Chapter 18

Pierce has been kidnapped. Willow risks her life to save him.

Chapter Eighteen

Feeling Love

 

            “So…boy…vhat do you have to say?”

            Pierce shifted his eyes slowly to the man that was towering above him. A light Russian accent weighed down his voice. He appeared to be a military man, his head bald and shiny; he wore an outfit of camouflage. The man twirled a black gun around in his hands.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            The man halted his gunplay and allowed the gun to rest in his right hand. His finger traced a path to the trigger, which he pulled slightly. He gingerly touched the nozzle where the bullet could shoot out. He closed his eyes, as if savoring the power the gun brought to him.

            “Do you know vhat vill happen if you do not give me an exact answer?”

            Pierce could easily guess.

            “Vell?”

            Pierce gritted his teeth and glared with hatred at the man. A light line of perspiration lined his brow. Fear spiked through him, but he managed to keep a calm persona.

            “If you think…that I’m going to tell you anything, forget it,” Pierce growled in a low tone.

            The man chuckled to himself. He lifted the gun adruptly and pointed it straight at Pierce’s forehead. The smile vanished from his lips, his countenance now menacing.

            “Oh, you vill tell me. Othervise you vill have to deal with a bullet in your head.” He smiled crazily, “And that vould not be much fun, now vould it?”

            Pierce kept gritting his teeth.

            “I don’t know a thing.”

            “I think you do.” His smile grew even wider. “I know you know a certain secret that nobody else does,” he whispered.

            “What do you mean?’ Pierce asked.

            “A certain secret that has to do with a little someone name Villow Hallivell.” Seeing the shocked look on Pierce’s face, he nodded. “I think you know her vell. Very vell. Ve have been vatching you and her…together. Ve know about everything and everyone that is in her life.”

            “Why are you watching Willow? She’s never done anything!”

            “It is not vhat she has done, but more like the abilities she possesses. And ve know you know about them.”

            “I’m not telling you anything.”

            The gun clicked as the cold metal jammed into the flesh of his right temple.

            “You should.”

            “Why?”

            “Because it vill cost you your life if you do not. That is vhy.”

            Pierce knew to keep drilling him. That was the very best way to get information about why they were watching Willow. Besides, he was also curious.

            “What do you mean by ‘we’?”

            “Ve have been vatching Villow since she was very young. Now talk!”

            The barrel was shoved even harder into his skull.

            “Fine. I know about the experiment conducted on Willow. I know she’s the Black Widow. Why did you change her into something she wasn’t?”

            “If you have to ask, consult my boss.” He turned to the doorway. “Sir, meet Pierce Stevens. Friend to your daughter.”
            Daughter?

            And Pierce immediately understood why. When Severin Struthers entered the room, his eyes widened not just at the sight of an acclaimed ex-scientist and escaped convict, but also at the eerie resemblance Willow bore to him.

 

_____

                       

            The cold wind blew strongly on the blustery day. The leaves on the surrounding trees had almost completely fallen off. The sun peaked in at Willow’s face through the branches. It made her ivory skin glow prettily, igniting a slight flush in her cheeks. She inhaled the cold, pure air in deep gulps and ran her fingers down the branches of the willow tree that was in the backyard.

            Willow stood there. She was silent and pensive, soaking in the calm environment around her. One might wonder what this young girl was thinking. She looked like a normal, goth teen, yet there was more to her. More to her personality, more to her mind, more to her maturity, and even more to her entire measure of humanity. She had experienced more pain and sorrow than any normal human should ever have to know. And, therefore, that matured her in the matters of the world. This wasn’t necessarily a good thing for Willow had never gotten the chance to really be a child because her innocence was cut short. It was all because of her mother’s death.

            Yes, Willow knew that she lingered way too much on the death of her mom. Even though it happened years ago when she was just six, it was still as fresh in her mind as ever. That was the one thing in her life she would never forget.

            She wouldn’t forgive herself for living when her loved ones were dead, no matter how hard she tried. Friends were so precious to her that she tried to protect them, but so far in her life all they did was be killed because of that.

            Why do I even bother to make friends? All they’ll do is be killed because of me, she thought. It’s all because of that son of a b***h who started all this in the first place by killing Mom.

            But Willow knew she shouldn’t think negative thoughts like this. It would lower her confidence and make her weak. And bad things often happen to those whom are weak because you never who might strike you when you least expect it. She sucked in a breath and let it out as a snake-like hiss.

            “Willow? Willow?”

            “I’m in the backyard!” she answered,

            “Alright. Mike and I are going out to pick up a turkey for dinner. Will you be fine?”

            “Yeah!”

            “Okay. We’ll see you in a while!”

            She heard the slamming of car doors and the rev of an engine. The wheels of the car rolled over the driveway and out onto the road. Soon, the sounds of the car faded away into the distance until they were no longer audible.

            “Alone at last,” she whispered to the willow in front of her. It seemed to almost answer as the wind rustles its long strings of leaves.

            She fondly touched the tree and laid her head against it. She thought about her name and what its connection might have with the tree itself.

            I heard somewhere the willow tree is basically a thing of healing because the ancient Greeks used its bark in medicines that relieved pain. Physical, of course, not emotional like I have. And people today still use it in medicines. If the willow tree heals pain, I wonder if my name has some significance. Maybe I can heal myself.    

But the spark of hope that she wielded for a moment in her heart was extinguished by the darkness of doubt. Willow knew that it would be impossible to ever forgive herself for losing her mom.

            A shrill ring retracted her from her thoughts. It came from within the house. Puzzled, she sprinted to the back door and opened it. It slammed right behind her. She yanked the phone from its cradle.

            “Who’s calling?”

            “Willow? Is that you?”

            She gritted her teeth at the sound of the voice she had least hoped to hear.

            “Allister,” she said coldly.

            “Look…Willow, just hear me out okay?”

            “WHY SHOULD I?”

            “Will…please…listen…”

            It wasn’t enough that he was calling, but he had to call her by her nickname too?

            Tears gathered in her eyes.

            “No…you listen…why did you have to go and kiss Viola? Why?” Jealousy entered her voice. “WHY?”

            There was a pause on the other end. She heard static as Allister sighed into the phone.

            “Al…were…were you in love with her?”

            “Yes…I loved her…we loved each other…she said it wouldn’t work, though. Vi knew I loved someone else. Someone…who was more important to me.”

            “Who, then?” she demanded.

            “You.”

            Barely believing what she was hearing, Willow carried the cordless phone to a chair and fell back into it.

            “Willow? Are you okay?”

            “Why me?”

            “Because…you’re different from anyone I’ve ever met. You’re confident and beautiful. You’re everything…you’re…you. I love you.”

            “Al…I love you, too…but�"”

            “�"you love someone else? I know. I realize that. You just want to be friends, right?”

            “Al�"” She could feel the tears starting to flow now. “�"you’re the best friend I’ve ever had along with Viola. And I want us to keep being friends. I love you. Know that, but…there’s someone I love even more.”

            “I understand,” he said. She could detect the note of regret in his voice. “The guy you love is very lucky. Know that, okay?”

            “Yeah…I do.”

            “And I also wanted to say that I’m sorry if I ever hurt you. You know I never meant to.”

            “It’s alright. I forgive you. I’m just sorry I slapped you.”

            “It’s okay…”

            “Why did you call in the first place?” she asked.

            “Well, I wanted to say sorry, but also that my mom invited you over for Thanksgiving.”

            She sniffed back a running nose, wiping it with a tissue.

            “That’s kinda hard because I’m being punished.”

            “Really? What for?”

            “Long story. Listen, my foster parents are gone for the moment. Can I call you back when they come home?”

            “Oh they’re your foster parents? I mean, yeah, sure, you can call me back.”

            “Okay. Bye.”

            “Bye.”

 

_____

 

            “We have to take serious precaution from now on.”

            Police Commissioner Chief Longhorn stared Detective Eberhard deep in the eye.

            “Why so, sir?” she asked.

            He glared at her, his frown deepening into his skin, causing even more wrinkles than before.

            “You know why, Eberhard. This Black Widow character’s becoming a real nuisance to us. First she knocks out guys on the street, then trespasses on private property, and now she sets an entire building on fire!”

            “Sir, as I recall, that building was empty.”

            “It’s still considered arson, nonetheless. Last time I checked, that was against the law.”

            “Sir�"”

            “Detective, tell me, exactly which side are you on again?”

            It was Eberhard turn to glare at Longhorn.

            “Sir, I mean no disrespect, but the last time I checked, there were no sides. Just catching the bad guys. And the Black Widow is trying to help us! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

            “Eberhard, the Black Widow is an unauthorized individual. Which means she shouldn’t be doing our job for us!”

            “Sir! Just hear me out! She could help us. Act as another part of our force! Why do you have such a problem with that?”

            “Because freaks like her shouldn’t be permitted to running around the city!” Longhorn’s face was tomato red. His teeth were gritted and his fists clenched. “Freaks like that damn broad should be thrown into jail, not helping us. The last thing we need is the Crescent City Police Department blamed for half the crime in the city.”

            “Sir�"!”

            “No, Eberhard. One more word about the Black Widow and I will fire you. I mean it. I know how much you need your job.”

            He slammed the door behind him as he exited her office. Eberhard sighed, covering her face with her hands in exasperation. She sank into her seat.

            “God, that poor girl is innocent of the fire. I just know it.” She lifted her face from her hands and picked up a light orange envelope and extracted the picture of a young girl. It was Willow Halliwell at the age of thirteen. Her midnight hair was chopped down to her shoulders. Despite her youthfulness in the picture, something about her seemed different from most kids at that age. When she looked closer, she could see an intensity, a maturity that none other thirteen-year-olds ever had. She seemed older than she was; at that age she could have easily passed for fifteen or older.

            “What you had to see, Willow…too horrible for words,” Eberhard murmured to herself as she lightly fingered the picture. Somehow she knew that Willow had seen her mother murdered, but she couldn’t dismiss her suspicious behavior in Viola Whitmore’s murder. Though she had a soft spot for her, she still had to remind herself that she was there firsthand when Viola had died.

            She placed the glossy photo on top of the envelope and turned to the most recent picture of Willow. Still Eberhard noted the coldness that lingered in her gaze; the very same intensity. Her hair, of course, was now much longer; down to her waist. She noticed something else; familiarity struck her. Why did Willow look so familiar to her? Unconsciously, Eberhard picked up the shadowy picture of the Black Widow. She surprised herself as she glanced from one to the other. Now she knew. It was too obvious, and the similarities were too coincidental. Willow Halliwell was really and truly the Black Widow.

            Eberhard smiled a little to herself. But sadness weighed the smile down for she believed that there was a simple, yet big, reason why Willow was a vigilante in the first place.

            “It’s because of your mother, isn’t it?” she murmured softly to the recent photo of Willow.

 

_____

 

            This time, in silence, she thought aloud to herself. She knew it was a semi-crazy thing to do, but she was too stuffed with confusion at the moment to sort out her thoughts while Mike and Aggie were out.

            She furrowed her brow.

            “God, it’s so lame to be doing this…but I can’t concentrate at the moment. Okay…well…what to think about first. So hard. My thoughts are more complicated than my own words. Where to start?” she asked herself.

            She exhaled and inhaled deeply to remove the stress that was building in her chest. Her throat closed up she was so frustrated.

            “Now’s not the time,” Willow choked out. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Gotta get it out. Al telling me he’s loved me. He loves everything about me.” A dreamy smile crossed her lips. “He loves me…but I can’t. I love him. I also love Pierce. I love Pierce…I do. More than Al.”

            Her heart was heavy with the prospect of that thought. Now, being taken out of her thoughts, she realized how bad things seemed to her.

            “Jeez, is it this normal to feel so much pressure?” She hugged herself. She leaned back into the cushioned chair. She stared at the wall hard and faraway. “I guess it is. Gotta be strong, though. Weakness only gets you so far in the world. Strength is everything.  

“Severin. What to do about him? He has to be somewhere. I’m such a ding butt for not looking hard enough. Now that I think about it, I don’t know all that much about him…except that he used to be a scientist. He was in jail before, but he escaped and evaded police detection. If he’s rich than he can afford spies…Jesus, why didn’t I think of it before? That means…he’s watching me. And…and he knows about my friends…”

            Tears filled her eyes. Blood rippled on the ground and stained her hands. She saw two bodies in front of her. She knew whose those were.

            “No…he knows everything…and…he knows about Pierce. Pierce said he knew something, but never got the chance to tell me. Oh my God…what if…? NO!” Willow fumbled around as she stood up, almost knocking over the table where she placed the phone. “THAT B*****D!”

            Accidentally, the heel of her hand pressed into a button on the phone’s cradle.

            “You have one new message,” said the robotic male voice happily.

            Willow turned around. A new message?

            She heard a long beep and then a deep male voice entered on the line, breathing desperately.

“Willow? Are you there? I guess not. Well, if you get the chance when you get back, call me. I have something important to talk to you about. And it can’t wait. Okay? I�"”

            Then, on the recording, another phone picked up on the other end.

“Willow? That you?”

“Your girlfriend isn’t here at the moment, loverboy,” taunted the other voice.

“W-who…who are you? What did you do with her?”

“Nothing…much.”

“What�"did�"you�"do�"with�"her?” Pierce snarled.

“Don’t worry. She’s still alive…for the moment.”

“Don’t you touch her! I’ll get you if you do.”

“Oh…I don’t think you’ll be doing anything just yet. Heh heh…”

Willow bit her lip. She heard a struggle on the other end and then a moan. The phone picked up once again. She heard a low chuckled of triumph.

“I know you’re listening, girl. We have your boyfriend. Dare to find him, and us, if you can,” he hissed lowly into the receiver. “Otherwise…he’ll go bye-bye. Heh…here’s a hint…the Underworld is closer than you think.”

The recording ended, followed by another long beep.

“End of message,” piped the robotic voice.

Willow pressed the delete button. She was seething with anger and worry. What were they doing to him? She leaned on the table, her fingers curling over the edges and grasping them desperately. She shuddered, her shoulders and body heaving.

“It’s all my fault…if I hadn’t been…if I hadn’t been born, none of this would’ve happened…if Mom hadn’t been killed…and it’s all because I’m living…all because of me. Me and that damn jackass father of mine!”

She cursed more. Her eyebrows drew down in anger.

“He won’t win. I promise myself that. He won’t win…ever. Not as long as I’m alive. And I’ll make sure of that tonight. I’m gonna find him and make him pay.”

And her hands curled into fists.

 

_____

 

The boy’s eyes widened in awe as Severin entered through the doorway. Severin’s raven hair fell loosely, but neatly, over his eyes; it was a little untidy, but enough to make him look good. His purple-red eyes sparked vigilantly; easily enough, anyone could tell that this man was highly trained to notice things, even the smallest of details. With a single glance, Cain left the room, but not before handing over the gun respectfully to him.

By simply observing the boy, Severin could tell that he already knew who he was. And he was filled with fear, but trying to suppress it.

Severin smirked.

“Stupid, stupid boy,” he cooed. He glanced at Pierce, his gaze hard and cold. “You shouldn’t have meddled in affairs that were nothing of your concern. And now you’re going to pay the price.”

Quick as a snake, Severin thrashed his fist against the boy’s skull. The impact caused the other side of his head to bang against the wooden wall hard. The opposite side of where Severin had hit him was bruised. Pierce’s lip trickled with a small ounce of blood. The boy glared at Severin with malice.

“What are you?”

“Excellent question. Unfortunately it’s not your place to ask it.” He kicked Pierce expertly in his side again, but this time near his lower stomach. Pierce crumpled on the ground. “You’re weak and worthless. You can’t defend yourself against the likes of me. But…because you asked, I will answer you.”

“I know who you are. You won’t get away with this,” gasped Pierce without stuttering.

Severin frowned at him.

“I have highly trained men out there, taught to watch and take out anyone who even dares to learn me and my daughter’s secret. You really think you have a chance?”

“If I don’t have a chance, then why am I still alive?”

“Because you’re the key, the weakness. You found out Willow’s secret and you interfered. The only reason I’m keeping you alive right now is because she cares for you. Deeply. She’ll be drawn here by the thought of saving you. She knows nothing of the fate that’s in store for her.”

“I was right. Right thinking you were a killer. You’re malicious and vile. Where did you even come off being Willow’s father in the first place?”

“Because it was apart of a plan. A plan to change mankind forever. Starting with just a simple trigger that will pull everything I’ve built up over the years into action. Nobody can possibly stop it.”

“Are you sure? Everything has flaws, imperfections. You don’t think whatever you have in store will come crashing down on you, will you?”

“It’s perfect. I’m sure. Things with Willow and everything else are more complicated than you can even comprehend.”

“You can’t…hurt her. I know you. You were a scientist working for�"”

“�"a world that refused me, rejected me. Rejected my genius, my ideas, everything that I possibly was. I was trying to help. I was trying to aid our government, to help people to better defend themselves while faced with war. Don’t you think that matters to me? I just wanted to help.”

“You murdered people. You murdered thousands in selfish acts. All you did was cause pain and suffering.”

Severin gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t dare be outsmarted by a stupid brat.

“It was,” he hissed, “for the good of man.”

“You’re crazy,” Pierce rasped back. “You’re a no-good liar. You’re an evil, malicious person that corrupts just for your sake and nobody else’s�"AAH!”

Severin whacked the gun across the boy’s cheekbone, the cold metal breaking and bruising the skin.

“You know nothing.” He turned to the doorway. “Willow will be coming for you. But it’ll be the last time you see her. Ever.”

The door slammed shut, leaving Pierce half a bloody mess.

 

_____

 

He held the phone long after Willow had hung up.

He could barely believe that he had told the secret he had been harboring for what seemed like a thousand years. And she loved him back.

“She loves me…but…I can’t believe that she loves someone else…I can’t believe it…”

Allister sunk to the ground and placed the phone on top of his bed.

“I wanted her so much to say that she was able to b with me…but I know better. I know that she loves someone else,” he said to himself. He stared at the wall. “I hope that, whoever she loves, he treats her well because Willow is beautiful and deserves someone good. She really does.”

And Al also wondered what her answer would be to his invitation to dinner at his house with his mom. He knew it would be as friends, of course, not as a couple. He accepted well and fully that Willow wanted to stay friends with him.

“I could never abandon her. Never would I. I love her too much, especially as a friend. I’ll always be by her side to protect and love her. I just hope that she knows that she’s not alone.”

 

_____

 

“God, I feel helpless! What am I supposed to do? I can’t possibly run off again. I’ll be punished for sure! Grr!”

Willow growled in frustration at her situation. Pierce was in danger, and here she was, helpless to do anything to aid him. She really wanted to go now, but she couldn’t figure anything out.

Weirdly enough, her thoughts wandered to Allister and his invitation over for Thanksgiving dinner. She grinned to herself.

“I’ve got it.”

She picked up the phone that was beside her in the chair and dialed Al’s home phone number. It rang just once before someone picked up on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Al?”

“Willow? Jeez, that was quick. Are they�"?”

“Al…I need you to do something for me.”

“Willow,” Al said stone-cold into the phone, “what?”

“Well…I need you to cover for me. I told you that I’m being punished.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And I really need you to say that I’m over at your place. It’s an emergency. If my foster parents catch me, I’ll be in deep trouble. Can you please just do this one thing for me? Please?”

“Willow…” he said, beginning to protest. He sighed, making the reception full of static for a second. “Fine. I’ll do it. Because I love you. I’d do anything for you, and you know it. What should I do?”

“I’ll write a note saying that I’m over at your house to pick something up.”

“Which you really have to do ‘cause I have your backpack.”

“Really? I mean, okay. And they’ll probably call your house to check in with me. Just say that I’m in the bathroom or something. That’ll covince’em.”

“Are you sure about this? Positive?” asked Al.

“Yes. I am.”

“Okay…notice that I didn’t even ask what kind of emergency it is.”

“Yes, Al. Thank you so much. I really do love you, and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just do what you’re gonna do, and do it good, okay?”

“Okay. See you.”

Willow quickly hung up the phone and darted upstairs to her room. She rushed over to the closet and lifted out her smoky-smelling Black Widow clothes. Dirty and nearly burned as they were, it was the only thing she could really wear. She slipped on her red leather zip-up top and her black leather pants. She strapped on that belt of hers that bore her famous Black Widow red hourglass symbol. She released her hair from their two high ponytails and shrugged into her long black leather coat.

She was ready for action.

 

_____

 

Guards were posted outside of his “prison,” but Pierce doubted they would be needed because he was too weak and tired to even attempt to escape.

Pierce’s left cheek bled furiously and was half bruised from the gun Severin had whacked into his cheekbone. It throbbed so badly that he could actually feel his heart pounding in his head. The side of his lip also trickled a bit with blood, as did the opposite cheekbone with where he was whacked with the gun.

In other words, his entire head was pounding with pain.

“Willow…please…”

Pierce ripped a piece of blood-soaked cloth from his long-sleeved shirt. He patted it against his wounds in order to clean himself up a bit. It barely worked, though, because the blood that leaked from both cheeks soaked the cloth. He threw it down weakly onto the ground around him. His cut lip swelled just a little and dried blood crusted it. Dried blood also surrounded his cheek wounds, which still trickled with some red.

He leaned back into the wooden wall.

“Please…Willow…I need you…get here soon…”

 

_____

 

Agatha and Michael arrived home. Aggie carried a large turkey in the crook of her arm and in the other a tub of stuffing. Mike wielded a big bag of potatoes.

When they opened the door to their humble abode, everything was silent.

“Willow?” called Aggie. “Willow! Where are you?”

“Willow,” said Mike, “come here. Now.”

But no one replied. Aggie pursed her lips again in a thin line.

“Please, Willow,” she whispered, “you’re in enough trouble as is. Don’t make it worse for yourself.”

She carried the food to the kitchen. On the counter she spotted a small note.

 

Aggie,

 

I went over to a friend’s. I think you’ll remember Allister Waterman from school. He invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner. Sorry that I went before you got home and didn’t get permission.

Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.

 

�"Willow

 

“Mike! Mike, come here.”

“What is it?” he asked, entering the kitchen. “You know where Willow went?”

“Yes, in fact,” she replied, holding up the note to him.

Mike snatched it into his own hands. He grazed his eyes carefully over the words on the paper. When he was finished, he placed it on the same counter and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Doesn’t she know that she’s punished?”

“Can’t you just let her off this time? Technically, Willow’s not doing anything wrong.”

“Except for going out without our permission,” Michael said.

“Yes, but,” she said, raising her eyebrows at him, “can’t you just excuse this one little mishap? Just once? Please?”

“Well,” he considered, “…fine. I will. But next time she’ll have to ask us before she goes out.”

Agatha smiled at him.

“Thank you.”

She kissed him gently on the lips and shook out her honeyed blondish-brown hair.

 

_____

 

Arachne somersaulted through the open air. She played her wrists out and spider ropes erupted from them. They locked onto the metal of a tall skyscraper. Arachne thrust herself forward by pulling back and then releasing like a slingshot. She flew through the air; her heart lurched, but she didn’t dare sneak a glance from below her. She knew she would be scared to death.

“Please, God. Please let Pierce be okay,” she pleaded.

She had taken off by spider ropes instead motorcycle because she knew it was faster. Arachne knew that, from the recorded message on the phone’s answering machine, Pierce was somewhere in downtown Crescent City. In beating up criminals, she had often heard of a place called “the Underworld.” Though she had never been there herself, she knew that was where the worst criminals in the city ran loose. It was their territory; they owned it by call of claim, not by law.

And that was exactly where she was going. She knew it was dangerous but she had to. Ever since she met Pierce, she had been in love with him; even before she knew it, she always had been. And she couldn’t bear to lose someone else close to her. Not now. Not after Viola’s death. It would be way too much for her to handle all on her own,

Arachne landed on the top of a building. She glanced down at the streets for a minute. They were bustling with people; the crowds rushed here and there, eager to be home with their families on Thanksgiving Day.

“I nearly forgot that it was Thanksgiving,” Arachne murmured to herself. “With all that happened today, I almost forgot.”

She closed her eyes and reminisced of a happier time.

Arachne was a little kid again. Her short black hair was swept back underneath a plain black headband. She was sitting across from her mother in a fancy restaurant. She was giggling and chattering away with her mom. They both smiled happily. And she saw her eyes. They were untainted by darkness; simply pure and innocent. Arachne remembered that one Thanksgiving fondly. It was the last one she ever had with her mom before she was murdered months later. With her job as a secretary in Crescent City, Lily Halliwell hadn’t been paid much. But she had been saving up money for an occasion like this where they could actually afford something nice for once.

Her eyes burned at the memory and her heart hurt so badly. As she opened them, a single tear rolled down the side of her cheek and into the air. It hit the street below. Arachne gazed into the distance mournfully. That’s why she became who she was today. To fight for those who never got the chance to defend themselves. To do what others didn’t have the nerve to do; to fight for what was right in the world.

“And I’m not gonna let him take Pierce away from me,” she hissed.

In the high sun, she took off from the top of the building. Arachne swung out, reenergized by the thought of those who she loved, dead and alive. The people below were too engrossed with their own activities to notice her soaring around from building to building in broad daylight. As she swung, the buildings started to get more and more rundown. Smog lingered over the horizon and the sickening smell of urine rose to greet her nose. She wrinkled her nose but kept on moving. Some buildings were so rundown that they actually began to crumble.

Arachne sweated hard, dripping thickly with water. Swinging was great exercise for the arms. Her breathing was hard; her lungs hurt but her sides ached even more. She landed as gracefully as a cat on the cracked pavement of the old part of downtown Crescent City. She rose up slowly and cautiously; her sharp, focused eyes caught every single detail around her.

“Where are you, you b*****d? Where are you hiding?” she growled quietly.

All she heard in reply was the wind rustling papers and dry leaves around on the ground. Arachne knew that the Underworld was around here somewhere. It was just a matter of finding the entrance that really worried her.

She eyed a stairway that led down into the ground.

“Hmm…it really is ‘the Underworld’,” she chuckled to herself. She ascended quickly down the stairs and entered a deep tunnel. There were metal benches, ticket booths, and a long track that ran both ways. “Clever…an abandoned subway. Couldn’t think of a place myself.”

Arachne stepped out farther, away from the stairs and the sun’s natural light. It was pitch black and dead quiet in the tunnel. The only sounds that she heard were the rustling of mice or rats in rotting garbage and the deep rumbling of another subway train farther away from here in the hustle and bustle of the heart of the city. Carefully, she ventured onto the rusted metal tracks that she was able to see in the light that flooded in. The air was stale and moist, rushing against her face, cold and putrid. She grimaced, but began to walk away from the light and into the darkness of the Underworld.

From her pocket she withdrew a small, thin-shaped tube and clicked it. A bright light protruded from one end. It was a penlight; not overly bright, but enough for her to see by in the dark. Arachne knew that if it was called the Underworld, she was going to need some type of light to guide her by.

She walked and walked, traveling farther and farther away from the sun’s rays until she could no longer see them. All she could see, and feel, was a cold darkness that crept up her spine. The silence made her extra wary, except for each sound she heard, it sent her heart throbbing uncontrollably until she later finally managed to calm herself down again. Her boot stepped on something rubbery and worm-like. She heard a loud squeak.

“Ah!” she gasped. Her gasp echoed off the walls and into the tunnel.

Arachne jutted her penlight in the direction of the sound and saw the back end of a rat running away into the darkness.

“God…I’m gonna eventually go crazy in this place…”

It felt like forever as she walked.

“I wonder if I’m just not going around in circles. That would be a real waste of time.”

Arachne was starting to get impatient with her situation. Where the heck was the underworld?

“Aren’t I supposed to be there by now?” she shouted at the blackness.

It answered back by echoing faintly in the distance.

“Wait…” Her hearing picked up how the echo didn’t continue on. “The echo…it stopped.”

And as she pondered over the echo, something in her mind clicked. Wary, she switched off her penlight and leaned, back first, into the concrete wall behind her. She shoved it into her pocket and slammed her eyelids shut. She brought her hand around the edge of the wall. There was an edge, which meant there was a corner, which meant…that it lead somewhere.

Eyes still closed, she listened. She heard faint footsteps, squeaking of rodents, and whispered voices. Slowly she opened her eyes. They adjusted to the darkness well enough to see around her. She peered around the corner and saw the trail simply end into an open area. A dim blue light filled the area. She squinted slightly at it. When she looked closer, she saw that a few people shuffled around, but most of them appeared harmless. It was the rich-looking ones she had to really worry about.

Arachne turned back to the darkness and sorted out the facts she had gathered from just what she saw. Why did the subway tunnel end so adruptly? Must be because the people that resided down here used the materials of the tracks, mostly the metal, for money and buildings. And where did the rich criminals live? They must be hidden, and not out in the open like their opposites, which were homeless and hungry and only stole what they needed for survival.

Arachne still didn’t know that much, though, so she couldn’t really answer all of the questions she had building inside her. It was more than likely that the criminals that lived around here knew about her “crime fighting streak.” And they were likely to be wary of any new comers that entered their territory. Carefully, she began to climb the concrete tunnel wall. The bristles on her fingers enabled her with the awesome ability to scale buildings, and, in this case, concrete walls. The stone was grimy and filthy.

Don’t clean much, now do they?

She climbed the wall slowly until she was upside down and hanging from the ceiling. She scaled the corner and went around slowly so that she wouldn’t fall and be discovered by the criminals. Like the infamous arachnid she harbored the abilities of, Arachne scurried across the wall and onto the extremely high ceiling. She stared down at the pathetic crims that wallowed in rags and filth. They weren’t even worth the time and energy to beat up; anyone could easily see that. Besides, she had much bigger fish to fry. Still, she watched them vigilantly for any sings of them detecting her presence. So far, there were none.

The weak blue light that flooded in began to slowly morph into warmer, more pleasant tones. Soon, the light changed completely from a faint azure to a welcoming bright yellow. She knew she was somehow, in an odd way, making progress. At least she didn’t have to gaze down constantly on dirty street rats. Thing was, though, she had absolutely no idea where to go from here. She looked around in desperation, gathering herself for what she was about to do.

Arachne stuck a white, sticky spider rope onto the ceiling. She wound it out from her wrist gently. She held onto it carefully and slowly lowered herself to the ground. She knew very well that she was risking the good cover she had built since she entered. And now they were about to discover her. She so hated doing something this stupid and ridiculous.

Stop it! This is for me Pierce. I love him. I finally realize that. If I love him, I’ll do this and suffer through it because it’s worth it. I don’t want him, or anyone else, to die because of me…or my father.

Convincing herself for a final time before she went in, Arachne inhaled deeply. Her heart hurt so much; not because of sadness. It was something much stronger than any other human emotion there was. An emotion that could weaken the senses and cloud the mind, yet it propelled one to make choices and risks never offered before. And it was what Arachne was feeling very strongly before she went in.

She was feeling love.