Chapter Text
In the heart of New York City, wedged between towering skyscrapers and the ceaseless flow of traffic, stood an apartment building that had seen better days. The brick façade was cracked in places, the elevator groaned in protest with every floor it climbed, and the pipes clanked like restless ghosts in the winter. It wasn’t luxurious, but it had a certain charm, a place where couples found comfort in its quirks.
But one apartment wasn’t like the others.
On the sixth floor, at the very end of the hallway, was Apartment 6B.
And no one knew what to make of the people who lived inside.
The Parker brothers weren’t unfriendly, but they weren’t exactly approachable either. They kept to themselves, never lingering too long in the hallways, never stopping for small talk. Strange sounds occasionally drifted from their apartment—soft murmurs at odd hours, the low hum of machines, and sometimes, a crash followed by hurried voices.
But the strangest thing of all? No one could quite agree on how long they had been there.
Mrs. Donnelly from 3A, who had lived in the building longer than anyone, swore she remembered when the place was built, yet she couldn’t recall a time when the Parkers weren’t there. "I think they moved in before the building was even finished," she would say with a frown, as if trying to grasp at a memory just out of reach.
Others were certain the brothers had only been around for a few months, maybe a year at most. "I swear they just showed up one day," Julia from 2F murmured to her boyfriend. "Like, one morning that apartment was empty, and the next, they were there—no moving trucks, no boxes, nothing."
And if you asked the landlord, Mr. Gillis, you wouldn’t get many answers either.
He was a no-nonsense man who only cared about two things: getting rent on time and not dealing with complaints. And the Parkers? They never missed a payment—always on time, sometimes early, and always in cash. But when he tried to remember when they had moved in, his mind came up blank. There was no lease on file, no signed paperwork. If it were anyone else, he would’ve kicked them out without hesitation. But somehow, it had never seemed important.
The one time he had been inside, years ago—or was it months ago?—he remembered knocking, being let in, and then… nothing. He couldn’t recall what the inside of the apartment looked like. Every time he tried, it was like staring at a blank space in his memory, like trying to recall a dream that faded the moment he woke up. That was enough for him. He never went back.
He didn’t ask questions.
Because deep down, he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers.
The building was full of speculation. Mrs. Donnelly was convinced they were running some kind of underground business—"probably something with computers," she would say knowingly, though she had no idea what that actually meant. Mr. Henderson from 5C, a retired cop, had his own ideas. "Witness protection," he muttered over his morning coffee. "They keep to themselves. Either they saw something they shouldn’t have, or they’re hiding from someone who wants them dead."
Younger residents had wilder theories. Julia and Marcus from 2F whispered about how eerily similar the brothers were. "What if they’re clones?" Julia suggested, half-joking, but Marcus only shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe they’re time travelers. Or something else."
And then there were the children, who avoided Apartment 6B entirely. They spoke in hushed voices about the eerie glow that flickered behind the curtains at night, or the strange clicking sounds that echoed through the hallway when everything else was quiet. "That apartment’s haunted," little Emma from 4D declared with wide eyes. "Or cursed."
And yet, no one ever dared to ask the Parkers for the truth.
Pietro Parker, the eldest, was the only one most people knew by name. He was a science teacher at Midtown High, and despite his quiet nature, he was popular—especially among his students. With his sharp features, dark tousled hair, and an easy confidence, he had a fan club that spanned multiple grades. Girls whispered about him in the hallways. Boys admired his effortless cool. Some students did both. Even outside of school, the rumors followed him.
"I heard he used to be a scientist, but he had to go into hiding after an experiment went wrong," one junior claimed, her voice hushed like she was revealing a government secret.
"Nah, he’s ex-military," a senior countered. "My cousin swears he saw his name in some classified file online."
"You’re both wrong," a sophomore insisted. "He's a vampire. He’s been here for years, but he never ages."
The speculation only grew wilder after an incident in class where a Bunsen burner tipped over, and Pietro caught it before it hit the floor—moving almost too fast for anyone to see. "Did you see that?" someone whispered. "He didn’t even flinch!"
Then there was Peter, the middle brother, though fewer people knew about him. Pietro occasionally mentioned him in passing—"my brother Peter studies science at the university"—but the details were always vague. Some students had seen him around, usually buried in books or carrying around a laptop, always looking slightly preoccupied. Unlike Pietro, he didn’t draw attention, but those who had met him said he had the same sharp features, the same dark hair, just... quieter, more distracted.
And then there was Pete.
Pete was the biggest enigma of them all.
The rare times he was spotted, usually rushing through the apartment hallway or arguing with a cashier about needing to show ID, people had the same reaction: "There’s no way that kid is an adult."
Despite his constant insistence that he was 21, no one ever believed him. He barely looked fourteen. Maybe younger. The older ladies in the building were always asking why he wasn’t in school. "Is he homeschooled?" Mrs. Donnelly asked one day, but when she pressed, Pietro only gave a polite smile and changed the subject.
"I think he has a condition," Anna from 7D whispered one evening. "You know, one of those things where you don’t age properly?"
"Nah," her boyfriend scoffed. "I think he’s some kinda mutant. Or an alien. Something’s not right."
The theories never ended, but no one ever dared to ask the Parkers for the truth.
Because something about them—whether it was the way they moved, the way they spoke, or the way they always seemed to be on the edge of something unseen—made it clear that some questions were better left unanswered.
But you, dear reader, are different.
You will see past the locked doors, beyond the whispers, and into the strange and tangled reality of the Parker brothers.
So sit back, relax, and prepare yourself.
Because their story is just beginning.