Chapter 11

Old memories and a thirst for vengeance awaken.

Chapter Eleven

Recurring Nightmare

 

            They were there…watching his every movement. Silent, they crept carefully among the building. Even if their target wasn’t able to see them, he was still able to hear. Their boots crunched softly in the gravel that had built up from the many years of erosion.

            Both Cain and his assistant Markus Fleming had read the file that their new employer, Severin Struthers, had provided for them. The file had been carefully labeled, organized, and filed away. He had noticed because of the many tiny scribblings on the sides, notes perhaps, and the intricate numbering and lettering. It was Cain’s job to notice the small details; the smallest were always the most important because they were what truly identified a person. Like which hand a person prefers to write with or what they do first thing in the morning.

            “So, tell me again why Struthers wants us to follow this guy?” whispered Fleming, not bothering to turn to face Cain when he had asked the question. Both of his eyes were trained on their target, analyzing his every action.

            “I have no idea. It is none of my business to know. All ve do is vatch, listen, and vait until he gives us an order to do something.”

            But, this was only partly true because Cain knew exactly why Struthers wanted them to stalk a select person. It was because of his daughter. He had never a picture of her or met her, but he had heard of her supernatural abilities. She was the ultimate killing machine. And the only that he had hired them was because he had fired his own men for a poor job. Cain promised himself to do better than those others did. Struthers had Cain within his service for only a short time, but it was up until recently a few days ago that he called upon Cain’s service.

            He licked his lips in concentration as if savoring some delicious meal. Cain knew and understood the reason why Struthers wanted to capture his own daughter.

            It was because he wanted to kill her.

 

_____

 

Severin waited anxiously for something, anything. His earphone crackled to life as he tapped his fingers impatiently against the hard oak of his messy desk.

“Anything?”

The Russian’s thick accent failed to show through his words as he spoke carefully and calmly.

“No. The boy is carrying a stack of papers, though. From vhat I picked up on your old computer database, I am afraid to say that he knows more than he should. Should ve kill him?”

“No, no…not just yet. We’ll wait and see what he does with the information. If he even speaks to the police, shoot him.”

“Right.”

The connection went dead, and Severin slowly took off his earphone.

“The boy is getting too inquisitive. He’s bound to go to Willow sometime this week.”

Severin shifted his gaze towards the picture on his desk. It was a single framed photo of Willow with her head down, his own raven hair reflected in hers falling gently over her face. She didn’t appear to be aware of her surrounding or even the people in them. She looked calm but with faint lines of anger furrowing her brow and pulling down her lovely lips.

He sighed and stroked the picture with his hand.

I just want the best for her. Nemesis doesn’t compare with her. Willow is unique and there’s no one else in this entire world with her talents and genius. She must hate me by now. I’ll always be one step ahead of her, thinking more logically. At least my emotions don’t cloud my mind. Hers do and that is what makes her weak. Like prey.

Severin knew that she would be coming for her, and he also knew what purpose she and the other human projects served in his plan. She was stronger, maybe even stronger than Nemesis. She had the Black Widow serum pumping through her veins and it was the one thing that made her nearly invincible. Although Nemesis, his other daughter, had the blood of a stronger and more venomous spider flowing through her blood, there was one miniscule thing that she lacked.

True determination and loyalty to herself.

Nemesis didn’t trust her instincts, but Willow did, hesitating at times. Even though Willow was somewhat weak, her pain and suffering had made her stronger. Stronger than she ever had been before.

It will be only a matter of time before the boy is annihilated for good.

 

_____

 

A sweet tune played itself out on a piano. She heard the song somewhere in her mind as it triggered the emotions and memories she had believed that she had long since hidden away forever. Her eyes were closed and all she could see was darkness. She felt like she was waiting for something…something…

Then one word was whispered…

“Willow.”

 

Willow jolted up out of bed, looking around at the shadows that lingered on her walls and furniture. She gulped down a few deep breaths and laid back down, her exhaustion hovering around her eyes only slightly.

The last few nights after Viola’s funeral had seemed almost like a dream. Every night since that horrible, horrible day she would have a recurring nightmare of a song she had heard before, but couldn’t place. Then, there was the other one…the horrible one.

Her other nightmare consisted of Willow running down a dark alleyway in the depths of Crescent City. She would be in front of Viola, but she wasn’t able to protect her. The bullet plunged into her chest, making it bleed almost immediately. In her nightmare, Viola was dying once more before her eyes. And each night after the dream, she would wake up, sobbing hysterically, but quietly muffling her weeping so that her foster parents wouldn’t hear and come around to see what was wrong.

All this…what had happened then and what was happening now wasn’t real…it couldn’t be…it wasn’t. But it was because Willow felt herself living it. She felt deformed; she seemed to be not inside her own body but wandering about outside of it, watching herself from afar.

Everyone had tried to comfort her, but she easily ignored them. The only one she was paying attention to these days was Allister, but even he, like her, seemed distant and absorbed in his own world. She respected that he wanted to keep the silence and not make it even more awkward between them both by talking about Viola. It was just too much to bear. Life felt like it was passing quickly to Willow’s perspective. She wasn’t coming out of the dark, but rather she was sheltering herself within it, wallowing around in self-pity.

Willow cried again as she did every night since…she passed away. She wept and wept until her heart was empty and she felt numb. She looked out her bedroom window at the half moon, which was glowing somewhat dimly that night. A few scattered clouds covered the sky, blocking out many of the stars that winked down at her. Willow raised a hand, her fingertips gently brushing her own face, and touched the side of the open window. She never minded the cold. In fact, it made her feel more welcome in this unfair world.

“I…I wish you both were,” she choked out. She felt fresh tears well up in her puffy, red eyes. Her throat closed up slightly but loosened once she let out a shuddering breath of air. She cried anyway, though.

“I wish you were here. I’m lost, Mom. Without you, Viola, I’m broken and confused. I-I j-just…I don’t know what to do. I feel so lonely without you two.”

She spoke with her face to the stars, whispering silently so that Aggie and Mike wouldn’t hear her sobbing. Her face scrunched up and she wept bitterly with her face in her hands. Her heart was breaking, if not broken more. Everything was wrong; her living was thoughtless and stupid.

“I-I s-should be the one dead. You two didn’t deserve to die. Everything that happened was because…”

Willow looked up at the cloudy sky once more and shook her head from side to side.

“No, no…it wasn’t my fault…he started all this,” she hissed angrily, pounding the sill hard with a clenched fist. Willow’s amaranthine eyes were red and burning with red-hot rage. “It’s his fault that Viola and Mom died. It’s his fault that I turned out to be such a freak…though, it does have its advantages. But that’s not the point. I swear I will make him pay.”

She narrowed her fiery red eyes.

“Whatever the price.”

 

_____

 

Two boys about the age of fifteen walked on the street in the slums of Crescent City. Their boots pattered softly against the cracked pavement as they both shuffled along. One boy had dark red hair that was spiked with gel and the other dark hair that fell so his shoulders. They both wore worn zipped coats because the dark, cloudy night was freezing. The boy with the dark hair pulled his green cap even lower over his hands and woke beside the other boy with his hands in both his pockets.

“You sure this guy has what we want?” asked the spike-haired boy.

“Guaranteed. Would I lie?”

“You never know.”

“Well, I’m not, just so you know. This guy is the real deal. Trust me.”

The spike-haired boy just shrugged and disappeared deeper into his overly sized coat.

They walked in silence, not even glancing at each other. Just up ahead a man in a long, dark overcoat appeared.

The spike-haired boy asked, “That him?”

“Uh-huh,” the other one grunted, nodding boredly.

The man motioned them to come forward. The spike-haired boy halted for a moment, hesitating slightly. The longhaired boy stopped.

“Coming?”

“I…I don’t know about this…”

“Not chicken, are you?”

“No! It’s just…won’t we get into trouble?”

“Who gives a crap about that? We always get in trouble, don’t we?

“Yeah, but�"”

“Don’t be such a wuss,” he muttered as he walked once again, not stopping.

“I’m not a wuss,” the spike-haired boy said, catching up with the other boy.

“Then stop acting like one,” he retorted.

As they grew closer to the man, they saw him lighting a cigarette with a lighter. It lit his entire face, making his ugly features glow eerily in the shadows.

“So,” he rasped in a hoarse tone, “you two wanted to buy some…souvenirs?”

“Yeah…souvenirs.”

The man shoved a hand into one of his coat pockets and pulled out one medium-sized clear bag. It was filled with marijuana. The drug dealer held up the bag in front of their eyes and one of the boys attempted to grab at it, but he quickly retracted and waved his index finger about.

“Ah, ah, ah… Payment first.”

“Right.”

The longhaired boy searched his pockets for money to pay the dealer with, but before he could find a single penny, he saw the dealer’s face go white and his eyes wide. Before the boy could ask what was wrong, a thin spider web whipped past his face like a whip and came in contact with the dealer’s face. He was immediately pulled back by the force of it. The boy heard a sickening thwack and the dealer flew back behind them with a scream. He hit the sidewalk and fell instantly unconscious.

By this time, both boys had turned slowly to the source of the violence. The longhaired boy widened his eyes in shock.

“No…it…it can’t be! You don’t exist! You’re just a�"”

“A myth?” interrupted the voice in a smooth but sarcastic tone. “A legend? I’m afraid you’re wrong about that.”

A dark figure with billowing black hair and a long black overcoat stepped out from the shadows. Although her face was dark, he could clearly see her eyes with glowed a bright, fiery red. Red with rage.

“You see,” she said as she walked a bit into the light, “I’m real.”

“You can’t be…the Black Widow’s an urban myth. Arachne’s not real.”

“Not exactly true, you see. I’m as real,” Arachne said, casting a small web out from her hand and drawing him to her own face by the collar, “as you.”

Fear tensed his face, readying to be punched.

“Go,” she whispered, setting him down on the ground. The boy rubbed the place where the collar had dug into his neck.

“Wha�"? Why?” asked the other boy. “Aren’t you going to…you know, beat us up?”

“Hey, dimwat!” called the longhaired boy. “She’s giving us a chance. Run!”

The spike-haired boy hesitated, wanting to reach out for Arachne, but fear of her reputation drew him back.

“I…said…GO!”

Both the two boys ran at this, their shoes thudding against the sidewalk as they ran. Finally, their footsteps faded into the night. Arachne hadn’t been watching them, but instead she was looking at her own hands. Then, slowly, she turned her head to the moon above. It glowed a pale white.

“They’re too young,” Arachne murmured to herself. “They’d have their entire lives messed up if they went to juvie. They’d be scarred for life.”

She sighed deeply and turned to walk across the street where she had left her black Harley.

I don’t want them to end up like Viola did. I don’t want them to make the same mistakes that many others have like mine. I don’t want them becoming someone else’s burden.

As Arachne revved up her Harley, she took one last glance at the moon before she sped off into the darkness of the night.

 

_____

 

It was the week of Thanksgiving and Al had absolutely no idea what his mom wanted them to do during the Thanksgiving holiday. Skiing maybe? Staying home? Having a nice quiet evening?

He shook his head at all of these thoughts, driving them away…all except for one. Willow. With him, it was like some sort of obsession. How could a girl that ethereal and troubled ever exist? It was like something against the laws of nature. But there she was, as always…living, breathing, moving, walking, and talking.

Speaking of Willow, where is she? I haven’t seen her in…what? A week? Two? No, I think it was a week. Last week, she was here How could she have gone and gotten killed just like that? There had to be a reason. The police think that maybe it was pickpockecting gone violent. You don’t see many pickpockets carrying guns. They just get your wallet and go. Simple as that.

Then why, I wonder, didn’t Willow clarify what happened with Viola?

Allister bowed his head to avoid the leering gazes from everyone around him. They knew that he was friends with Willow Halliwell. Willow was just there, living and breathing. Willow seemed dark, but she was also very friendly when she broke out of her shell. Willow seemed to be a loner; he knew that she longed for friendship like anyone else did.

Every single person in the school, even the teachers, were awe-struck by her quiet demeanor and good behavior. They knew that she wasn’t like any other normal teenager. She was different and they knew it. That’s why some strayed far away from her. Others picked on her, like Teagan the B***h Queen. But some…they accepted her and even approached to chat with her at times. Al had seen it himself.

One day, when Viola had been alive, he had seen Willow walking by herself in the hallways in-between classes. Just then, a nerdy-looking girl came up to her and began to speak to her. Willow had said very few words to her at first, but when the next bell rung, she was smiling and laughing as if they were both good friends.

Willow had a good heart; she just hid it more than others. Probably because she didn’t want to make a nuisance of herself. He had known Willow to stay out of other people’s business, and only if they asked her to get into it did she interfere. Of course, she had her flaws, too. She usually wanted a lot of time to herself and she tended to be very unpredictable when it came to her moods.

All this and more made her what she was. The main reason Al found himself attracted to Willow was because she was different. He wanted to be there for her so he could comfort her when she cried. Allister noticed that she had been smiling more often and he grinned himself at the thought.

One thought in particular disturbed Al as he walked. He reminisced back to the past to a day that had taken place at least two weeks ago…when Viola was alive…

 

_____

 

They were walking home together mostly in silence. The afternoon had been busy, congested with tests, stress, and teachers. It was good to be sauntering along, simply enjoying the peace and quiet.

Viola looked up at Allister from underneath her ungelled, purple pixie-cut hair. Al glanced at her from out of the corner of his eye. Vi noticed and turned her head away quickly to hide her face. Al read the phrase on Vi’s shirt. He almost chuckled out loud at what it said.

Vi noticed, a small grin playing on the edges of her mouth.

“What?”

“Nothing…”

“Come on, what’s so funny?”

“Your shirt…”

Al didn’t finish because just then he burst out laughing, practically guffawing. Viola grinned this time and looked down at her shirt, which said, “You’re not the brightest crayon in the box�"are you?”

“Where did you get that?” he asked, wiping away the last of the tears that his laughter had caused.

“Dollar General. Real bargain, actually.”

“Do they have one in my size?”

Vi hit him playfully on the shoulder.

“Ow.” He rubbed his shoulder and pretended to pout. “What was that for?”

“For being you.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“At times.”

“How so?”

“Like,” she replied as she pointed to her hair, “dying your hair, for instance. Some people like it while others don’t.”

“Well…I don’t know about other people, but I like it. A lot.”

Vi turned a light shade of pink and smiled.

“Thank you.”

“And…I love your smile, too.”

She chuckled, and that immediately sent a shiver of warmth down his spine. He smiled.

They both stopped and Vi stared at him shyly, her pink face practically glowing in the soon-to-be setting sun. Al felt something he had also felt when he was around Willow. That lovely, indescribable warmth of a crush.

Time seemed to come to a standstill as Vi and Al inched closer to one another.

“Do you know that…you’re very pretty?”

“You think?” she asked as she glanced up at Allister through her long eyelashes.

“Yeah…you are. Even if you don’t think so.”

“Now that you’ve told me, I think that I just might begin to believe that very sentiment.”

“That’s what I love about you. Your ability to make anything anyone says hysterical.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome,” murmured Al. He pulled Vi closer, smiling at her and vice-versa. He saw something in her eyes…love.

She clasped her hands around Allister’s neck and spoke softly.

“You know…I’ve liked you since that day when Willow introduced us both.”

“Yeah. That introduction was somewhat…shocking.”

Viola grinned mischievously. “Wasn’t it though? I played a good one, didn’t I?”

“You sure got me!”

Now it was Viola’s turn to guffaw aloud.

Once she had caught her breath, Al gazed at her with warmth and admiration and leaned in to her face. Viola and Allister’s lips touched tenderly. Al savored how silky and soft her lips felt and how they tasted faintly of chocolate. As the kiss grew deeper, both of them warmed up in the late October chill. The kiss was full of passion, and it rang true for both of them. But, suddenly, Viola pulled away with tears streaming down her face.

“I-I…I c-can’t…”

Allister caressed her cheek with the back of his right hand, wiping away the tears that had been so freshly shed minutes before.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-it’s…it’s Willow.”

“What about Willow?”

Vi took in a breath and exhaled it. She shuddered only a tiny bit before beginning to speak.

“Willow likes you. A lot. You know Willow…she wouldn’t say anything about it, but…I can tell by the way she looks at you and all. She really does. That’s why I can’t be with you because it would break her heart entirely.”

Al was taken aback. Willow liked him? Why him? He wasn’t good enough for her. She deserved someone better, someone stronger and more determined like her.

“I…I see.”

“Please understand.”

He nodded, still flabbergasted.

“I do, I do.”

“Then…we’re still friends?”

“Yeah, yeah…sure. Friends.”

The silence that followed was awkward. Al could literally sense how thick the tension was between them.

“Cool, I guess. See you tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah…see you.”

Viola waggled her fingers a bit at him before leaving and hurried home.

Al sighed. What was he thinking? How could he put himself in-between Vi and Willow?

I shouldn’t have done that. God, I’m so stupid!

Al gazed across the city horizon and watched the sun slowly sink into the earth.

He whispered one word before departing for home.

“Willow.”

 

_____

 

Al drifted away in his thoughts while in Study Hall. He wasn’t able to think clearly because his mind was filled with Viola. Her voice, her laughter, her unusual and unique style and sense of humor…he had forgotten his feelings for her up until now. Even though Viola was long gone, a wave of guilt swept over him, causing a lump to form in his throat. He tried to swallow it but with no success. Al knew he had to tell Willow about his affair with Viola, but…how?

I want to tell in the gentlest way possible. I can’t just let it go down like it was nothing. Wait…

Al looked up at the boring brown ceiling above him and widened his eyes.

Maybe I could somehow ask her to do something alone with me? I’ll call her tonight to check with her.

Al agreed with himself that this was a great idea. The one thing he wasn’t sure about was how Willow would react.

 

_____

 

            Roses…the room smelled entirely of roses…she recognized it. It was her mother’s perfume. She imagined her mother standing there before her, smiling and holding her arms wide open, ready to pull her into a tender embrace. She longed to feel her breath on her arm and her lips pressed against her forehead.

            Mom…

            She opened her strange eyes, expecting her mom to be there, but…the room was empty and thick of sadness. It almost made her cry out loud. All there was in the room was a table with a single red rose on the table with a black ribbon wrapped around it.

            Mom…are you here? Are you here waiting for me? Please…stop hiding. You can come out now…please…I need you so much…please…

            Her very thoughts were desperate, practically begging for her. But Willow knew that her mom wasn’t there. She was creating the illusion that she was to satisfy her lost mind. She felt completely insane calling out to no one.

            She reached for the rose. She stroked the pillow-soft petals gently, savoring the feel of it. She moved her hand down to hold it just when a thorn pricked her middle finger.

            “Oh!”

            She dropped the rose, which fell to the floor soundlessly and quick. Willow held her finger up to eye-level in the somewhat dim light, observing the unusually beautiful contrast of the crimson color against the paleness of her own skin. Just then, everything went dark and she was falling.

            A familiar surrounding appeared out of the darkness around her. She looked down at her clothes. They seemed somewhat familiar…

            Oh no… not this. Anything but this!

            “Willow,” gasped a weak voice, “help me…please.”

            Willow widened her eyes in surprise and turned around to face…a dying Viola. She was reaching out for Willow with her left hand, her right one covering the left side of her heart, which was crimson with blood. There were scratches all over her face that bled only slightly.

            “No…please, no!” she begged, crying out her heart out while reaching down to Viola. She hugged Viola to her and rocked back and forth as the life drained from her body. “No…no, please no…no…anything…anything but this…anything…”

            She cried hysterically into Viola’s shoulder that was still warm. Everything from that dreadful night flooded back to her now…especially the pain from her mother’s death. She felt her heart breaking into a million pieces and torn apart yet again. She continued to weep long after she had no tears. She cried until her life almost went; even though she was alive, it seemed like she was already dead. She felt useless and empty, lonely, forgotten, and lost.

            Willow curled up against the alley wall, still clutching Viola to her chest, in a state of silence and remorse.

            Why should I live? Why do I have to endure constant pain? Who else will be taken from me?

 

When she awoke from her slumber, Willow cried with loneliness weighing heavily on her already broken heart. Who could mend it? No one, she surmised. No one. She would always be alone now and until the very end of time itself.

She heard a knock on the door.

“Yes?”

Agatha pushed open the door slowly and softly. Willow couldn’t see her some in because her face was in her arms, but she could hear her silent breathing. She felt a comforting warm arm slide around her shoulders. Aggie laid her head against Willow’s and rocked her back and forth.

The barren void within her hurt heart ached and pounded, filling a little with love and happiness. Without even saying a word, she knew that Aggie was saying that she was always there for her when she needed her. Willow thought this over and realized that she had been too cruel to Aggie and regretted her horrible behavior almost immediately.

Willow lifted her head and looked Agatha in the eyes, sending what she hoped was a “thank you” look. Aggie nodded, and Willow also realized that she had been more of a mother than Willow had known. She was just too consumed within her own thoughts to notice.

“Thanks…Aggie.”

Agatha looked surprised for a moment, but, recovering, she smiled fondly at Willow.

“Want to know something, Willow?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Mike and I…we once had a child of our own. Her name was Corrie, or Corinne. She looked somewhat similar to you…in features, of course. She didn’t have black hair and pale skin, but tanned skin, scattered freckles, and auburn hair.”

“What happened to her?”

“Well…that’s the thing. She died at the age of fifteen in a car accident. A friend who had gotten her license offered to take Corrie out for a drive. Her friend survived with a few minor skull fractures and bruises here and there, but…Corrie wasn’t as lucky. She died of blood loss. We were there when she died. It was the saddest thing that ever happened to us.”

“Is that why Michael is the way he is?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? He misses his little girl. We…I know you’ve lost your real mom and that’s…horrible. It’ll stay with you and you’ll never forget it. Why do you think Social Services allowed us to have you?”

“Because,” she said slightly angry, “I was just another chance, wasn’t I?”

“No, no, no…never that. We couldn’t ever have a chance to parent Corrie, but you…you don’t have any other family besides your own father who left your mother.”

He didn’t leave her…

“We…I wanted to help you through…your loss…figuring you could’ve helped us through ours. A family of misery and pain.”

Agatha chuckled heartily, but stopped and sighed.

“Point is, Willow…everyone faces some sort of loss sometime in their lives, no matter how small. It comes and hits you like cymbal, knocking you right off your feet in surprise. Sure we may cry and groan about these times, but sooner or later you…you just wake up and realize that the world’s still spinning and you’re moving with it. You just didn’t notice it. I’m saying this because we all have to move on after the bad things happen and face other bad things as well. We can’t stay and mope around them, locking ourselves away from the world for all time.

“Do you know what I mean?”

Willow nodded her head, awestruck that Aggie understood so well. She understood the exact same pain that Willow herself had endured so many years ago and just recently.

“Yeah…yeah, I do. So well, in fact.” Willow turned to smile at her. “I’m glad someone understands me.”

Aggie placed her hand on top of Willow’s and stroked it just like a mother would caress a child gently.

“People would understand you so much better if you opened up more every once in a while. Then, maybe, it wouldn’t be that hard to make friends.”

“I don’t need a lot of friends. I’m just happy that I have at least one left…”

Willow turned to gaze out the window at the receding sunset.

“Aggie?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think…I’m self-centered?”

“No…no. Not at all. You just think a lot, that’s all. Nothing’s bad about keeping to your own thoughts. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just a thought I had a bit earlier today before I fell asleep.”

“Oh…okay. Well…I’ll leave you alone. Do you feel well enough to go to school tomorrow?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Okay. I’ll leave you alone, okay?”

“Okay.”

What came after was a silence. Not an embarrassing and awkward silence, but a silence that was filled with comfort and warmth. A warmth Willow wanted to embrace right at that moment, but she knew that she couldn’t. The reason was that her heart was too cold and hurt. It would take much more to melt it than just a long speech like Aggie’s.

At the moment Willow’s thoughts were filled with darkness and her vengeance of her mother and Viola.

How in the world am I gonna find Severin? It’s not he simply has a local office somewhere downtown…no, it would have to be secret and in a place where nobody, not even the police, would dare to look. But how do I know if it’s downtown? I’ll think about this later. God, I hate school. Who invented it anyway?

Willow lay back down on her bed and stared straight up at the ceiling, which was smooth from its recent painting a few years ago.

This used to be Corrie’s bedroom…

Willow kept thinking about Corrie until she drifted back into another night of restless sleep.

 

_____

 

That night, Pierce searched the papers he had printed out, scanning every word and phrase for any possible clue to what and who Arachne really was.

Was her alter-ego Willow, or was it just a figment of his imagination? Either way, two people couldn’t possibly look that similar unless they were twins. And Pierce was pretty damn sure that Willow didn’t have a twin.

He glanced through the government documents that he had attained by hacking into their main database. Apparently, as he read, the government had tested an idea that had been currently in development until for some reason it was cancelled. The experiment had been researched and begun by the head scientist Dr. Severin Struthers at their main headquarters at Lunar Laboratories.

Why does that name sound so familiar?

Then, somewhere in his mind, a lightbulb was switched on and he suddenly knew.

Yes…yes, that’s it. That’s it! I definitely remember reading that big article a few years back about this project at Lunar Labs. They were supposedly testing dangerous chemicals on human beings. What kinds of chemicals, I have no idea. They weren’t mentioned. I’m guessing they wanted to keep that part secret so they wouldn’t alert the city.

But how would this article be tied in with Arachne and dangerous chemicals? Wait…

He read the words be had read back at the library. At the library, when he had hacked into the government database, he read about animal DNA testing and mutating, and mixing the DNA of mutated dangerous animals with dangerous chemicals and inserting that serum into a human’s bloodstream.

Now Pierce knew what Lunar Labs strived so much to hide.

Only a heartless person would dare test on humans, he thought. It’s unethical…does that mean that Arachne is one of those poor test subjects? And if she is, is she connected to Willow? Willow always seems to have a dangerous secret lying deep within her. The only way is to ask her.

And I think I’ll do exactly that.

 

_____

 

Cain narrowed his eyes as if he were concentrating on something.

Struthers vas right about the boy getting too inquisitive. Now I think he is going to be doing vhat my instincts have been telling me all along.

Cain turned away from the shadow of Fleming’s figure in the moonlight. He carefully and silently unstrapped the portable radio he always carried with him on his belt in case of emergencies or something important. Like right now.

He changed the dial to FM and pressed a button.

“Yes?” an impatient voice rang out from the speaker barked.

“It is time.”

“Right.”

Cain bowed his head as he strapped his radio to his belt once more. He felt regretful. It is a pity that the boy does not know what is coming for him.

But, besides that, he clouded his mind of all emotion he felt. Cain knew well that his own emotions weren’t supposed to intertwine with business.

He stood slowly, though, still thinking of the boy.

“Come, Fleming. Our job here is finished.”

Fleming got up silently and without protest. He, too, knew that business should always be put ahead of all feelings whatsoever.

 

Severin was silent as he picked up the phone in his upscale office that was hidden in the depths of the underground of Crescent City. He pressed a series of numbers and the dial tone changed from a long monotone beep to an instaneous ring that stopped and started until finally someone on the other end picked up.

“Yes?”

“It is time.”

“Right.”

He calmly placed the phone back down into its cradle. Severin closed his eyes and smirked.

At first, I dismissed him because he was asking simple little questions like everyone else does. And now…he has pushed me too far. It’s time for him to be destroyed.

Let’s hope I’m able to as easily kill him as I did Viola Whitmore.

Author's Note

As her hate grows, it will ultimately change Willow. Her transformation into a true entity of justice takes over her. Please hang on for the ride, dear readers, to see how exactly Willow changes.