You sat on a bench, enjoying the sunrise as the prison grade coffee you just drank settled in you.

The oddest thing about the raft, you thought, was how quiet it was outside, as one would expect a super max prison to be loud and somewhat chaotic.

But, pure, quiet bliss took you, and you had no quarrel of it.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and suddenly felt tense, as you made equal friends and enemies in the prison.

You turned cautiously.

Adrian Toomes, A.K.A The Vulture

You were relieved that it was Vulture, your cell mate and unexpected friend.

Vulture: Tell me, is the coffe any better this morning?

You: Hardly, but it's the best we will get.

Vulture sat next to you, seemingly concerned.

Vulture: Do you hear that?

You: I don't hear anything.

Vulture: Exactly, it's quiet, a bit too quiet, there's usually more sound coming from the city.

You noted a eerie silence in the air.

You: You're...right. It's way to quiet, you can usually hear traffic, but nothing.

Vulture: A ill omen.

You: C'mon, don't get all 'old, paranoid wisdom' on me.

Vulture: I've soared the skies my boy! Seen the world from high above! I know when something is amiss, and today...something is not right, not a bit.

You: I like to be a optimist, it could be that Oscorp finally got around to a 'Quiet, Safer New York'.

Vulture: Ha! This city will never be safe. Far too many..

Vulture seemed to doze off into thought.

Vulture: Insects.

You: Yeah, too many Boy Scouts in tights.

Vulture: A statement I can support.

You focused your hearing and found that the only discernible sound you could hear was distant sirens.

You: Something big night have happened, all I can hear is sirens...a lot of them.

Vulture: It is New York, a crime happens every minute here, could be that.

You: Maybe...

Vulture stood up with a vigor uncommon of his age.

Vulture: Well! It's too nice of a day to be sulking on the benches, up for a game of baseball with the rest?

You: I'm always up for it, especially if it means I get a point up in our game.

You and Vulture tallied your victories in recreational activities once a month, and the one with the highest score bought the other goods from the men in cell block 3, who sold cigarettes, candy, mechanical parts and the like for other illegal goods.

Vulture: Ha! You can try my boy, but I will be peeking you clean before we're done!

You: You and those vulture puns, you're making me miss the spider.

You both played for sometime, but, as Vulture said, you lost.

Timeskip, Your Cell
The evening yard hour had just ended, and you came back from shower to rest.

Your cell was relatively small, but had basic amnesties such as a small shelf for approved books and even a closely monitored tv, which played news and the like.

Vulture entered your cell with a kick in his step, with the guard harshly closing the door behind him.

Vulture: You will never guess what I traded that bag of beef jerky for!

You: If it's another mini M&M filled with razors I'm gonna lose my shit.

Vulture: Of course not! Look!

Vulture pulled out a movie from his shirt.

You: Is that...Lord Of The Rings!?

Vulture: Yes! All the movies burnt onto a single disk!

You: Jackpot!

You high fived Vulture, as though a simple commodity like a set of movies might not seem like much, some new entertainment is a exciting prospect in the prison.

You: We gotta watch these.

Vulture: Of course! Let's start wi-

A sudden rush of footsteps outside interrupted your conversation.

You: What's going on? A breakout?

Vulture: Couldn't be, the alarms would be going off if that was the case.

You both looked out your cell window and found the guards huddled together at the tv in the guard room, seemingly showing a news report.

Vulture: I can't hear the tv, what does the caption say?

You looked closely and read the caption, with a cold feeling taking your body after realizing what was on the tv.

Vulture: Spit it out boy! What did it say!

You: Spider-Man...

You looked at Vulture.

You: Is dead.