Spindle

A street-level superhero story for people who are sick of quips, allergic to optimism, and done pretending the world is fine.

Greg Holden isn't a hero. He's barely functional. A perpetually drained tinkerer with more emotional splinters than friends, Greg can't decide whether he's apathetic, depressed, or just allergic to people in general. His uncle thinks he's wasting his life. His aunt tries too hard. His best friend worries too much. And Greg? He'd rather wander into a fog-choked forest than deal with any of it.

He should've stayed home.

Instead, Greg stumbles into an abandoned research lab - the kind of place where the cobwebs feel judgmental - and gets bitten by something that absolutely shouldn't exist in the wild or the suburbs: a radioactive recluse spider. He crushes it on impulse, but the damage is done. The venom, the radiation, the wrongness of the place... it all hits him at once. Hard. Hospital-hard. Coma-hard.

When he wakes up, the world feels colder. Emptier. Sticky.

Literally sticky.

Greg discovers his hands cling to walls, his balance is unnaturally sharp, and his nerves fire in directions that feel less "gift" and more "cosmic clerical error." He doesn't swing triumphantly into action. He panics. He hides. He crawls on ceilings because he can't not. He accidentally witnesses a grotesque drug test involving "pumpkin venom," gangsters in retro suits, and a level of brutality Greg wasn't emotionally prepared for - not that he's emotionally prepared for anything.

And then his uncle Joe - the one man Greg resents because he actually gives a damn - is murdered right outside a shooting range. Greg finds him bleeding out, tries to pretend he doesn't care, and tells himself he's fine.

He's not.

So when Greg sees a helpless old man being targeted later that night, something snaps. His sarcasm weaponizes. His fear crystallizes. His instincts sharpen into something feral. Violent. Unsettling.

Spindle is born - a spider-stalker who protects the innocent but unsettles everyone, including the innocent.

He doesn't quip. He bites.
He doesn't pose. He scurries.
He doesn't reassure. He unnerves.

And the city of Wolfsbane? It can't decide whether he's a miracle or a monster.

As Greg juggles crime-fighting, guilt, a photojournalism job under a cynical editor, a budding romance with a girl who's definitely up to something, a grieving aunt, a worried friend, and a criminal underbelly controlled by an albino nightmare called Ghost Man... he starts to realize:

Great power doesn't make you responsible.
Guilt does.
Loneliness does.
Survival does.

And Greg Holden has all three in spades.

This isn't a superhero story about rising above your trauma.
It's about a kid crawling through it - on the walls, in the shadows, dripping venom and regret.

Perfect for fans of:

• dark character studies

• grounded, morally gray heroes

• street-level noir

• psychological horror blended with vigilante justice

• DC-style grit with zero corporate polish

If you're tired of sanitized heroism and want a story where the spider bite doesn't give you confidence-it gives you issues-then step into the world of Spindle.

But be warned:
the sticky parts aren't always the webs.