The Spider Pt. 01

Grimm's Heights is what the neighborhood had been euphemistically named back when the City was new and hopeful, although whoever the fuck Grimm was no one really remembered. Anybody with any money, sense and opportunity had long since moved out, leaving behind people too poor to escape the criminals that preyed on them. Of course it was quickly renamed Grimm Town by the locals, most of which just got on the highway and drove right past it. You know the deal- they got places like this in your town, and that's exactly what you do. No one blames you. Some things are broken and can't be fixed.

But back when this part of the City had hope and cared at all about the education of its kids, they built a high school, called it Sheldon-Summers. It was one of those big early 20^th century high schools, brick, massive. Designed to serve generations, designed to produce well educated kids that would contribute to a booming postwar economy that no one thought would end. But it did end.

Now Sheldon-Summers was vacant. Empty. And in Grimm Town, nothing was empty for long.

Where there had been community and hope, something always moved in. Dark corners never stayed unoccupied. Don't look in them. Just keep moving.

It was a cold night, and most of the street lights didn't work any longer. No one cared enough to replace them, no one who lived there bothered to even call about them being burned out any longer. No one would have came with any light bulbs and everyone knew it.

Anyone with any sense would be safely behind locked doors at night, anyway. Don't look out the windows. Just stay quiet.

But there was one street light still burning, illuminating a former loading door of the old high school. And under that light, there was a single man, looking out into the darkness.

High above him, stories up, the Spider looked down at him. She knew that he was posted out there to make sure nobody disturbed the sickness that was festering in the wounds of the old high school.

The man below didn't see her. The Spider knew that he wouldn't look up, they never did. But she knew that even if he did, he wouldn't see her in the shadows. No one ever saw the Spider in the shadows.

But she saw him. She was silent- no one ever heard the Spider in the shadows, either- and the jet black outfit that she wore made her and the shadows one. She saw him, she heard him breathe, even from as high as she was.

And she waited.

Finally, what she was waiting for came to pass. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, from next to the pistol he was carrying there, and he put the cigarette to his lips. He looked in one pocket for his lighter, then another, finally finding it in his other jacket pocket.

The Spider leapt from her hiding place in the darkness, extending her arms as wide as she could, her underarm glider wings catching the wind and allowing her to dive silently towards him.

The man bowed his head, cupped his hand, and got his lighter to work in the wind after a couple of tries. His cigarette lit, he pulled a deep inhalation of smoke and grime into his lungs.

It was all over in only a moment. The Spider glided down noiselessly, and wrapped her legs around his neck, taking him down that way as her landing. As she brought him down to the ground, she spun him in a circle, spinning her web over arms, pinning them to his torso. He tried to yell, but she held him close with her legs, finally wrapping her web around his mouth, also.

He was helpless. His bulging eyes looked at the cigarette he'd never get to smoke as the Spider dragged him off into the darkness, wrapping him further and further in her webs. In only a minute or so, it was all over.

He would be found later by the police, and he would be arrested, and he would be jailed. He'd never forget the Spider.

She would never know or care who he was. She headed into the school.

***

Whoever the criminals were, they had managed to get some of the lights working in the hallway of Sheldon-Summer High. Not all of them, it was still very dark, but there was one hallway that was fairly lit. That hallway ran past the locker rooms, and the display cases that used to hold trophies commemorating athletic achievement of the past, now all smashed glass, the trophies long ago thrown out and forgotten.

The hallway led to the old gymnasium. The Spider could see light coming from that door.

That, she knew, is where the drugs were.

The Spider had the idea that the criminals were cutting a shipment of drugs for sale. They had probably gotten their hands on a new shipment, likely cocaine fresh from God knows where, still probably fairly pure at this point.

But not for long. Behind that door, the Spider knew, that cocaine was being cut with baking soda, talcum powder, methamphetamine to crank it up, or roach poison... who knows what. Nothing good.

She didn't want even a crumb of that to hit the streets. She knew it was her standing against the tide. Still, night after night, she tried to stop the floods.

She crept low, out of sight. She turned the corner, and readied her boomerang in order to take one guard out while she tackled the other one. She hoped there were only two. If there were three, she would have trouble. She might have to take one or two out, and lure the other one away if she could into the darkness, where she could deal with him at leisure.

But there was no one posted at the door. Not three guards, not one, none.

She stopped in the hallway, outside the door. She realized she was making assumptions, and was rushing, and could be making a mistake. This was kind of a run of the mill bust for her, but there was no reason for her to not take her time, and make this happen safely.

The Spider stood outside the doorway into the gymnasium, closed her eyes, and opened her senses. This took a while, and wasn't always accurate, but somehow she was able to expand her senses and get an idea of things that she couldn't see, or hear, or feel. She didn't herself know exactly how she was able to know what she would know. But the Spider had the ability to open herself up and gather information from all around her, when she had time, when she needed to.

And what she came to know surprised her. She came to know that there was only one person in that room. That person wasn't frightened, or tense, or seemingly in any distress of any kind.

How was it that there were only two drug dealers in this whole abandoned school? No one could have thought that the she was coming, but it's not like she was the only danger. There was no end of danger in Grimm Town, and drug dealers would murder other drug dealers for territory, or to steal the product, or for revenge, or, the Spider was sure, just because they liked to kill.

She slipped in the door. She was silent, as always, and she moved into the shadows as quickly as she could. There were only a couple of lights, still burning, high up on the ceiling of the gym, casting long and dancing shadows all over the walls. It wasn't hard for the Spider to slip into darkness as soon as she got in. Anyone looking directly at the door would have wondered if they had really seen anything at all.

But no one was looking at the door.

There was a single man, sitting in the center of the gymnasium. But it wasn't just any man.

This man was Frank Farracone, and he was no small time punk. The Spider crouched in the darkness, watching him for a couple of minutes. He was just sitting there, his hands folded, waiting. Blinking in the semi-darkness. Not moving. Just sitting there.

She crouched, again opening her senses. She heard him breathe, quietly, regularly, seemingly as if all he wanted to do was to sit in that seat, under those dim lights, just waiting until something arrived.

But what? Who?

She almost jumped when he finally spoke.

"Are you here? Are you here yet?"

She debated answering him. But she knew she wasn't in danger from him. Physically, she could take him down. She was also positive that he, inexplicably, didn't have a gun.

Who would come and do whatever he was doing with no gun?

She answered him from the darkness.

"Who are you waiting for?"

He sighed with relief.

"You are here," he said. "Finally. Finally. I've been waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"For you to come. I have to talk to you."

The Spider remained where she was. None of this made sense. Frank Farracone was nominally a businessman, who owned several restaurants around the City, but the Spider knew that he made most of his money doing illegal things. Cutting and selling drugs. But Frank Farracone didn't get his hands dirty. There was no reason why he would be in this school, this late at night. Even if he was, where was everybody else?

"There's a lot of drugs here," he went on. He was pointing at some bricks of what was probably uncut cocaine wrapped in plastic. There were more than a few of them. "There's also a lot of money- I have a lot of money on me."

Why was he telling her this?

"You're going to go to jail," the Spider told him.

"Yeah, I know," he said.

Finally, she stepped up and revealed herself, walking towards him.

She was a sight. Usually criminals didn't know what to believe when they saw her. She was small, petite, which usually gave thugs the idea that she couldn't be any threat to them. She wore a skin-tight outfit of all black, black on black, with black boots, a small black utility belt. The only part of her outfit that wasn't black was the small white slits that covered her eyes. Her mouth was exposed, and her shoulder length hair, but the rest of her was just... the blackness of night shadows.

But not this guy. He didn't move or seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. It was as if he knew she was coming and that was the long and short of it.

"I'm going to have you arrested," she told him. "I know who you are, and I know what you do. It's time for you to pay for your mistakes."

"It doesn't matter," he told her. "Nothing that happens to me is important. My story ends here tonight. But it's important that- "

He didn't get to finish that thought. In the blink of an eye, a heartbeat, the Spider was on him. She leapt behind him, and pulled him from the chair and onto the table, on his face, his chest. Before he could react, she had his arms behind him, her webbing out, and she secured his arms to each other. She dropped him back into the chair, and wrapped him up in that, for good measure.

He didn't resist in any way, not that it would have done any good, but still...

She stepped back.

He just sat there and said, "OK?"

Like he was waiting for her to get something out of her system or something.

She held up a small electronic device, about the size of a quarter.

"I'll drop this when I go," she told him. "It will summon the police. They'll take you to jail, and that's where you'll stay. If you get out, by any chance?"

The Spider stepped forward, and leaned in to him.

"If you get out? Don't. I'll just find you again. It will be worse next time. I know what you are, I know who you are."

He just looked at her, waiting for her to finish.

"You need to call him," was what Frank Farracone told the Spider. "In the pocket of my coat is his card, with his phone number. You need to call him."

"Call who?"

Frank shook his head.

"I don't know his name. Him. He's the one who told me to come here. Who told me to get the drugs from my boys and come and meet you here. I'm here for you. He said for me to tell you that. That I was here for you. And that you need to call him."

The Spider had no idea what was going on. She dropped the transmitter. The signal was now sending to the City police.

Frank frowned.

"Take it," he yelled. "Take the card! Take the fucking card! You need to call him!"

She reached in to his pocket. She found the card, and turned away into the shadows again.

"You need to call him! You fucking bitch! You need to call him!"

Frank Farracone kept screaming that until the cops found him there, held to the chair like a fly in the web. He kept screaming long after the Spider had gone.

***

Seventeen stories up, in a much nicer part of the City than Grimm Town, the Spider climbed over a railing and onto a balcony. She walked past the outdoor seating, the table and chairs, and reached a glass door, and slid it open.

It wasn't locked. It was never locked. It was always open for her.

She moved silently across the condo, until she got to his bedroom. He was asleep, but she knew he would wake for her. Noiselessly, she slipped off her boots, pulled off her utility belt, and unzipped her body suit. She let that fall to the floor.

Her mask, though, she kept on.

She slid into bed beside him, his sheets were cool, his breath warm. He grunted, and woke up.

He rose to one elbow.

"Anna," was all he said.

She said nothing, sliding into him, pressing her body up to his. Her hand reached down under the cool sheets, and found him there, his thick cock already throbbing and becoming hard in her hand.

Anna put herself on top of him, put her mouth to his, and took both his wrists in her hands. She pressed his hands to the bed, grinding her sex on his, feeling him getting harder in the quiet darkness, her dragging her moist pussy up and down his cock until she couldn't wait and longer.

His name was Steven Longstreet, and he didn't ask questions when she visited him at night any more. He used to. He never got answers. He stopped.

She pulled herself up, and slipped his cock into her. She loved his cock. Powerful, thick, she looked up at the ceiling and slid her pussy up and down, riding him, feeling his strength and hardness.

She looked down at him. In her own way, she cared for him. There was a time when she needed him, when she came her for a different matter. Now she came here for this. She came to feel close to someone, to need someone, if just for a while.

Steven looked up at her, her powerful, lithe body lifting and grinding up and down on him. She threw her head back, her hair flowing down over her shoulders. She kept sliding her sex up and down on him, tight, wet, getting wetter... getting tighter.

He closed his eyes. He knew what was coming. It would be, like all other times, almost too much.

She pulled on his cock with her pussy. She gripped him, tight, wet, and pulling. She pulled stronger, and more powerfully, as she went on, building and building towards her orgasm. Her strength was such that she didn't just give him an orgasm, she pulled it from him, found where every bit of it was within him and pulled it all out and into her, nothing hiding there afterwards, nothing left.

She was cumming. She lowered her head, her hair covering the eye slits on the mask, she twitched and shook and pulled on his cock with her tight, throbbing little pussy until he exploded with cum himself. There was no choice for him, nothing he could do, he gasped and squirted his thick jets of cum into her until she had taken every little bit that he had. He had become pure orgasm with her, incapable of thought other than pleasure, hardness launching jet after jet mindlessly into her, her pussy drinking it all in, taking it all, controlling every bit of him in white waves of pleasure and cum.

When she was finally done with her orgasm, she leaned forward, and put her lips to his. She kissed him tenderly, affectionately, but he knew what was next.

"I don't suppose that you'll be staying this time either, Anna, will you?"

She slid herself off from his cock, now spent, half hard. She began to dress herself.

"No," was all she said.

"You know I want you to."

"Yes. Maybe some time."

"You always say that."

"I always mean it."

And with that, she crossed the carpet across the floor of Steven's condominium silently, like a ghost, through the balcony door, over the railing, and into the night again.

***

It was late, almost four in the morning. The Spider was watching the night come to a close. Another night, another set of predators and victims was coming to an end, one way or the other. Soon enough, the sun would scour the evil back into the cracks for another day.

The Spider had been thinking. She had the card that she had taken from Farracone, and had been wondering what to do with it. She almost put it in the trash over and over. There was no information on it... just a set of numbers, no name.

She didn't. Instead, she found one of the few working pay phones in the City.

She put a quarter into the slot. She dialed the number. She didn't want to talk to anyone, it was late, but she wanted to hear who might answer, or if there was a recording of some kind. Maybe it was a business.

It rang, once, twice, a third time. This is stupid, she thought. Farracone was probably crazy, there's nothing to this. He probably had been using his own product, they all do no matter what they say, slowly it eats them up as it does to everyone else they sell that shit to-

The phone picked up.

"Why, hello," he said. "I've been waiting for you to call, Spider."