The Spider Pt. 06

Big Fitz also pulled out his gun, scared, not sure what was happening. Thoughts of ambush were running through his head, terror at the unknown, the dark, the Koreans.

Terror of Red Eyes.

Big Fitz looked behind him, looking for help from his own crew, making sure his boys had his back.

But they weren't there. No one was there. Fitz was all alone.

He turned to John, and pointed his pistol, hand shaking in fear.

"Where are my boys, asshole? If this is some kind of a trap I swear I will fuck you up so bad- "

A shot rang out in the warehouse, deafening in the emptiness. Big Fitz fell to his knees, then onto his face, blood running out of a hole in the center of his beady eyes. Carlos kept his eyes on Fitz long enough to see that his shot had killed the wannabe Irish mobster, then Carlos resumed keeping his eyes on the perimeter of the warehouse again.

John looked around wildly. Gunther stepped forward and put a hand between John's shoulder blades, guiding John towards the back of the warehouse, where the floor manager's office had been.

"Back here, boss," Gunther was telling him. "Remember the plan. I've got to get you back to the office."

John let the man guide him, push him, his feet shuffling in shock.

"Carlos," Gunther yelled over his shoulder. "Carlos, get the big lights on- flood this place with light. Flush the bitch out."

Gunther started pushing John towards the office, faster this time.

The lights didn't go on. Carlos did not answer. The big lights would not be going on.

John and Gunther were about halfway to the office, but they knew they wouldn't make it.

Gunther stopped, and turned back around. After a step or two without Gunther's hand guiding him, John did the same.

The Spider lowered herself silently from the shadows of the ceiling, from the blackness high above, slowly, like an avenging angel in no particular hurry. She landed on the concrete in a crouch, and drew herself up to her full height. She pointed a finger at John.

John had never been so scared in his life.

Gunther pulled his pistol out of his coat, and leveled it at the Spider.

Her hand flickered in the darkness, faster than the eye could see, and John heard metal on metal as the Spider's boomerang hit Gunther's gun. John heard the gun skitter away into the darkness.

"Get to the office, boss," Gunther said coolly, massaging his hurt hand with his other one. "I'll handle this woman."

John turned and ran.

He made it to the floor manager's office door, a rickety wooden contraption, and swung it open and stepped inside. To his back was a broad window, where the manager would have looked out onto the floor back when the warehouse was a buzzing place of business.

John stepped in, slamming the flimsy door behind him.

"She's coming," John said to the man there, panting in fear and out of breath. "She's coming."

"We're ready for this," the man in the darkness said. "Just let me take care of the Spider. I know all about the Spider."

Both John and the man heard Gunther cry out in the emptiness of the warehouse. John knew that the fight had been brief, and that it was over exactly as John knew it would be. Gunther had bought John the time he needed.

But would it be enough?

******************************

The Spider stepped over Gunther, the man's blood pooling at her feet. She made her way to the office, put her hand on the door handle, and ripped the door off the hinges. She stepped into the office. It was time to disappear Just John.

"Hello, Spider," she heard him say. "I'm very sorry about this. Say hello to an old friend."

The Spider frowned. She felt a presence she hadn't felt in a long time. How had she missed this?

"Hello, Spider," the Mercenary said, stepping out from where he had been stationed this evening, flexing his robotic arm. His eye slit glowed red and cruel in his helmet. "I've been waiting for this for a long time."

She shook her head, raised her hand up, and pulled herself up into the rafters. She knew better than to end up in his grips. The Spider faded into the darkness, past where human sight could go.

"I'm not drugged this time," she said from above. "This time I will end you."

The Mercenary looked up into the darkness. She caught a glimpse of a flash of red light, and then he raised his metal arm and pointed it at her. The wood next to her exploded.

He could see in the dark, she realized.

She leapt from one rafter beam over to another.

"You can't hurt me," the Mercenary told her from below. "I can hurt you. I'm going to break you into little pieces, as soon as I drag you down from there."

The rafter she had leapt to exploded as the Mercenary fired another blast of energy from his robot arm. She was falling.

She threw out a filament of her webbing, caught hold of what she hoped was a strong beam, and swung herself to safety again.

She looked down, and saw the Mercenary rotating his helmet around, the glowing red slit in his helmet looking for her. That was where he'd installed the night vision lens in his helmet, she realized.

There was barely a moment for her to think about it. She was about to take a gamble against the only foe that had ever beaten her.

She took her hand, and wadded up her entire amount of webbing into a tight ball. There would be no more webbing after this, she realized, she had already use up most of it with the other goons in the main room earlier. If she didn't do what she needed to do, there would be no safety in the rafters. She would have to come down and fight him one on one.

And she didn't know if she could do that.

She wadded up her webbing and lobbed it over a far rafter, in a long arc towards the Mercenary. She needed to keep his optical lens exactly where she wanted it.

Which meant that she needed to take a shot. The force of his arm blaster slammed into her like a sledgehammer, smashing her back into the rafters, breaking them, and sending her crashing down floor.

She landed with a grunt of pain, and laid there out of breath for a several moments. Finally, she struggled to her knees, then to her feet.

She looked over at John as she did so. He looked nervous, and pensive, almost... concerned as he watched her struggle to get up.

The Spider rose to her feet, and looked over at the Mercenary. His night vision optical was now completely covered up by her webbing, he was trying to rip the adhesive off and failing. His mechanical arm was clanking against his helmet as he tried to get a grip on the webbing that was now obscuring the optical outlay.

She took a deep breath, squared her feet on the floor. She waited for the pain to pass. She wasn't sure how hurt she had been in the fall.

Finally, with a scream of rage, the Mercenary ripped his entire helmet off.

The Spider simply stood there, watching him. This is what she hoped would happen.

"Fucking bitch," the Mercenary yelled, and threw his now useless helmet at her. She kicked it away, and raised her fists up to her chin. She stretched out one hand, and beckoned him to her.

Come to me.

And so he did. He lowered his head into his shoulders, and charged full speed towards her. He raised his power assisted arm up as he did, firing another blast towards her, missing, making a small crater in the concrete floor.

She stood there, fists up, waiting for him to engage her. He raised his power arm, and prepared to swing full force into her, a blow that could knock a car over onto its side, smash through a concrete wall, crush a human skull with no effort.

But she wasn't there. He swung into nothing but air. In the blink of an eye, she simply... vanished.

Not for long, though. She lowered herself to the ground, and spun around the big man, throwing out a foot faster than he could see, crushing his kneecap.

He howled in agony, and fell to the ground. His face contorted in pain as he struggled to get back to his feet.

"You can't run forever," he whispered hoarsely, and raised his power arm to fire his blaster at her again.

But she was ready for him. Instead of running away, she leapt directly at him for the first time, springing in a high arc through the air, landing directly in front of the Mercenary.

She crouched underneath him, and sprung up, pushing his arm back towards himself as she did so. As she hoped, his rage and hatred for her blinded him, he fired his blaster directly into his own chest.

The force of the shot sent him flying backwards. The Spider leapt again, landing directly next to the Mercenary as he struggled to get up. She could see streaks of electricity shooting randomly across his chest armor and his power assisted arm.

She watched him struggle to return to a sitting position. He tried to return to his feet, pushing himself up by his robot arm. He collapsed again into the floor of the warehouse.

His arm is out of commission, she thought. It's useless.

She stood up, standing over the defeated man. He glared up at her, struggling to get to his feet, weighed down by his now useless arm and heavy armor. He was breathing heavily, hoarsely.

He stared at her, and opened his mouth, but she never knew what he might have said.

She spun around with a high kick, and caught the Mercenary directly in the face. He collapsed with a wet thump, beaten, unconscious.

The Spider stood there for a second, watching the Mercenary, making sure he was no further threat. Her body was tight, and electric wire, her hands flexing over and over again in her claw tipped gloves.

"Thank God," she heard John say behind her. "I thought he might actually beat you again."

She turned around to face John, cold, tense, ready. She prepared herself to take one more leap and remove John as a threat to the City forever.

"Are you ready?" she asked him. "The Spider is about to take your dreams away."

He hoped her was ready. He was very aware that she could end him in the blink of an eye. He hoped he was able to do what he needed to do. If this didn't work...

She disappears me, he thought.

"Stop," he told her, and held up his hand gently. "Just stop. It doesn't have to be this way."

She stood there, her eyes obscured by the white eye coverings in her mask, her claws clenching and unclenching, breathing heavily, able to destroy him in the blink of an eye. She stood there, tense and coiled, ready to strike with a speed that no man could comprehend.

"I want you to listen to me," he told her. "Listen to me, and be open to what I say."

He reached out from deep within himself. He had to do this exactly right. It was possible for him to force himself into someone, but that had its dangers, and could just as easily leave her too damaged to be of any use to him.

But she could end him without barely thinking about it, also.

She didn't know why she just stood there. She simply... did. She felt heavy, tired. She felt a presence around her, circling her, probing at far away perimeters far outside of herself.

"Good," he was saying. "Good. A lot of people can resist me, to some degree or the other. A lot of people can't be opened."

He closed his eyes tight, and sent more of himself out, circling the Spider, looking for a way in.

"You aren't one of them. You can't resist me, Spider," he told her, finding small openings in her psyche, trying them, pushing in gently, then retreating. "We are the exact opposites, you and I. You have the ability to open yourself up, to expand yourself out, and take the world in."

He pushed out further, found an opening, and sent himself in. He heard her gasp, quietly, surprised at a feeling she had never felt before.

"But I find ways in," John went on. "That's what I can do. I find ways in to people, Little Spider. Can you feel me?"

She could. She felt him pushing at her, pushing at her mind, her soul, she didn't know what. But he was pushing at her, and he was getting in. She tensed herself, ready to spring at him, get her hands around him, break his neck...

"No," he told her. "No. You won't be doing that. Open up, Little Spider. Open up and let me in."

Suddenly, she felt him open up a part of her, and all of a sudden, he was in. She felt resistances that she didn't know she had falling away, and parts of her that she had never considered before open up in ways that she didn't know could be opened.

Her belly quivered as he slid past her and into her, deeper, and deeper. She felt herself opened up, in more places now, him pushing past her, more and more.

She felt him make one big push, at what she might have called the center of herself, if she had ever thought of it before. He pushed in, he found resistance, and the part of him that was pushing into her mind flowed around her resistance, encompassed it, washed over it.

Her hips bucked a little bit. It felt good... it felt so good to let him in. She had never felt anything like it before. It felt right to let him roll over her mind, her body erupted with pleasure as he did so, she felt herself opening up to him more and more, bit by bit...

She orgasmed, just a little one the first time, standing in front of him, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow, feeling him probe in and out of her very soul. Her pussy throbbed from her reluctant orgasm, her little clitoris engorged and throbbing as John probed in and out of her mind, her nipples hard as little buttons under her costume.

"That's it," he said, barely audible and yet she could hear every word in her mind as clear as her own thoughts. "That's it, Little Spider. Doesn't that feel good?"

"Yes," she murmured.

"Good girl. Doesn't that feel right? Isn't it right to let me in?"

And it was. It felt so right to let him in that she couldn't imagine him ever not being there again. His thoughts were deep inside her, intertwining with her own thoughts, the two wrapping around each other tightly until her thoughts and his were becoming one.

She orgasmed again, and then again, fighting to control her buckling knees. He stepped closer to her.

She fought him, as much as she could, but he was right: her being open made it hard for her to keep him out. She was a strong person, as strong as anyone, but when she would have thoughts of resistance, they would spiral up, and meet the tendrils he had flowing through her entire being, and he would wrap those thoughts up in feelings of obedience and need, spinning them off into nothingness, leaving behind only pulsating waves of irresistible pleasure and orgasm.

John looked at her deeply. She was so beautiful, as beautiful as anything he had ever considered. He watched her there, her belly rolling, her hips buckling, her lips trembling at the pleasure that was washing over her wordlessly, wave after wave.

He had her. Soon, she would be bound to him closer than anyone else had ever been allowed to be. She would be all his, every little bit of her, body, mind, soul.

Behind her, the Mercenary struggled to his feet, a trail of blood dripping from his mouth, unnoticed by either John or the Spider. The big man stood there, breathing heavily, hoarse, his lungs grasping for enough air to clear his head.

"I want you," John said, and his simple and quiet words made another orgasm erupt from the costumed crime fighter. "I need you," and she came again, even louder this time.

John was almost finished, he had almost complete control of her now. Just a little while longer, and she would never be able to close to him in even the smallest of ways. She would never be able to resist his will in any way, ever again.

She would be entirely his, from this day forward.

He paused for a brief second, distracted, his nose wrinkling up slightly. What was that smell?

He put it out of his mind. He sent all he had into her, washing her with obedience and control, wave after wave, drowning every little bit of her resistance. She stood there, shaking with pleasure, with obedience, and orgasm, moaning and cumming, a little filament of spit dropping from her lips as her body rolled with the feelings that he was putting into her.

"You are mine now," he told her. She answered with a moan. "Open to me. Tell me what I've asked you before."

He stepped closer to her, he reached out and touched her cheek through her mask, gently. She burst into orgasm at his very touch, oh God, oh God, her mouth was forming, but no words were made.

She opened her eyes, and looked directly into his for the first time ever. There was nothing else that her eyes could see, only the pair of eyes that belonged to her- owner? Master?

He stood there for a couple of minutes, his eyes boring into hers, neither of them blinking. Her body went tense, like a live wire. The Spider looked deep in Just John's eyes, her body as tense as piano wire, fighting an unseen battle inside herself.

Finally she slumped. She was completely enslaved now.

"What is your name?" he asked her.

"Anna," she answered him.

And at that admission to him, her body burst into flames of desire and orgasm that made everything that had come before it seem like nothing. Her hips bucked, over and over, her clitoris throbbed and burst with waves of pleasure as she came, resting her cheek on her owner's hand, looking deep into his boundless eyes.

She wanted more of that. She wanted him to know everything about her. She wanted him to have every bit of her, right now, tomorrow, every day that she had to offer. She wanted his thoughts to wrap with hers every moment of every day, guiding her, controlling her.

Making her entirely what he wanted her to be. There was nothing else she wanted at that moment, her knees weak as she orgasmed again and again in his eyes.

Anna, he thought. All mine now, finally.

Neither of them heard the swing of the metal pipe through the air that cracked her ribs, and dropped her to the floor. She collapsed into a heap, crawling and blind from the pain.

She coughed up blood onto the cold concrete.

The Mercenary stood above her, holding the pipe, readying the next blow that would kill her, that would crush her skull, that would drive her into the ground where she would never get up from.

The Mercenary smiled. Finally. It was about to end.

"No!" John yelled, and jumped in between Anna and the Mercenary. "You fucking idiot! What did I tell you!"

The Mercenary stepped back. His eyes narrowed coldly as he regarded John. The Mercenary stood a good foot taller than the other man, outweighed John by a good hundred pounds of muscle.

"Get out of my way," the Mercenary told him. "If you want to live, you'll get out of my way."

John put up his hand, his hand saying simply, stop. John looked the bigger man in the face.

"You won't hurt her anymore," John said quietly.

The Mercenary's eyes got bigger, and his muscles began to bulge around his neck and shoulders. He grunted, painfully, trying to take a step forward on his ruined leg. His robotic arm was still limp by his side, his other hand grabbing white-knuckled onto the pipe with which he intended to kill the Spider with.

"You won't hurt her," John said again.

A trail of blood began to flow from the big man's nose, dripping at first, falling on the Mercenary's armor plating on his chest.

It soon developed into a thicker flow as John forced his way into the other man's mind, brutally, kicking down the doors that held the Mercenary's mind together, shattering the windows, ripping him open.

The Mercenary dropped the pipe. It fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

Smoke began to billow into the cavernous main room of the warehouse.

Fire, John thought. The warehouse is on fire.

John doubled his attack into the Mercenary's mind. The blood flowed thicker, darker, almost black.

The Mercenary collapsed to his knees. He fell, face first, onto the floor. If he was breathing at all at that point, it probably wouldn't have lasted a lot longer.