Spider-man Jail Novels & Stories

she whispers The man on the other line, apparently still listening, clears his throat. “Uh, ma’am—” “Shut up,” Camille snaps, glaring at me “What do you mean he isn’t in prison?” I shrug, enjoying the way her face pales. “I helped get him out.” The phone nearly slips from her grasp. She clutches it tighter, pressing it against her ear. “That’s impossible.” “Ma’am,” the man on the other line interrupts again, his voice shaking. “I was just about to call you. He’s… he’s gone. He escaped.”

Justin shrugged again, “It was a good deal gone bad.” He remembered it all too well. The shady dealings with Marone who wanted half the shares in SAN limited, luckily he was always one step ahead of the slimy bastard and kicked him out of the board when the opportunity came. Marone was currently serving a life sentence in prison for the crimes he committed. “I don’t think Marone is capable of this,” Justin muttered minutes later, “He’s in jail.” The detective frowned, “He’s in the mafia. I don’t think you know how much strings those bastards can still pull, despite being incarcerated.”

"Yup, he's calling me." Charlie nodded at the buzz-cut man. "See ya." "Are they releasing you now?" The buzz-cut man blurted with a disappointed expression on his face. "But you just got in." The officer looked at the buzz-cut man and announced in a flat tone, "He's being transferred to Brooklyn Prison." "What?!" The buzz-cut man yelped in shock and jolted. He then shouted toward Charlie's back, "Bro, what did you do?! Did you kill someone? I heard that American prisons are worse than hell. You’d better be careful!"

“Look, how i can get away here? what do you think of me, a Spider-Man that can—” He interrupted when Nadia suddenly covered his mouth because of the loudness of his voice. “Are you crazy? just leave!” she said angrily to the young man as she pushed him out of their house. “Yes, yes! i'm leaving, okay?” at once she released him. “And don't ever come back here anymore. Also tell your boss not to bother sending me back to the CIA because i'm no longer the old Lelia you knew!” then she knocked it down the door and just leaned against the door.

A WEEK LATER Jade sighed as she stared at the man chained up in her dungeon. She wiped his blood off her knuckles, then took two steps back to study the damage she had done. The man looked up at her, a pleading look in his eyes, his whole face covered in blood. He looked pathetic. She had thought he would spill the truth before she even had to torture him, but he'd surprised her by holding on for so long. Simone stayed behind him, his gaze on Jade as he waited for the next course of action.

"We didn't realize you were so weak that you couldn't even hold a gift box. We shouldn't have snapped at you." Caspian nodded in agreement. "We overreacted. You just got out of prison; of course your body is failing you." I stared at them, confused, until I followed their gaze down. My sleeves had slid up while I was out, revealing the horrific lash marks covering my arms. They were scars from the prison guards—some still raw and unhealed. I felt a cold irony wash over me. It was too late. I didn't want their apologies.

Just authority. “This is Trevor. I’ve been arrested. False accusations of sexual assault. No access to counsel.” A pause. “I’m at the 17th Precinct in Brooklyn. Being held with four others. Separated. No official charge yet.” Another pause. Ramirez watches him like a hawk. “…Yes,” Trevor says finally. “Thank you.” Then he smiles. “Thanks, Dad.” Click. “Don’t forget your promise. I am Nilla Ramirez.” He hands the phone back with an obscene wink.

Dealing with maniacs required more than just wit, and their true headquarters was far removed from the gambling tables, buried deep where sunlight couldn't reach. Leonard entered the casino, passing gamblers reveling in their games and winnings. He observed them briefly before proceeding to a restricted door that led to a concealed underground passageway. At the end of the corridor lay La Ravenl's actual base—a grim, dimly lit space reeking of blood and dampness, resembling an execution chamber more than a negotiation room.

“Now, let’s go over the plan.” At that exact moment, Simon’s cell phone rang in his jacket pocket. He rolled his eyes in annoyance but answered it. “Yes, Jackson? What’s wrong?” Simon’s expression changed. Calmness and the energy of victory turned into somber concern. His eyes met mine, and I knew the news was bad. He hung up the phone abruptly. “Jackson is in prison,” Simon informed me, his voice tense. “He tried to approach Sara at her house to warn her about Peter. The police arrested him for “failing to comply with a protective order.”

Jack frowned, feeling that there was something wrong with the man. The judge sentenced Lucas first. The man was sentenced to life in Coleman Prison 1. His face looked withered and disheveled after a week in Brooklyn Prison. The atmosphere of the trial was chaotic because Lucas did not accept the sentence he received, let alone having to be placed in that terrible prison. Two policemen grabbed Lucas by the arm and dragged him out. As they passed Jack, Lucas looked at him with mocking laughter. "I heard you didn't end up marrying Elena, heh?"