I always used to think superheroes were figments of imagination, characters you find in comic books and old movies. This is the twenty-first century; nobody is selfless enough to spend a lifetime fighting the same evil over and over again, just to save people who won't appreciate it. Heck, I'm surprised when fictional characters manage to maintain their self-sacrifice. Even cops aren't perfect—plenty of them go dirty, or treat it just like a day job, and ignore it at night.

That's why I was so shocked when I first heard about Spider-Man. In our very own city, too! I hadn't seen him yet, and I didn't know what I'd think if I ever did. At the moment, I wasn't sure whether to actually believe it or not—it might have been some publicity stunt by the media, or a hoax or prank by some restless citizen. I mean, some human arachnid crawling around skyscrapers and spinning life-size webs? Sounds pretty fantastic to me. And I mean the made-up kind of fantastic, not the amazing kind. Nobody does the hero thing anymore.

Or so I thought.

I changed my tune. Oh, boy, did I change it.

It was the OsCorp Industries' World Unity Festival when I had my first encounter with Spider-Man. And I never forgot that day. I was absolutely terrified.

That was the day Harry had planned to introduce me to his father. Norman Osborn was the richest self-made man in New York, and I was more than a little intimidated at the thought of meeting him. Harry had assured me he was going to love me, but his manner betrayed his own nervousness.

We were standing on the balcony of the huge old building on the edge of Times Square with various VIPs associated with OsCorp. I remember I was wearing a red Chinese silk dress, and Harry was wondering why I hadn't worn my black one. "It's just…I wanted to impress my father. He loves black."

If Norman Osborn is going to like me less because I didn't wear black, I don't think I'm going to like this man much.

I tried to be reassuring. "Well, maybe he'll be impressed no matter what. You think I'm pretty," I reminded him.

"I think you're beautiful," he replied. He leaned forwards and slid his hand over my cheek. I turned away from his kiss; somehow, his affections made me exceedingly uncomfortable.

He squirmed for a moment as I tried to look casually down at the crowd. A moment later, he asked me to go inside with him to retrieve his drink. Who drinks alcohol at a world unity festival? I wondered. Shrugging, I followed him as he made small talk with some of the members on the company's board of directors.

That was when the…excitement…started.

A dark speck, followed by a trail of curling black smoke, came from elsewhere in the city, somewhere amidst the tall buildings. At first, everyone was fascinated, thinking it was a new display of some kind. And it did look that way, for awhile. The figure weaved back and forth, creating a zig-zag with its tail of smoke. The crowd cheered as it approached, nearer and nearer…

Somehow, I knew something wasn't right. The figure swerved around, circling back to the other side of the square, then turning back in our direction.

"What the hell was that?" came Harry's voice beside me. My sentiments exactly.

We both began backing away from the edge of the balcony as the odd-looking shape approached once more, again swerving to avoid the numerous balloons suspended above the square. I felt fear as I had never felt it before, even before the maniacal cackle broke through the engine noise the shape was making. As it got nearer to our perch on the balcony, I could see the general shape of a human, standing on some sort of wing-shaped thing. A shocked voice barely pierced my thoughts. "Oh my g…that's our glider!"

The figure on the glider threw a brightly lit, yellow-orange ball at the building, just under the balcony. I looked down, and almost before I knew what was happening, a massive explosion shook the ground out from under me. Literally.

The portion of the balcony I was standing on cracked and fell partway, leaving me hanging on to the carved railing for dear life. I could see the ground between the sections of wall, and it terrified me how far up I was, sitting on an unstable hunk of rock with nothing stopping my fall but my own weak grip. I felt my portion of the mutilated stone shiver with each renewed explosion, and I wondered when the shaking would stop. I screamed to Harry for help, but he was at the back of the balcony where it met the building, and couldn't reach me—or at least that's what I told myself at the time. Another explosion took out most of the support beam underneath the balcony, and my section became even more slanted, more precarious. I screamed.

The thing, the creature on the glider, came back a third time, cackling wildly—a laugh that sent chills through my body. "Out, am I?" it called menacingly, and threw another projectile, this time orange and green, at the board of directors, which was huddled now at the back of the balcony. I saw a blinding flash of light, a vague impression of skeletons where the board of directors had been, and then nothing. As if no one had ever been there.

I screamed again as the shattered balcony trembled. "Harry!"

"Mary Jane!" he called back, just before a large piece of stone architecture fell, knocking him out. Another yell escaped my lips, my heart raced and I couldn't get enough air into my lungs. In short, I was terrified.

At least, I thought I was. I never knew the meaning of fear, though, until I heard that voice. Dark, raspy, savage. Pure evil.

"Hello, my dear," it said. I turned to look and screamed again. A figure, clad in green armor, was atop the wing. But the mask…oh, the mask. It struck fear into my very soul, a fear I had never even imagined before. Angular, green, with a pointed head, large gaping mouth, and horrible yellow eyes. My screams intensified, ripping from my throat.

I was going to die, and that terrible face was going to be the last image imprinted on my brain.

xxxxx

The last thing I expected at that point was to see another figure fly through the air and knock the Jolly Green Giant off his glider and onto the square below. The green creature beginning to literally throw the policemen off him was less of a surprise, although his strength was remarkable. I had the perfect bird's eye view of the whole fight, and although I was terrified for my life, I could appreciate the notable scene below me. I felt the most amazing hope surge through me as Spider-Man approached the villain and attack; I felt crushing defeat when his punch was blocked, and he himself thrown halfway across the square and into a large metal pole. And again, that uncontrollable fear when the green man jumped back on his glider and began chasing Spider-Man. At this point, they had exited my line of vision, so the next several minutes were extremely nerve-wracking on my part.

Finally, I saw him, my hero, perched on one of the large animal-shaped cloth balloons. The balcony shuddered, and I screamed again. "Somebody please help me!" I cried hoarsely. My screams intensified as the balcony lowered even more, shaking violently and exposing me to the ground below. I almost fell, but managed to hang on. Just barely.

Spider-Man sprung into action. He was flying through the air towards me, and I knew I would finally be safe.

He was intercepted mid-air. Flown straight into a window by the green thing on its glider. I could see bits and pieces of the now broken glass flying down towards me, and bits of the furious struggle between hero and villain. Spider-Man was losing.

His face—or, at least, his mask—appeared suddenly above me. "Hold on!" he yelled to me. Relief surged through me, until I saw the figure hovering behind him. "Watch out!" I screamed at my would-be rescuer.

He turned and shot some kind of sticky stuff into the face of the creature, who responded by putting its hands to its face. The balcony cracked once more, nearly sending me hurtling to the ground eons below. As I looked up at the struggle, I saw Spider-Man hand-spring to the glider and shove his hand up the bottom, where I assumed the engine to be, causing sparks to fly, and the creature flew off, crying, "We'll meet again, Spider-Man!" The words sent shivers down my spine.

Finally, the balcony had had enough. The section I was sitting on cracked right through, and I plummeted to the earth below. Just before impact with the concrete, I felt something warm and solid next to me, and a springing sensation—like the way you feel bungee jumping, I would imagine, just when the bungee cord pulls you back up again—and all of a sudden, I was flying through the air. Or swinging, more accurately. In the arms of the newest hero in New York.

I couldn't open my eyes at first, still full of the terror of almost being killed on impact with that concrete. Spider-Man must have actually jumped off a building to save me…it blew my mind, especially when Harry, who professed to love me, had just stood there…I shook the thought out of my head. There was nothing he could have done, I insisted to myself.

Breathless, relieved, I could hear the cheering crowd below us. But Spider-Man didn't take me to join them. We swung between the buildings for blocks and blocks, speeding through the air, feeling the wind. At first I was afraid, but my fear gave way to exhilaration and disbelief. I finally opened my eyes, automatically looking down in shock, and then turning my attention to the red spandex in front of me, covered in black web patterns.

You know those flying dreams everyone has? Well, this was a hundred times better. For one thing, this was real. I kept on thinking I was going to wake up, but I never did—just kept swinging through the air. And here I was, in the arms of a man who had just saved my life. A strong (and very muscular), capable man.

A man with a sense of humour. "Well, beats taking the subway," he joked after we had alighted on a roof garden, startling the couple on the carved bench.

I was still breathless, panting, and I wasn't sure what to say, even if I could have spoken. Here is the man who pretty much single-handedly kicks bad guy butt and saves damsels in distress, and his voice…he's just a normal guy! I shook my head incredulously and laughed at his wisecrack. After all, what had I been expecting, an impossibly deep voice with a British accent?

I looked over at our audience, who looked rather shocked to find a red-and-blue Spandex-clad man and a redheaded woman in a silk dress 'drop in' on them. "Don't mind us," the man in front of me said to them, "she just needs to use the elevator." I laughed again.

He turned to leave. "Wait!" I cried, stopping him. "Who are you?"

He looked at me. "You know who I am."

My heart jumped. "I do?" I asked quietly.

"Your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man!" he said cheerfully, and leapt off the building. I watched him swing away, heard his cry of exhilaration.

"Wooohooo!"

I didn't actually make it back to my apartment for another hour. I just wandered the streets, wondering about that masked man. He had really managed to pique my curiosity. A superhero, in this day and age? When chivalry and the whole code of honour have pretty much died out? It blew my mind.

And just him, as a person…how did he come to be? And why haven't we heard of him sooner?

Spider-Man, I thought, was a walking—er, swinging—contradiction. He somehow had the maturity to take on the responsibility of protecting the entire city of New York, and yet he could crack silly jokes just like any of her friends. I shook my head, almost not believing it. He was incredible.