Disclaimer: Like seriously

Back from church camp which was AMAZING. Lol and I now realize I kinda led y'all on in the ending of the last chapter...hehe. Hope you enjoy this one anyways :)

Chapter 8

Twelve hours earlier

"They were defeated as well, huh?"

A large man stood by a wide window, watching his city purr chaotically far below. A glass of red wine rested delicately in his palm, which he swirled about and took a small sip from.

"Spider-Man is a more formidable adversary than I initially predicted," he mused, drumming his fingers against his leg. A grin spread across his face. "But I suppose that makes our efforts all the more worthwhile."

He took a pretty harsh beating from the pair, though, Lincoln assured him through the phone. Toomes and O'Hirn alone almost overpowered him. Just imagine when we add the others into the mix.

"The others are still being developed as we speak, so it might take a little more time before they're battle ready. My remaining ally inside Oscorp has provided my scientists with some new specimens developed during their bioelectric energy studies, so Maxwell's transformation should be happening soon enough. My team is also helping Beck create new formulas and instruments for his theatrics, and after our little visit to S.H.I.E.L.D's weapons facility in Atlanta, Otto has everything he needs to complete his devices. Soon enough, everything will fall into place, and my team will become unstoppable."

It was a beautiful thing he was creating: a group of purposefully designed assassins suited to eliminate anything that got in his way. He couldn't wait to test them out on Spider-Man, although now that he had survived the second wave of attacks, he wanted all the more to drag this out for as long as possible, to enjoy it, to savor every second of his enemy's despair, which caused his eyes to wander to the glass box sitting in the center of the table.

"With the rest of the Avengers busy dealing with the other troubles we're stirring, Spider-Man is exposed. I sent out the twins not long after the fight began. From what I've seen our 'Scarlet Witch' do thus far, she has a truly astounding gift for torture and insight. I ordered her to try and follow Spider-Man after the battle and to reap his identity from his mind. Once I have that information in my grasp, the possibilities for breaking him down piece by piece are truly endless. Add that to the fact that she'll also be tormenting him constantly in every way she knows how, Spider-Man will be nothing by the time my team is ready."

Might I ask why you don't have her just kill him in his sleep? Lincoln inquired.

"Like you said before, Tombstone: our people don't just want him dead. We want him to suffer for the crimes he's committed against us. Killing him that way would be far too merciful. By the time we're through with him, we want him to be begging for death." He grinned savagely. "I eagerly await to hear all that the twins have to report."

Tombstone bit back his irritation. Why the hell couldn't they just kill the bastard whenever they had the chance? He wanted Spider-Man to suffer more than anybody, as it was he who had destroyed his life's work, but he was more than ready to see the body by now. All this extra stuff his boss was tacking on was childish and dangerous. He wanted this to be over already so they could focus on rebuilding their empire. Still, he kept silent.

Shultz's suit has been repaired and upgraded, and O'Hirn and Toomes are being dealt with at headquarters. I'll keep you updated on their progress.

"And I'll keep you posted on the development of the rest of my pawns. Stay in touch."

Yes sir.

Hanging up the phone, the man found himself alone once again in his quarters. Alone, except for the creature writhing inside the box in the center of his table. He strolled up to the glass container, watching it roll and squirm with sluggish movements. With his thumb and forefinger, he plucked a chunk of steak off his plate and slipped it under the lid. Instantly, the black sludge devoured it, striking like a serpent and ravenously swallowing the meat. He watched the creature feed with fervent excitement, his fingers weaving together against the dark wood.

"Patience, my venomous friend. Your time will come soon enough."

A trail of bloody bandages followed the teen as he flew like lightning above the city. He didn't care that he looked ridiculous. He didn't care that every movement hurt like hell. The only thing that mattered to him in that moment was his aunt's safety.

Somebody he didn't know had called him on Aunt May's phone. She knew who he was, and she was at his house right now. She claimed that May was fine and that she was only trying to warn him of something, but he didn't give a damn. He just needed to get home. He had to get home.

By the time he arrived in his neighborhood, he was exhausted and desperate. When his apartment finally came into view, he dropped from his web and scrambled like a madman on to the porch. He burst through the doorway and stumbled into the house, sweating and gasping and his head swiveling from side to side. He ripped his mask off his face. "Aunt May! Are you here?"

No one answered. Fear and anger burned in his chest as he sped down the hall. "Whoever's in this house, if you don't show yourself right now, I'm going to—"

He went stiff as soon as he stepped into the living room. A body was laid out on the couch with a blanket spread over it. He could see a head with wispy gray hair peaking out at the end. He was at her side in an instant.

"Aunt May? Aunt May, are you okay?" He carefully rolled her head to the side and saw that her eyes were closed. She was unresponsive. "Answer me! What happened to you? Who did this this to you?"

"Calm down, Peter. She is only asleep."

Peter whirled around. A woman was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She didn't look that much older than him. She had long, copper-brown hair and wore a black dress with a red bomber jacket on top. Her fingers were embellished with intricate rings and black leather cuffs encircled her wrists. She had dark, mysterious eyes that appeared fearful yet strangely soft. Peter's hands curled into fists.

"Why won't she wake up? What did you do to her?"

"I hypnotized her. So she would stay asleep."

"What the hell does that mean? Did you drug her? Did you poison my aunt?"

"No. I did not."

"Who are you? Why did you break into my house?"

She took a careful step forward, holding her hands out in front of herself. "Just allow me to explain."

"Tell me why you're here!" he shouted, striding towards her. She had about three seconds to talk before he started beating an answer out of her.

"I just wanted to help," she stated offendedly. Strange red flares were sparking from her fingers. "I needed to speak to you alone. Without my brother or anyone else around. I did not know how else to contact you."

"Ever heard of emailing? Texting? Sending a damn letter? How did you even find this place? How do you know who I am?" He stopped right in front of her, poised to attack. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

A blast of energy suddenly struck him in the chest, sending him flying backwards and crashing to the floor. At the same time, a wave of horrible images flashed through his mind, the same images that had haunted him the night before. It only lasted an instant, but left him shell-shocked and gasping on the carpet. He tried to get up, but it felt like something was weighing on top of him and keeping him from moving.

"Stop yelling," she commanded sternly, holding out her hand as she walked to stand over him. "Listen to what I have to say."

Peter's chest rose up and down as he fought to catch his breath. "The nightmare," he coughed, blinking his eyes rapidly. "I—I saw it. But how could—does that mean—are you the one—?"

"Ask one more question without giving me time to answer and I choke you," she snapped, placing a hand on her hip. "You are starting to make me regret sparing your life."

"Then start talking! Explain everything that's going on! Like the fact that I can't move!" He fought to lift his heavy limbs from the floor, but the red light shrouded around his body seemed to be holding him still. The woman took a slow breath before continuing.

"I have powers. I can manipulate energy and use it to my advantage. You were freaking out, so I am using my powers to hold you there until you calm down."

"I am calm," he growled under his breath. "But how did you expect me to react to finding some psycho lady in my apartment who broke in without permission, knocked out my aunt with her freaky mystical powers, and called me like a creep on her cellphone?"

Her eyebrows were knitted crossly. "I did it because I had to tell you about the people who are trying to kill you."

"A lot of people are trying to kill me. Still debating whether or not you're on that list."

"If I had wanted you dead you would already be. Back in that ugly tower, as you slept on the couch."

Peter let his head fall back against the floor, giving in to the fact that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "So it was you, then. You're the one who tortured me with nightmares for an entire freaking day and wouldn't let me wake up?" He was partially glad that they hadn't been some freakish concoction of his own mind, but at the same time was unsettled by their true source. He swallowed painfully, his voice shaking. "You're sick and cruel, you know that?"

"I assure you I did not want to do it. It brought me no happiness to see you in pain."

"Then why did you do it? And how were you able to make it all so...personal? So realistic?"

The woman sighed quietly, then sat down on the floor beside his head, rubbing at her hands as they rested in her lap. "I was, um...I was told to do it. By a powerful man. The man who hired my brother and I after our experiments in Sokovia. That is why we have powers, and how I was able to hurt you like that."

Peter understood about 23% of the words coming out of her mouth, but a certain phrase stuck out to him. "Hired you? Are you telling me some other jerk wad out there knows who I am too?"

"No. Just myself. The man told me I needed to find Spider-Man and torment him to the point of madness." Her voice fell slightly. "He also wanted me to figure out all of your personal information. Identity, loved ones, home address—I am able to extract it from inside a person's mind. That is why I know everything about you."

"Well, isn't that...disturbing," he murmured. "Does this boss of yours come off to you as the raging, pervert, stalker-type? 'Cause that's the vibe I'm picking up."

"You do not understand. He is dangerous. He sent me to hurt you, and he wants to know about you so he can hurt you even more." Her gaze dropped to the floor. "I have helped him hurt lots of people, Peter. I have helped him tear people's lives apart. I'd prefer not to see the same happen to you."

Peter eyed her suspiciously. "Why not? What's so special about me?"

Her unreadable facial expression remained unwavering. "You are not like the others. They had darkness inside of them and deserved to suffer. Your heart is good and your values are pure." She fiddled with her rings as she spoke, making them float off her fingers and spin through the air. "I suppose I am not one to talk, but after clawing through the minds of so many terrible people in service to my boss, I can easily distinguish a good man from a bad one. And from what I saw in you, I know you have already been through a lot of pain in your life, even though you are still young. It did not feel right to make you hurt more."

Peter chuckled resentfully. "Well, I hope you aren't expecting a thank you out of me."

"Every other person the boss has ordered me to finish I have, except you. I showed you a mercy no one else has been offered. All the rest I have tortured to the point of insanity. So yes, a little gratitude would be appreciated."

"Love to break it to you: you aren't getting any out of me. If it wasn't painfully obvious to you by now, let me be clear: it's not healthy to expect people to thank you for not jacking with their brains until they lose their marbles, even if it's become a regular hobby of yours. You're just setting yourself for disappointment."

The girl suddenly loomed over him with her hands flat against the floor on either side of his head and her face startlingly close to his. "Listen here, Peter Parker: I stuck out my neck for you because I did not think you deserved the horrible things my boss is planning for you. And, well, maybe part of it was because I was sick of taking orders from him like a lapdog, because that was not what my brother and I signed up for. I did not feel it was necessary to harm you to complete my mission, so I did not see the point in doing so. But now I've..." She stopped suddenly, her voice breaking somewhat. "I've put myself in real danger. As well as my brother. I did not consider the consequences that much initially, for I had never disobeyed before. It was not until I returned to his presence and he started demanding that I tell him everything that I had learned about you that I realized the error of my ways. I could not bring myself to spill your secrets because I knew what he would do to you, and trust me: it would be far worse than what you are going through already. I told him I had not been able to track you down, but that excuse will not last forever. If he finds out the truth..." In that moment, raw terror flashed behind her irises. Her eyes grew red and wet, and she sat back down to rub at the goosebumps that had flared along her arms as a shivery gasp escaped her lips. "I did not realize what kind of man he truly was until now. The kind of person my brother and I have found ourselves enslaved under. And unless I turn you into him, I dare not think of how he will punish us."

Tears began to gather in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, her face returning to a steely mask. Peter realized she was no longer holding him down with her witchy powers and slowly sat upright. He tried at first to not let her distress affect him, but he could tell at the very least that her fear was sincere. Eventually he caved and released an exasperated sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry you're going through that crap. Big, mean, mentally compromised boss who will bite your head off if you don't do your job: trust me, been there, and unfortunately, still doing that. But if this guy is really as bad as you say he is and is making you creep on me and hurt people and stuff, then why bother working for him? I don't know what he's paying you, but I seriously doubt it's worth all this."

"I am not working for money," she snapped quickly, crossing her arms against her stomach. "My brother and I wanted to come to your stupid country on our own mission, but the men who experimented on us said we had to work beneath F—I mean, our boss—in order to be able to. He insists all the evil he does is cohesive with our desires, but I know that is not true."

Peter huffed irritably. "Alright, this is all too cryptic for me. Who the hell is this boss of yours? I need a name. This asshole sounds like type of guy who needs a few roundhouse kicks to the keister from your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

The color in her face seemed to drain away in an instant. "I cannot tell you."

He narrowed his brow. "Why not?"

"We do not say his name."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Everyone."

Peter snorted. "What, is it embarrassing? Like Afro Squeezeweasel II? A kid in my middle school had that name. I'm pretty sure he's in jail now."

"He will murder you and everyone you care about if you speak his name to anyone."

"This sounds like a ghost story you'd tell around a campfire," Peter laughed. "Seriously, is this boss of yours for real?"

"He's the one who has been sending those crazy men after you."

His smile faltered. "Crazy men?"

"The yellow one, the flying one, and the one in...um...dinosaur armor?"

Peter shot to his feet. "What?"

"He funds scientists and costume designers and weapons engineers to make them."

"You're telling me your boss is the same boss of the freak-trio sent to kill me?"

"That was what I was trying to warn you about."

He shook his head in disbelief, jarred by this alarming news, then stooped back down to her level. "Listen, lady, whoever you are—"

"Wanda," she said, although there was hesitance in her voice. "My name is Wanda."

"—Wanda. If you're telling the truth, you have to understand how terrible this guy really is, and why he needs to be stopped. Not just for me—for everyone. I've watched his men murder people for sport and destroy my city for giggles. Are you going to just sit by and let that happen?"

"I am not like you, Peter," she retorted coldly, staring down at her hands. "I do not fret over the suffering of others. Most of the time, I enjoy it. I am not a heroic or good or even decent human being. Do not expect me to pity his victims."

"You pitied me," he pointed out, his voice soft, "and that means something. It means you have good inside you, whether you choose to admit it or not. Is there any chance you could harness all that inner goodiness and channel it towards giving me your boss's name? It would give me a chance to stop him, and maybe to set you free."

Slowly Wanda lifted her head to stare directly into his eyes, her gaze fierce and stony. "Do you know why I came to your stupid country, Peter? Do you know why my brother and I subjected ourselves to horrendous experiments in order to gain powers, and chose to become a murderer's loyal henchmen?"

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Peter shook his head. Wanda leaned towards him threateningly.

"Because we want to kill Tony Stark. Him along with all the rest of the Avengers."

It took a moment for him to process her words. He blinked in surprise, and felt himself begin to sweat beneath her earnest, drilling glare.

"Oh. Well, um...okay. I've—I've got to be real and say I wasn't expecting that." He scratched at the back of his head and forced a nervous laugh. "Why, uh…why?"

"Tony Stark's weapons killed our parents and destroyed our country. He was this close to claiming our lives as well. The man and his team flaunt about in their colorful garbs and call themselves heroes, yet they are responsible for the death and suffering of so many innocent people. They deserve to perish."

"Uh huh..." he mumbled skittishly, watching tongues of red flare from her fists. Peter knew Tony's past wasn't pretty: marred with narcism, alcoholism, and corrupted, under-the-table sort of negotiations within his old weapons company Stark Industries that led to dangerous men getting their hands on his tech and lots of people getting hurt. It wasn't surprising that many still held grudges towards him for the suffering his ignorance caused, but Peter hadn't considered just how serious some of those grudges could be. He realized there were probably lots of people out there like Wanda, although perhaps not this determined.

"Is this a bad time to mention that I'm an Avenger too?" he whispered timidly as she leaned back on her haunches, eyes hostile. "And that those guys are kinda sorta maybe my friends?"

"I realized there was no need to kill you after I met you, even if you identified with those wretches. But I do not understand why you are friends with them; they carry only death and destruction wherever they go. The world will be a better place once they are gone."

"Maybe you should meet the rest of them before you decide to, you know, murder them and stuff," he suggested. "If you ended up liking someone like me, you'd absolutely adore the likes of Natasha, Steve, Bruce, Thor, and Clint. Tony—well, he might take a little extra hang time, but underneath that shell of flashy arrogance and armored dickery, he's really a cool guy."

"My brother and I are going to kill all of them Peter. Do not try to convince me otherwise. Just be grateful I am sparing your life, and stay out of my way."

In that moment, she stood rapidly from the floor and began marching towards the exit, her movements fluid and her fingers coiled. Startled, Peter rose to his feet behind her, clenching his fists at his sides.

"You do realize I'm not just going to sit by and let you do that, right? I can't let you do that. Just like I can't let this boss of yours keep terrorizing my city."

Wanda stopped before entering the hallway, her hand resting against the wall. "I came to warn you about my boss, Peter, and that I did. My life is at risk because I am trying to preserve yours. But whether you choose to throw it away trying to protect those monsters is not my concern. We are going to make them pay for their atrocities, and I will not pity you again if you try and stop me." She took a single step forward, her long nails gliding along the ancient paint, then stopped once more. Curling her lips into an innocent smile, Wanda turned back around to face him, the dark pupils of her eyes rimmed with flickering energy. "Although, if what I have seen of my boss's plan is true, it is likely that you will be dead before the rest of them have even met their graves. If I were you, Peter Parker, I would sleep with one eye open."

Then she strolled out of his house, her long hair whipping in the summer air and her arms swinging at her sides. Peter was left standing in the living room of his apartment with a worried heart and a puzzled mind.

Wow. Hard to get a read on that one, he thought apprehensively, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. First she wants to kill me, then she tortures me, then she doesn't want to kill me, then she breaks into my house to explain why she doesn't want to kill me, then she tells me she works for a guy who's trying to kill me, then she wants to kill my friends, and now—hell, I don't even know anymore. So on top of everything that was already running a muck in his life, there was also the issue of a bipolar witch lady possibly plotting to murder his team. This was turning out to be one of the most confusing days of his life.

And it wasn't even noon yet.

I haven't even finished the next chapter but already I can tell you I really really real real like it :D and that's not in an awww it's so cute sorta way it's more of a muhahaha evil sort of way ;) hope you all feel the same when you read it! Critique, comment, or question in the reviews maybe? :)