"Charlotte? Are you there?"

Immediately slamming the phone back down, she glanced in the reflective surface of the metallic clock and saw that she had been drained of almost all colour. In contrast to her dark hair her skin was virtually white and she felt that she looked extraordinarily ill.

She wasn't sure what to do or where to go, but knew that no matter what the receptionist said to Creed he would still be up there in a matter of moments, possibly even quicker. How he had found out about her was a mystery.

"I was so careful…" She told herself, shaking her head and glancing around her for inspiration of somewhere she could go. Without any, she grabbed her cell phone, pocketed it and dashed out of her office and through the cubicles in the next room. It was only when she reached the second to last cubicle that she heard a ping from behind her and turned to see Creed in the mirrored wall opposite the elevator.

Immediately, without thinking, she ducked and crawled quickly into the closest one, using anything reflective around her to try and catch glimpses of where the mutant might be. She remained deathly still and quiet, before realising, all too late, that his primary sense was not sound or sight, but smell.

"Guess who," she heard from above her, and glanced quickly up to see him leaning over the corkboard separating the cubicle she was hiding in from the next. With a reflex speed she never knew existed within her, she had darted under the arm he stretched out to catch her and was pressed against the wall. "This is not the time…" she told herself, seeing the last of the workers leave the office, completely oblivious to the huge animal of a man present. "This is not the time." But Creed, too, was fast, and her body's natural defences won out.

As quickly as she could, she had scuttled up the wall like a spider, her eyes shiny and black. She had reached the top in a matter of seconds, so frightened was she of the man below her, who was calmly watching and not even attempting to make a move.

"Damn," she heard him mutter, but though he was blinking in surprise, his lips were curling into a smirk. "That's pretty creepy, kid."

Victor walked over to the wall and tapped it with his knuckle- Charlotte noticed that he was testing it and, with it being hollow, it wouldn't withstand his weight if he had to be as fast as her. Though she felt a momentary sense of achievement, this was quickly overturned by the obvious fact that this was actually going to be easier for Creed than she had thought. The ceiling may have been high, but he was pretty tall himself and he merely moved until he was stood directly beneath her.

Charlotte panicked and, as she did so, fell into his trap. It had been so long since she had used her powers that her hand slipped and, as she attempted to pull it back up, Creed's fist had enclosed around her wrist. With a swift tug, she was pulled back down to the ground. She heard a crack as her arm twisted and, hoping it hadn't broken, attempted to wrench it from his grip. Unfortunately, her fear had been confirmed and a sharp pain pierced its way through her elbow- it was sprained, in the least.

"You know, they usually make some sort of effort," he told her lazily, taking hold of her other hand when she used it to try and pry him away from her. "But, I suppose that-"

But he was interrupted as a ping alerted both of them to the fact that someone was about to enter and, dragging Charlotte behind him, Creed stood defiantly in the centre of the gap that halved the cubicles in the room. She just about caught the manic grin upon his face and gasped when Arthur, the elderly security guard, emerged from the elevator. The man turned and cocked his gun, aiming it directly at Creed.

"Let her go!" he demanded, though Charlotte could see he was visibly shaking. "Let her go now or I'll shoot. I repeat, I will shoot."

"Oh man," Creed groaned, and rolled his eyes. "Why can't you people be more fun?" And, momentarily letting go of his prey, he launched himself at Arthur. Behind him, his intended effect had been put into motion as Charlotte, about to run for it, was rooted to the spot in horror as Victor began to close his hand around the security guard's neck. He had no need to restrain her, and she felt terribly stupid for it, but was helpless to do anything.

"Stop it!" she screamed at him eventually, but Arthur's punctured artery was only being held together by Victor's claw in the wound and, when she shouted "Let him go!" he laughed. At that point, she realised what she had done and tried to protest and take back what she had said but to no avail.

"As you wish," he grinned, and dropped the man to the floor. As Charlotte watch Arthur take his dying breaths, she felt sick, but her mind kept pointing out to her that she was free from Victor's grasp and she needed to make a run for it. There would be time to grieve for the already dead man later, she told herself, as she darted up the wall once more and across to the left of the room where the door to the stairs was situated.

"Now that's more like it!" she heard Victor shout, as she reached the door and pushed it open. She jumped, balancing on the railing of the stairs and closed her eyes. The core of her hand felt cold, and she knew it had worked, as she caught sight of Victor sprinting towards her from the other side of the room. Immediately, she dropped down the centre of the spiralling staircase, descending from where a web had attached to the metal railing.

He appeared, leaning over the edge and staring down at her, when she was two floors below him and she saw the grin spread across his face.

"Faster…go faster…" she hissed to herself, seeing that she still needed to drop by seven floors to get to the door to the lobby. But, above her, she felt the shudder of the stairway as Victor jumped down a floor from where he was stood, landing on the ledge at the opposite side- he could have jumped the full way, she thought, but he was toying with her, making it a game.

When she saw him reaching out for the string of a web, however, she felt doubtful and even stopped moving. No…He wouldn't…I'll fall to my death… She stared up, wide eyed, as he dragged the web towards him with one hand, making her sway some way below him, and extend one terribly sharp claw on the other.

"Oh dear," he tutted, shaking his head. "I think it's time this place cleaned up their cobwebs- it's terrible in here." The claw was moving ever closer to the web and she was pleading with him not to do anything, attempting to swing herself enough to reach the railings nearest to her.

"Whatever do I do with you?"

"Don't do this…please…I'll come quietly…"

"No, Charlotte, you won't."

"I will! I promise…Just don't drop me…"

"Whatever do you mean? Surely spiders land on their feet…"

She gasped. The claw was touching the web.

"Or is that cats? Ah, the finer details of the phrase always slip my mind, but let's see if I'm right, shall we?"