Chapter 13: (UN)Lucky Number 13
"Pier 13..."
Spider-Man landed gracefully on top of the warehouse overlooking New York harbor and Pier 13.
"Lucky number 13." Fluent in sarcasm, he shook his head and blew a deep breath between his pursed lips. "Brace yourself, Spidey. This is going to be one Hell of a ride."
He lowered his body closer to the warehouse rooftop, listening for any sign of the culprits or Mary Jane. He closed his eyes, focusing hard on any sounds that might lead him to the red-haired beauty or the bald slug, otherwise affectionately known as The Kingpin. After a few moments of intense concentration, he canceled out the sound of the water lapping against the harbor walls and the sound of the boats rubbing against the side of the pier... leaving only the sound of a woman's tortured screams echoing from within the warehouse.
He jerked his head up, heart sinking to the pit of his empty stomach.
"Be rational, be rational," His words trembled as adrenaline coursed through his limbs. He stood and began to soundlessly pace the warehouse rooftop, fingertips laced and resting upon his masked head. "Be rational... Damnit, be rational, Spidey!"
Without even an inkling of a plan, Spider-Man ran full-speed to the edge of the rooftop then leapt off, turning his body to face the building as he plummeted.
Anger fueling him onwards, he growled under his breath as he reached up and slung out a webline. The webline attached itself to the corner of the roof and with the other end securely grasped in both hands, he used the swinging momentum to kick out a window with both feet. The momentum carried him through the window and once he was within the confines of the warehouse walls, he let go of the webline and let himself drop two stories onto the crude cement floor. He crouched as he landed, one knee down and both palms pressed onto the floor in front of him, dispersing the impact of the fall throughout his entire body. Although his head was down, he felt the glittering shards of glass raining over and around his bowed head.
Milliseconds passed. His spidey-sense sounded the alarm and as it always did, time slowed down to a mere crawl.
Click-click: the sound of AK-47's being cocked back.
Click-BOOM: the sound of AK-47's being fired.
Spider-Man turned his face upwards to see a fiery explosion from each barrel of the six AK's as a reign of bullets emerged, intent on striking him down. His quadriceps tensed then released and he sprung high into the air, missing each bullet by centimeters. Midair, he flicked his wrists towards the guns and a thick line of webbing with the tensile strength of titanium covered the mouth of the barrels, clogging them. Spider-Man landed gracefully.
"So much for rational." He murmured beneath his breath as he calmly walked towards The Kingpin's henchmen. Unsuccessfully, he tried to stop the chuckles bubbling from his throat as the henchmen struggled to pull the sticky webbing from their guns.
"You won't be needing those anymore," With a couple flicks of the wrist, Spider-Man used his webbing to pull each gun from the henchmen then individually broke them upon his raised knee. Just as he broke the last gun and let its pieces tumble to the floor, his spidey-sense again began to sound the alarm.
He glanced up to attempt to find the origin of alarm.
On the far end of the warehouse, high upon a platform, stood Mary Jane. The Kingpin stood beside her, arms folded over his bloated stomach, a wretched smirk firmly placed upon his pug-like face. Mary Jane screamed out in pain, the cause of which was unbeknownst to Spider-Man. She continued to scream, tears streaming down her cheeks, back arching against the pipe she had been handcuffed to.
"MJ," Spider-Man whispered, taking a step towards her, momentarily forgetting his surroundings or the spidey-sense that continued to gnaw upon his nerve-endings.
"Not so fast." It was a woman's voice speaking from behind him. He felt someone grab his arm then forcefully wrench him around to face them. "...Why, if it isn't the itsy-bitsy spider."
Spider-Man looked into the face of a corpse; a woman with skin a pale purple, lips a deep burgundy, eyes and hair as black as coal. This was the reason for the alarm. But why?
She was certainly dressed like a super-villain: tight vinyl leotard revealing ample cleavage (a brief observation that Spider-Man quickly passed over), a gold belt slung low over her hips and vinyl stiletto boots.
"Who are you?" Spider-Man hesitated, a dire mistake he would later regret.
Her left eye emitted a strange golden light and before he could act, the strange woman had placed her palm against his chest. An onslaught of painful memories blurred his vision, immobilizing him. The onslaught of memories continued until one was chosen above the rest... Uncle Ben's head cradled in Peter Parker's lap, the night he was gunned down by an errant robber.
It was just a glimpse but the memory was real enough to cause Spider-Man to gasp out in turmoil, stumbling back from the strange woman. She grinned, left eye glowing brighter.
"I'm your worst nightmare, Spider-Man."
Still stunned from the memory, Spider-Man wasn't quick enough to dodge the blast of supersonic energy emitted from the woman's closed fists. His body flew backwards, arms flailing to their own accord.
As unconsciousness threatens to overwhelm him, the Spider curses the weakness of the Man within the suit... and yet, paradoxically, is grateful that he's there...
To Be Continued...
Author's Note: While I see that a lot of people are reading the story, I'm not getting very much feedback :( Even if it's just one word, let me know what you think. I'll even (gratefully!) accept "crap" as your one-word answer. Puh-leaseeee?
Okay, so, here's my compromise: Four reviews (even small ones) will get you Chapter 14. If you want to see what happens next, let me know :)