In the days that followed, New York became abuzz with news of the mysterious Spider-Woman, who had so suddenly appeared and was now foiling criminal activity all over the city. Before, the news articles had been talking about the strange disappearance of Spider-Man, but now they were all talking about this new masked vigilante who had seemingly taken his place. Crime rates that had risen sharply over the last few months were now just as quickly falling, with many criminals found webbed to lampposts and the like. Rescue services and average citizens also found unexpected aid, such as residents trapped in burning buildings being rescued and taken to safety by a masked woman, dressed in a spider-costume and green hoodie. Many were still trying to work out what they made of this new spider-powered individual, who she was and what her connection to the original Spider-Man was.
However, one man had already made up his mind regarding the new Spider-Woman. In his office at the Daily Bugle, publisher J. Jonah Jameson was busy ranting his thoughts at his weary city editor, Joseph 'Robbie' Robertson, who listened patiently and calmly.
"Another masked menace! That's who this girl is!" fumed Jameson, as he slammed a clenched fist onto the top of his desk. "Just when I dared hope this city was rid of Spider-Man, this new public enemy shows up masquerading as that wall-crawling freak!"
"Now calm down, Jonah," said Robertson soothingly. "You don't know anything about this Spider-Woman. None of us do. She may have nothing to do with Spider-Man."
"Hogwash!" snapped Jameson, jabbing a finger at a photo on the desk, depicting the Spider-Woman swinging through the air on her web-lines. "You can't tell me that this girl simply bought her costume from the same tailor as that web-headed moron! I tell you, those two Spider-Crooks are in cahoots! I'll bet Spider-Man is hiding away, recruiting some kind of Spider-Army to overrun our fair city. Well, I for one won't stand for it! I'll stop those wall-crawling menaces by making the public demand their arrests at once!"
Robbie sighed, all too used to Jameson's attitude towards costumes individuals, particularly Spider-Man. "I'm only your City Editor, Jonah, but I think you're making a grave mistake. Besides, I'm not convinced that Spider-Man is going to make another appearance. Rumour on the street is that he's dead, killed by the Green Goblin, just as poor Peter Parker was."
Jameson's face softened a little at hearing the name of the freelance photographer who had gotten him so many photos of Spider-Man in the past. "Yeah, poor kid. Parker may have been a major pain at times, but he wasn't too bad a guy I guess. How's his girlfriend coping? Hadn't heard much about her since the funeral."
"I think she's doing okay, at least she was last I heard," said Robbie solemnly. "She hasn't exactly had an easy time, you know. First her father was killed, then Peter, and now one of her closest friends turns out to be the Green Goblin, or at least one who had followed in the footsteps of the original. How much grief can one young lady take, that's what I ask myself."
As the two newspaper men considered the woes of young Gwen Stacy, the office door opened and a handsome man in his thirties walked in, dressed in a suit and wearing a pendant with a strange-looking stone around his neck.
"Hi Dad, hope I'm not interrupting anything," said the man to Jameson with a friendly smile. "Thought I'd drop by to pick you up for dinner. It's time you met my fiancée, Kristine Saunders."
"Fiancée? Well, I must say, it's about time!" said Jameson, his normally sour mood replaced by an unusually cheery one. "Come on in, John. You're not disturbing us. We were just finishing, weren't we, Robbie?"
Robertson gave a casual shrug, as he presented the visitor a friendly smile. "If you say so, Jonah. I don't believe I've had the pleasure...?"
"Sorry, Robbie. This is my son, John," replied Jameson, as he introduced John Jameson, famed American astronaut. "John's just retired from astronautics. He was one of the most recent men to make a moon walk. Son, this is Joe Robertson, my city editor."
"Glad to meet you, John," said Robbie, as he warmly shook the hand of his employer's son.
"Same here, Mr Robertson," smiled John. "Dad's said a lot about you."
"Nothing good, I hope, Jonah?" said Robertson, as he shot the Bugle publisher a cheeky look.
"Don't press your luck, Robertson," grumbled Jameson, as he picked up his coat from the hatstand in the corner and slipped it on. "I'll speak to you again later. And don't put in overtime, either. I don't pay a man to argue with me!"
"Jonah, you're all heart!" chuckled Robbie, as Jameson and his son left the office and began to make their way along the hall. As they walked on, Jonah was about to ask his son about this new fiancée of his, when the Bugle publisher noticed two ladies he recognised walking by.
"Why, Miss Stacy, what are you and your friend doing here?" asked Jameson, as Gwen Stacy and Mary Jane Watson were about to walk past.
"Oh hello, Mr Jameson," said Gwen pleasantly. "Miss Watson and I were just on our way to meet Betty Brant."
"Yeah, after we met at Peter's funeral, I thought it would be a swell idea if we got together and hang out a bit more, so we invited her to join us at the Coffee Bean shop during her lunch break," added Mary Jane with her usual cheery smile.
"Hmph! You kids laze around too much!" muttered Jameson. "Mind you, John here wasn't much better when he was your age, isn't that right, son?"
But John Jameson was not listening. He had turned rigid on the spot, his eyes clenched shut as a intense look of pain and anguish formed on his face.
"John?" said Jonah, as he looked at his son in concern.
"Hey, is he okay?" asked Mary Jane anxiously.
Gwen looked at the former astronaut worriedly, and as she did so, she was a little startled as she noticed a faint pulsing glow coming from the unusual pendant around John's neck. Then after a moment, the rock stopped glowing, and John relaxed, his face white and his whole body trembling.
"John! Are you all right, son?" said Jonah in some alarm, having failed to notice the glow as Gwen had.
John took a deep breath and tried to straighten himself up as best he could. "Sorry, Dad. Got a touch of... the flu."
Jameson was surprised by this. "The flu? You'd better take care of yourself, John. It isn't like you to let yourself become ill."
"Like I said, Dad... Sorry. I've been under a strain," muttered John.
"You better listen to your dad and take it easy, sir, if you don't mind me saying so," cut in Gwen. "You didn't look well at all."
Jonah Jameson gave Gwen an approving look. "Thank you, my dear girl. It's nice that at least one person around here agrees with my opinion."
As the two Jamesons continued on their way, Mary Jane shook her head in bafflement. "Well! That was bizarre. That guy must be sicker than he's letting on."
"Hmm, you could be right, MJ," said Gwen thoughtfully. "And did you notice the way his pendant glowed while he was having his fit? Call me paranoid, but there was something about it I didn't like."
"Ahh, let's not let our imaginations get the better of us!" smiled Mary Jane, adopting her usual flighty and carefree facade. "If the guy says it's just a flu, then there's probably nothing else to it. Come on, let's find Betty and get out of this drab place."
As soon as Gwen and Mary Jane found Betty, the three girls made their way over to the 'Coffee Bean', and after finding a comfortable booth to sit at, they were soon chatting away, remembering old friends and some of the scrapes they had gone through. Often, the topic of discussions tended to veer towards Spider-Man, but Gwen managed to balance things out by telling MJ and Betty about some of the stuff her Dad did for the police force before he retired, which she herself had occasionally helped out with. Then, the conversation moved on to some of the things the ladies had been doing more recently, with Betty saying how she was finally tying the knot with her boyfriend, Ned Leeds.
"The wedding is set for August next year," continued Betty. "I know that I don't know you guys as well as Peter did, but I'd really appreciate it if you two would be able to come as well."
"Thanks Betty, that sounds swell to me," grinned Mary Jane, always up for a party. "Don't you think so, Gwen?"
Gwen nodded. "Yeah, I'd be up for coming. Congrats again, Betty. I really wish you and Ned all the best."
As the girls finished their food and coffee, it was time for Betty to head back to work, and for Gwen and Mary Jane to go to ESU for their next respective classes. After saying goodbye to Betty and promising to keep in touch, Gwen and Mary Jane made their way along the streets, with a quiet Gwen looking deep in thought and a little sad.
"Hey, Gwendolyne, what's with the downbeat look?" asked Mary Jane as she noticed her friend's sombre mood.
"Oh, sorry, MJ," said Gwen with an apologetic smile. "It's just that... Talking to Betty about her upcoming wedding reminded me of how much I used to hope that Peter would propose to me. I think we both were hoping to get married, maybe even have some kids, but there always seemed to be something to stand in the way, hold things back. And now it's far too late. I guess I'm just hoping that Betty and Ned's happiness doesn't get wrecked too."
"Ah, cheer up, Gwendy. I know things have been rough, but Peter wouldn't have wanted you to keep being this broody," said Mary Jane, trying her best to raise her friend's spirits.
"Yeah, I know I shouldn't wallow in self-pity," replied Gwen. "But sometimes it feels like my whole world is falling apart. Dad and Peter are both gone now, Harry's in an institution, and just the other day, I've heard that Professor Warren's suffered some kind of breakdown, after his assistant had a fatal accident or something. It's like that everything that can go wrong in life is doing so all at once and all the people close to me are caught in the middle!"
"Well, look at it this way," said Mary Jane. "The way things are going, they can't possibly get any more wacko then they are now!"
But alas, Mary Jane Watson was wrong, for several hours later, that very evening, a scene of utter horror was about to unfold at offices of the Daily Bugle. It was coming up to closing time and everyone was busy packing up and getting ready to head home, when there came the piecing sound of shattering glass from J. Jonah Jameson's office, followed by terrified screams and the blood-curdling cry of what sounded like some wild animal.
"What the hell...?" exclaimed one of the assistant editors, as everyone present all leapt from their desks and dashed over to the office door. Joseph Robertson flung the door open to see what the trouble was and his face turned white with shock. What he saw was a nightmarish scene he would never be able to forget. The glass window had been shattered, broken glass spread out all over the floor, along with the remains of various pieces of furniture, smashed to pieces like matchwood. And on the centre of the carpeted floor, spread out in a crumpled and bloodied heap, was J. Jonah Jameson, his entire body ravaged with claws marks, a look of utter fear on his face.
But the most horrifying thing of all was the shaggy, snarling figure standing over the prone body. It stood tall like a man and wore some kind of yellow and green uniform. But it had the head and body of a wolf, complete with grey fur, sharp claws, fearsome fangs and hideous piercing red eyes that stared right back at the terrified onlookers. As he took in this figure that looked as if it had come straight out of a monster movie, Robertson realised that this creature was wearing no costume, and for the first time in his life, the Bugle's city editor knew the true meaning of fear.
For a few seconds that seemed more like an eternity, everyone stood rigid on the spot, too shocked to know how to react. Then, the Wolf-Man gave a snort, before leaping back out through the window and vanishing into the night, giving a loud howl as it did so.
As Robertson pulled himself together and rushed over to his fallen employer's side, Betty Brant managed to find the willpower to speak:
"Mr Robertson, is Mr Jameson... Is he...?"
"He's alive," said Robbie grimly after checking the barely breathing Jameson's pulse. "But only just. Betty, call an ambulance, then get the police here, fast!"
As Betty rushed to the phone, Robertson looked back at the shattered window and gazed at the city outside, his mind full of questions. What was that monstrous beast and why did it just try to kill Jonah Jameson?
TO BE CONTINUED!