, taking a step forward. — Yo soy Spider-Man … el verdadero Spider-Man. Y lo juro, no tiene gracia si es obra de Osborne… (I’m Spider-Man … the real Spider-Man. And I swear, it’s not funny if this is Osborne’s doing…)

She stopped abruptly, noticing how the photographer’s expression had morphed into even greater bewilderment, as if he couldn’t understand a word.

— Uh… I think I only got "Spider-Man," — he mumbled nervously, chuckling awkwardly. — Look, how about we try English again, alright? Just… English? — He gestured desperately, trying to hint, but Maria only sighed, realizing her words weren’t reaching him.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered to herself:

— No me entiendo ni yo… (I don’t even understand myself…) — She nervously surveyed her new figure, feeling something unfamiliar, soft, and… irritatingly feminine under the ridiculous skin-tight suit. "This is some kind of trap. Green Goblin, you definitely set this up…" she thought to herself.

The photographer took a nervous breath, clearly trying to maintain his patience, and raised his camera again.

— Alright, let’s just try a few shots, okay? — he said, stretching his words as if that might help Maria understand. — Smile, please?

Staring at him in frustration, Maria repeated:

— ¿Ustedes de aquí no escuchan? ¡Te dije que soy Spider-Man! ¡Peter Parker! (Are you people deaf? I told you, I’m Spider-Man! Peter Parker!) — She threw her hands up, gesturing to herself, her eyes flaring with a mix of rage and panic.

— Uh… — the photographer tilted his head uncertainly, still clearly not understanding. — Spider-Man… right, but, uh, miss… you’re just here for the photoshoot.

Maria spun around, determinedly heading for the door. Desperately, she searched her mind for an explanation for how she could have ended up here. None of it made sense: her body, her voice, the fact that she couldn’t shoot webs anymore… And this photographer, looking at her like she was some bizarre model when she was—she was Peter Parker, Spider-Man!

— ¡Esto no puede estar pasando! (This can’t be happening!) — she muttered as she left the studio, slamming the door behind her. She found herself in a long hallway where a few people gave her strange looks.

— Excuse me, miss, are you… uh… — one of the assistants began, but Maria didn’t stop to listen.

— ¡No soy “miss”! (I’m not “miss”!) — she snapped, storming past. — Soy Spider-Man, ¿entendido? ¡Spider-Man! (I’m Spider-Man, got it? Spider-Man!) — She halted abruptly, realizing she had no idea where she was going. The building felt completely foreign, and the whole situation was getting more absurd by the second.

Her heart was pounding wildly. "Alright, Peter, calm down," she mentally reassured herself. "Find an exit, figure this out… whatever it takes!"

She spotted an elevator at the end of the hall and started towards it, but as she got closer, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirrored wall by the doors. Staring back at her was a young, attractive girl with long dark hair, dressed in a Spider-Man suit that seemed to hug her new body a bit too tightly. Maria involuntarily reached out to touch her reflection, her fingers trembling.

— ¿Esto soy… yo? (Is this… me?) — she whispered, horrified at the realization of how her body had changed. — ¡Maldita sea, Goblin, te voy a encontrar! (Damn it, Goblin, I’ll find you!)

Suddenly, her gaze landed on a poster for the new Spider-Man movie. Maria froze, staring at it. The poster showed Spider-Man—her Spider-Man. But it wasn’t her, not Peter Parker. Another actor stood in the suit, with the words "New Spider-Man from Marvel: Homecoming" written boldly beside him.

— ¿Qué demonios? (What the hell?) — she whispered, feeling her insides twist. "Homecoming"? What "new Spider-Man"? She could barely believe her eyes. In her reality, where she was Peter Parker, no one had ever made movies about her. So, she was in some other reality where her role, her life, was just some kind of fictional story meant to entertain people?

— Esto… esto es una broma de mal gusto… (This… this is a bad joke…) — she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away from the poster.

At the elevator, a television screen caught her eye, its bright headlines drawing her attention. It was covering the premiere of the new Spider-Man movie and enthusiastically discussing the actor in the lead role. The anchor was practically gushing about how millions of fans around the world had eagerly awaited their favorite superhero’s return to the screen.

Maria, entranced, stared at the screen, struggling to make sense of it all. The idea that her life and heroic deeds had become mere entertainment felt absurd, even terrifying.

— Esto… esto es una pesadilla… (This… this is a nightmare…) — she whispered. Someone passing by bumped into her, and Maria barely managed to keep her balance.

Looking up at the screen again, she saw a scene where Spider-Man, played by the actor, comically waved his arms, striking the classic web-slinging pose. It looked like a caricature of her own moves. Maria clenched her fists, feeling a surge of anger and humiliation. She, Peter Parker, had devoted her life to fighting crime, and now her story was just a cheap blockbuster that made a mockery of everything she once stood for.

— ¡Osborn! Sé que esto es cosa tuya… (Osborn! I know this is your doing…) — she muttered, gritting her teeth. It felt like some twisted plan by her old enemies to break her down mentally.

But looking around, she realized that even if Osborn or some other villain was behind this, she would need help. She had no idea how to get out of this reality, and it seemed there was no one here she could trust. She had no powers, no allies, and even her language—Spanish—felt completely foreign to her now.

Maria took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She had too many questions and no answers. The only clear thought in her mind was painfully simple: she was trapped in a strange reality where her life was seen as fiction, and no one took her seriously.