Chapter 3

"Jeannie," Peter Parker poked his head into her office, "You want me to walk you home?"

Jeanne looked up from her computer screen. She smiled, deep crow's-feet revealing themselves at the corners of her eyes. She had always liked Peter Parker. He was partly the reason she argued that the younger generation wasn't completely doomed.

"Don't worry about it, Peter." She sighed, taking her glasses off and squeezing her eyes shut. "I just want to do a few more things around here before I leave. Thanks anyways sweetkins."

"You sure?" He tried again, hating to leave the seventy-four-year-old woman to take the subway by herself, especially past nine o'clock in such a dangerous city as New York. "I can wait."

"Hush, you! You get on home." She put her glasses back on, pushing them up the bridge of her nose with her index finger. "This might take me a while. Anyways, I won't be able to get anything done knowing I have someone waiting on me to finish."

Peter sighed then waved, walking towards the elevator. "Alright then, Jeannie. I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early." As he stepped into the elevator he waved again. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight!" She hollered, returning to the harsh light of the computer screen.

Another hour or so and she was nearly finished. The only thing missing was a closer.

"And so," She typed on her keyboard. "Could there be some truth found in the rumors surrounding Dr. Jacque Rausenbleum? Yes. Will this reporter give up until she finds exactly what those truths are? Most definitely… not! 'Til nex-" She stopped typing. The elevator doors had just opened.

"Ralph? Is that you?" She asked. Ralph was one of the janitors on the nightshift. There was no reply. "Peter?" Again, no reply. She pushed her chair away from her desk and stepped out of the office. Across the room full of typewriter desks, the elevator doors were slowly closing but there was no one inside. A cold chill ran down her spine.

Ignoring the cold chill, she turned back towards her office. No sooner had she turned her back to the elevator doors than the lights went out, leaving her alone in complete darkness. She threw her back up against the wall, her breathing having begun to speed up. From the faint lights of the busy New York nightlife outside, she was able to make out the shadow of a man on the other side of the room walking towards her. A sinking feeling in her stomach told her to run. She chose to listen. As fast as her legs could carry her she made her way to the stairwell, after realizing that with the power out the elevator would be useless. She was about to begin running down the stairs when she realized that the power was out from her floor down to the ground-level floor. Every floor above her still had power. She weighed her options. She could venture the 25 stories down to the ground floor, in the dark, or she could go up where there was light and perhaps other people. She chose the second option.

She ran up the stairs and at every landing tried to open the door to get inside of the offices. Each and every door was locked. She continued upwards until finally one of the doors opened. The only door that opened was the one that led out onto the rooftop. Fear eating away at her tired legs, she nearly fell onto the roof when she opened the door. She crawled out of the doorway and shut the door, sitting in front of it to allow herself a second to catch her breath in the muggy summer air.

She looked around. The rooftop was huge, the majority covered in complete dark from the shadow cast by taller skyscrapers beside it. There was no way for her to get down unless she went down the way she came. When she heard footsteps coming from the stairs behind the door, she knew she was stuck. Suddenly panicked, she jumped up and ran from the door, towards the ledge.

The man kicked the door open. Ms. Janson was sent into a hysterical frenzy.

"Help me!" She screamed at the people in the surrounding buildings. "Someone, help me!" She watched the windows of the buildings, half-expecting someone to come to the window, see her in her frantic state, and call the police, but she also half-expected no one at all.

The man fired a bullet at her. It skimmed by her ear, missing her by mere inches. She screamed again, falling to her hands and knees as she scurried farther from the man.

A strange melody curled in the wind, as sweet and smooth as syrup, until it curled around her ears and scooped inside, immediately calming her fried nerves. The man continued to walk towards her, fire glowing in his black eyes. The melody suddenly got louder and more high-pitched. It continued to rise in pitch until it began to shake Ms. Janson's eardrums. The pitch continued higher still and finally she had to close her palms over her ears at an attempt at muffling the sound. It was of no use. Just when she thought she could take no more the sound stopped. Whereas the man hadn't heard it before, he heard it now and it sent him sprawling to his knees.

"Hey, you." A voice called from the dark side of the roof. "Yeah, you. Tall, dark and creepy. How about you leave the nice lady alone?"

Ms. Janson strained her eyes to try and distinguish a faint figure through the dark but it was to no avail. The man, no longer being affected by the sound, took a step away from the reporter and towards the voice, an angry "Gurrrrrrgle" emanating from his throat. As soon as the man had disappeared into the dark, Ms. Janson made a mad dash for the opposite side of the roof. Her wide eyes searched the rooftop again for stairs, fire escapes, ladders, anything to get down, but the roof was completely bare save for the door to get back into the building. She ran to the door and turned the knob. It wouldn't open. She turned the knob the other way but it still wouldn't open. An animal-like scream escaped between her closed lips as she tried desperately to jerk the door open. It still refused to open.

She ran back to the edge of the building. Gripping the two-foot tall ledge, she looked over the side and onto bustling Times Square, thirty-six stories below. The wind whipped through her loose hair, stealing her breath away as it did.

"Dear God Almighty," She whispered, feeling suddenly faint as she threw herself away from the edge, flattening her body onto the safety of the rooftop, her cheek resting on the hot cement. She was lying in this position when a body flew from the dark and landed with a great –THUD!- ten feet in front of her. She closed her eyes, hoping for a split second that it was the man that had been chasing her. When she opened her eyes again, she saw steam rising from the figure as it tried desperately to push itself up to its feet. Its palms were flat against the roof as it tried to get up. As soon as she believed it was going to get up, it fell against the ground again with a groan.

It wasn't the man. Ms. Janson scurried to the figure's side. She reached out with one hand to turn the body over but hesitated. She contemplated whether or not this being was another person out for her life, but the thought vanished just as quickly as it had come. She pulled the body over so that it lay on its back.

It was a woman. Ms. Janson could tell as much from the well-developed curves through the tight pearlescent latex that she wore. Aforementioned, the woman wore a tight pearlescent latex cat suit that dipped down below her belly-button as a deep V-cut in the front, revealing a taut stomach and lily-white cleavage. Three-inch heeled boots connected seamlessly with the bottom of the cat suit, leaving the reporter to wonder what would happen if one's heel were to snap off. Shaking her head, she told herself this wasn't the time or place to be thinking on such trivial things.

She tried to see the woman's face but an unruly mop of crimson ringlets had been flung over her face. With trembling hands, she brushed the ringlets from the woman's face only to reveal a matching pearlescent mask that covered her eyes, a silver screening over her eyes.

The gurgling was heard from the dark once more, forcing the reporter's mind to jumpstart.

"Wake up!" Ms. Janson grabbed hold of the woman's waist and began to shake her. "Oh, please wake up!" A warm liquid coated her fingertips, causing her to cease shaking the woman. As she brought her fingers away from the woman's side and up to her face, she gasped. Her entire hand was coated in an almost black blood. Quickly, she turned the woman onto her side and saw a gaping wound, revealing an immense amount of torn flesh and muscle. "Jesus Christ." She whispered as the man appeared from the dark. It took a step towards the two, wielding a gun in its hand.

It lifted the gun, cocked it back and aimed. Ms. Janson held the woman's body close against hers and pressed her eyes shut, her lips forming the words of The Hail Mary.

"Our father, who art in Heaven, hallow be thy name."

A sound of something cutting through the air caused her eyelids to flutter open.

"Spiderman!" Ms. Janson screeched, having never been quite so happy to see New York's neighborhood wall-crawler as she was now.

"M'am." Spiderman crouched on the ledge, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat in her direction. "Looks to me-" He was cut short by a tingling at the back of his head. From past experiences, he knew better than to ignore this feeling. In a split second he had flipped backwards off of the ledge and was falling, having barely missed a speeding bullet. The reporter gasped, letting the woman go as she threw herself against the ledge. Just as she had peered over the ledge, a line of webbing shot out and gripped the ledge beside her. Spiderman was pulling himself quickly back onto the rooftop.

Whoa, okay Pete, less talk. He thought to himself as he climbed back onto the ledge and got his bearings once more.

"Spiderman. Get Ms. Janson out of here." The wounded woman was up and holding a short three-pronged dagger in her hands. The handle of the three-pronged dagger shot out and lengthened a good three feet into a Triton. She spun the Triton in her hands, walking towards the man. "I can handle this."

"Wha- who…" Spiderman began but stopped, nodding. "I'll be back." He scooped Ms. Janson into his arms, shot out a thick line of webbing at the rooftop, then leaped from the side of the building. The old woman shrieked and pressed her face into his shoulder as the two free-fell nearly twenty stories. At the last ten stories he slowed their freefall by shooting out another line of webbing that secured itself to a nearby building. He swung from the line and shot out another onto a farther building. He continued this until he had reached the Police Bureau. Two policemen were standing at the doorway when he dropped Ms. Janson gently onto the steps. "As always, it was a pleasure Ms. Janson." Like earlier, he tipped his imaginary cowboy hat then pulled himself up the side of the building using another line of webbing.

As quick as he could manage he traveled between the skyscrapers until he had returned to the Daily Bugle. Back on the rooftop, the man was gone. In his place was a chunky puddle of yellow gunk. Spiderman knelt down beside the puddle, running his index and forefinger through the mess and bringing it close to his face for a better view.

"It was a poor, organic, water-based attempt at a clone." The woman was standing behind him but he acted as though her appearance was of no surprise. "Electricity separates the poorly-fitted atoms and as a result it forms that which you see here."

"Not bad," He stood and faced her. "For a newcomer."

She smiled, not knowing whether to take this as a compliment or otherwise. Her smile didn't last long as it quickly faded into a grimace.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, taking a step towards her. Blood seeped through a hand clasped over her side. He made a motion to remove her hand but she stepped away.

"I'm fine." She dropped her hand, revealing a wide wound in her side.

"If you call a huge hole in your stomach fine, then sure, you're just dandy. Let's get you to a-" As he spoke, the wound began to shrink before his very eyes. In a matter of seconds, it went from the size of two fists to the size of a quarter until it had vanished completely.

The woman smirked then turned towards the side of the building. She walked to the corner where the two faces of the building met, then stepped up onto the ledge.

"Wait a sec," Spiderman took a step toward her. "I didn't get your name."

"I'm sure you'll find it in your beloved Bugle tomorrow." With that said, she turned to face him then took a backwards step off the building and disappeared.

Spiderman ran forth and watched as the woman fell from the side of the building, her gloved fingers skimming the wall. His heart stopped as he watched. His legs tingled as they desperately fought against his brain to spring forward and catch her. Horrible thoughts of her smashed into a bloody pulp against the sidewalk began to run through his mind.

She wouldn't just jump off of a building to her death. He thought, watching her quick descent. She didn't come off as the nutsoid type.

His thoughts were confirmed. She gripped the corner of the building and was able to slow herself down. As soon as her feet hit the ground she was off, running. She ran into an alley where he lost sight of her.

She ran into the alley and as soon as she knew she was out of sight, she threw her back up against a wall. Her side was aching as though a cinderblock-sized splinter had been thrust into her. The skin was unmarred but just underneath the surface she could feel her organs and muscles pulling themselves back together, much more slowly than the skin had.

"Idiot." She muttered to herself, pushing her body away from the wall and walking slowly down the alley. "Showing off like that! And that, that thing, was way outta your ballpark." Halfway down the alley the metal bottom of her heel clinked against something metal. She stepped to the side then with a great deal of effort, lifted the manhole-cover up and threw it to the side. She kneeled back down, a smile playing on her crimson lips. "Not bad for a newcomer. Ha! He ain't seen nothing yet. Oh, wait, damnit! There I go, getting ready to show off again." She stood and scowled. With a sigh she stepped into the manhole, pulling the cover back over as she climbed lower into the dark sewer.