Vol. 2 #4 - In The Claws...and Tail...and Wings...of The Chimera!

By Thomas Deja

"You do know what a Chimera is, don't you, Spider-Man?" she asked before one of those arms telescoped towards him, triple-pronged claws snapping.

Peter stepped back in surprise. Here he was, trying to save some unknown woman from being kidnapped by the sonic entity Klaw when this strange jumble of a woman appeared out of nowhere The tentacle came up just short of Spidey's face, and he took that second to grab ahold of it and swing. The airborne woman calling herself the Chimera went flying into a window above the 45th Street Gap that was clearly maked 'Accessway.'

The dark haired girl hobbled up next to Peter. "She's....she's hungry."

Peter looked at her. "What?"

"No, not hungry," she said, taking a moment to put on a pair of glasses. One of the lenses was missing, the other had a large crack running diagonally from side to side.

"Yearning."

"What are you--" Peter began to ask before he was smacked in the back hard. He went head first into the broken window of the opposite building and cracked his chin on the marble-finished tabletop of the security desk. For a brief moment, he worried his teeth were knocked loose.

"I've been looking to hook up with you for ages, arachnid," The Chimera drawled as she came speeding toward him, claws extended.

Peter's arm lashed out, grabbing hold of the woman's wrist. Muscles enhanced from the combination of a gift given him by a stray spider and years of training flexed, driving his enemy helmet first into the tabletop. The marble surface cracked from end to end.

"So what is this about, lady? Fame? Money? There a reality show taping I don't know about?" Peter asked as he webbed the woman down.

"It took months to gather and retrofit all these devices," she continued, seemingly ignoring her. Peter watched her turn under the web-blanket weighing her down. "took me six months to figure out how to plate this thing with the Rhino's hide alone. On the other hand, adapting the Prowler's pellet gauntlet to dispense that web-dissolving spray of Mysterio's was a snap."

"Web-dissolve..." Before Peter could respond further, greenish-gray mist began seeping from the mass of webbing. A hissing noise filled the air as fumes rose from the mess of webbing. Peter could see the shape of this new enemy moving, rising and finally breaking free of her bonds. Peter tensed and leapt just a second before she turned, her tail whipping around before her to smash the spot where he was. As he clung to a spot on the celing, he began to notice familiar portions of the woman's costume, even with its brownish red color. The tail, segmented and oval in shape with a larger hump that covered the bulk of her back was from the earliest costume of the Scorpion; the tentacles--

She looked up and smirked. "There you are, sexy."

Once more, the base of Spider-Man's neck tingled. He began dancing one step ahead of a barrage of blows by the Chimera's steel tentacles...tentacles that were unmistakably Doctor Octopus'. He grasp the edge of an arc and swung down to smack the woman in the head before taking a position behind it. A flexing of his wrists and those self-same tentacles were now tied to her sides.

"Please...I don't even need the mist to get rid of this thread." She seemed to swivel from the waist. A noise like cables snapping echoed off the lobby walls before the tentacles broke free. She looked upwards until she found Peter's position and whipped around, letting fly with her tail. Peter leapt into space, his body turning end over end before landing on his feet.

"You're slow, Chimp Tara."

"That's Chimera!" she growled and flew toward him at a rapid rate, claws extended. Peter waited until the last minute before he jumped high in the air. As he came down, feet extended with the interntion of smashing into the gravimetric generator that powered her flight, one of the tentacles wrapped around him ankle and held him fast. In a flash he was out on the street and across it. At the last second, Chimera changed direction, flying upwards along the surface of a nearby three-story brownstone. The momentum of her sudden change caused Peter to slam hard into the side of the building....once, twice, three times. And then she changed direction again, the slack nature of the tentacle swinging him so hard that Peter's head practically disintegrated a nearby cornice. His head rang, and for a moment he worried that this composite enemy of his may be his match.

He struggled to clear his mind and bent over, grasped the tentacle. Chimera was now flying low over the rooftops leading toward the East River, skimming close to aerials and access doors and circulation vents in such a way that Peter was smacking into each one. His fingers tightened on the segment of the tentacle closest to him and felt the satisfying sensation of the tough metal shell buckling. His other arm reached out to spin a thick webline that adhered to a chimney. The line grew taunt and for a split second Peter felt a pain in his shoulder that made him fear his arm was going to rip from his socket--

And it was the tentacle, not his body, that tore away. Spidey hit the macadam hard and skidded across the rooftop, tearing at his costume and his flesh. He dug his fingertips into the roof's surface until he came to a stop. The Chimera had already turned around and was coming at him rapidly.

"Paid a lot for this, right? Should be more careful welding the joins." Peter called out.

He heaved the damaged tentacle at Chimera's helmet. It hit the visor hard, spiderwebbing the surface. Chimera let loose with a string of curses and shot her pellet gun. Peter rolled over to keep from being hit.

"You're going to pay for that, Spider-Man," she vowed.

"Oh, for the love of...the cliches are getting old."

"As long as you're getting dead," Chimera spat out as she slashed his chest with claws Peter assimed were derived from the Black Cat's. "I'm good with that."

It's night, and the full moon shines on you, the silvery light making your pelt glow with a malevolent beauty. The coppery taste of the blood of your last kill is heavy on your breath; it's dramatic crimson stains your fangs. The panting sound of your breathing fills your ears, yet still you can detect your next prey in the distance. Emerald eyes narrow as you lower your body to the ground, two legs giving way to four, and the reddish-orange glow of your prey's form flits through the cold blue of the trees, growing larger and larger in your sights. The birds scatter in your wake, their fear sweet in your primitive mind.

You can see the prey now...a female of the species you once belonged to. Soft brown eyes and longish brown hair going past her shoulders, her heart slamming against her ribcage, the smell of her sweat causing saliva to fill your muzzle and drip down onto your barrel chest. You leap ahead and pounce on top of her, slamming her to the ground. Claws dig deep in her flesh, red swelling up in the divots. She makes whimpering noises in a language you can't understand, although somehow you know she's pleading for her life.

You raise your head up to the moon and howl before giving in to the feast....

John Jameson sat up in his bed, his sheets tangling up his limbs. His entire body was drenched in a sweat so cold that it made him shiver. John's head sank into his hands as one thought filled his mind.

"Not again."

Peter barely stepped back, but that still didn't stop the woman from tearing the chest of his costume to shreds. He silently cursed himself for not keeping his head fully in the fight, and he was paying for it with pain and his own blood slowly welling from the cuts. The Chimera rose in the air and lashed out with a roundhouse kick that caused him to fall back.

"At least you didn't get ahold of Tarantula's boot," Peter said under his breath and shot a gob of webbing in his opponent's face shield. Her hands went to the mess of grey webbing, which gave Peter the opening to stand up, grab hold of her leg and slam her to the ground. "How'd you get all this stuff?"

The one remaining tentacle slammed into Peter's stomach. He doubled over, just in time for her to turn on her belly and smash him in the face with her tail. "Surprised a big bad super-hero didn't know about the Black Hat market."

Peter stumbled back. His arm flashed out to snag the one tentacle....and then he regretted the action as the metallic arm whipped forward, bringing him in contact, face first with the chimney. The construct crumbled into a shower of mortar and soot.

"You can get anything online, big man," The Chimera cooed. He was driven into the rooftop as she slammed hard into his back. "There's an internet site that auctions off villian gear left from super fights....I've spent a long time buying up your enemy's stuff."

She landed blow after blow on Peter's shoulder and the back of his head. He struggled to keep his thoughts coherent. His arm reached out, scrabbled for something to fight back with. Grabbing ahold of a piece of masonry, he struggled for leverage until he was able to shift onto his sode, serving both to unmoor her position and give him the momentum to knock her in the side of her helmet. The item buckled on the point of impact, but kept secured on her shoulders. She smiled, the cracks in her visor making the grin seem inhuman.

"I can take whatever you give me, lover," she drawled.

"Lover? Look, lady, I don't do anything on the first date, let alone get bloody." Peter punched the Chimera, but the woman pulled away at the last moment so that the blow bounced off the shell of her armor.

"We can do this all day if you want."

"Not unless you want me to be the Amazing Naked Man," Peter said, extending his hands over his head. "You see what this lil' playdate has done to my costume?"

Her grin seemed to grow wider. The one tentacle lashed out and pinned Peter's right hand to the floor. She pinned the other with one of her clawed hands, gripping his wrist so tightly that she drew blood. The Chimera brought her head down close to his.

"How do you know I don't want you naked?"

Mary Jane watched Miranda, the receptionist for The Castillo Agency, coo over little May. It amazed her how fast her child--their child, hers and Peter's--was growing. As the young girl marveled at the baby's grip, she found herself smiling.

There was a time when Mary Jane thought that all she wanted was the spotlight. After living within it for so long, first as a model then as an actress, she realized nothing could match the joy of having a husband who loved her and a family she could take solace in.

"Oooooh, she has quite the grip," Miranda said in her faint English accent.

Mary Jane shrugged. "Her father's a tough one. It wouldn't surprise me."

"And he looks so...I don't know...slight." Miranda gently tickled the little child. "Aren't you precious?"

"Thanks for the backhand," Mary Jane replied, maybe a little too sharply.

"I didn't mean it like that, Ms. Parker. Your husband is quite an attractive man...he just doesn't strike me as a hardy type."

Before Mary Jane could respond, the door to the inner office opened. She shifted her gaze there to see the small form of Paolo Castillo, her agent. He smiled upon seeing her, and only then did anyone studying him see the lines around his eyes that betrayed the age an immaculate dye job, plastic surgery and healthy living fought against. "There you are, my dear. I was about to take a walk. Please join me."

Mary Jane gathered up May to her chest. "I'm sorry for bringing the baby, Paolo, but I couldn't find a sitter and--"

"No worries, no worries." He came up to her and put an arm on her back--so short was Paolo was that she felt his hand below her shoulder blade. "It is good you bring May....lets me keep an eye on her. If she grows to be half as beautiful as you, I shall have her signed to exclusive before anyone."

Mary Jane smiled softly. "That would be her decision, not mine."

"Of course, of course. I would expect no less." Paolo pushed the button for the elevator. "You and I, we both know how hard modeling can be for a young girl. That is why I ask you to come see me."

They waited together for a moment until the elevator doors slid open. Together, the former model and the agent stepped in. Paolo pressed for the ground floor and waited until the doors closed before he continued.

"How long have you and I worked together, Ms. Watson-Parker?"

Mary Jane laughed. "Forgive a woman her sense of mystery...let's just say I know it's been a long time."

Paolo joined her in laughing. He had an odd laugh--rich but with a slight reedy undercurrent. "I will give you that mystery...but I've been thinking about our situation, with your desire to be a stay-in-the-city mother, and I may have a solution that will allow you to work with me.

"You know of our 'camphouse' on 38th?" He waited until Mary Jane nodded before going on. "These girls who I allow to stay there, they are from far-away places, they do not know how to navigate the modeling business. Castillo, they could use an experienced model to guide them."

With that he turned to face her. "Would you be that model? Become our 'Home Supervisor,' teach our little ones and help me mold them into the next generation?"

Mary Jane paused and blinked. "I...I don't know..."

"My hope is that you learn more about the other side of the business, my dear. Maybe even become a full agent....I think you would be an agent I would be proud of, if I taught you right."

Mary Jane hugged her child. Her eyes wavered from May's chubby face to Paolo. "I would need to talk about it with my husband first...."

"Of course, of course. You take the time. I trust his imput will be worthwhile." The doors to the elevator slid open. "Ah, we are here. The three of us will enjoy the midtown air. Come."

But Mary Jane was only half listening....her mind was busy listening to the door of opportunity opening up in her head.

Peter felt sick upon hearing The Chimera's last statement. The taste of bile filled his mouth.

"Ick!" He brought his feet up hard and fast into her back, causing her to stumble forward. That put her into a position that allowed Peter to headbutt her. This time the shield of her helmet cracked apart, spraying him with pebbles of safety glass. He strained against her hands on his wrist; one arm was slowly raising up. "What makes you think I like spanking my girlfriends hard?"

The Chimera's tongue flicked out to lick her lips "Oh, please, bug boy. You're telling me you never get it on with hot lil' villians like me?"

Peter immediately struggled to put the Black Cat out of his mind. "That's none of your business! And even if I did, I've got a wife and kid!"

He pulled free of her grip and went to punch her. This time she was ready, using her tail to deflect the blow. "I'd do anything she doesn't, big boy."

"ICK! Just...just ICK!" With one hand free, Peter flexed his wrist and shot a wide webline, snagging an aluminum duct. Pulling hard, he brought the construct hurtling toward the woman. Her tentacles released its grip on his other arm and batted the debris away--and before she could react, Peter had a grip on her shoulder and flipped her over onto her back. He executed a sharp kippup and spun around, webshooters flashing. A steady stream of the sticky liquid cascaded down upon her torso and limbs rapidly, weighing her body down.

Only when his web cartridge was exhausted did he stop.

"Oooooh, that's how I like it, bug boy," The Chimera drawled.

"STOP SAYING THAT!" Peter said with a shudder. He could see the woman struggling under the mound he created. "Look, I know you're going to be through my webs, but I think I laid down enough that it'll take a while for you to free yourself. Cops should be there by then."

"Oh, come on, Spider-boy," The Chimera said, all sugary sweet. She batted her eyes. "I'm all helpless, and you're in control....I know you want--"

"STOP! Cripes, you're creepier than Morbius on a neck bender." Peter was busy changing his cartridge. The nausea rising in his stomach was kicking his fight or flight instinct into high gear.

"I told you I've been looking to hook up with you for a long time," she pointed out. "I'm so--"

"Please! You're...please."

"You'll be thinking about me tonight when you're kissing your wife."

Spider-Man shot out a webline. "Look, once they let you out of Ravenscoft...go bother Nova. I hear he's become a chubbie chaser."

"And she meant it?"

Peter put down his glass of wine. The baby monitor besides them gave off a quiet static that indicated that baby May was asleep. A gnetle rain had begun to fall, their drops sliding down the window and altering the nature of the light creeping in. "MJ, I've never been so freaked out. You would think with the Venoms of the world wanting to eat my brain I'd be hiding under the covers, drooling. But what she was saying, so straightforward, without anything to make it sound poetic."

"Oh, comon', Peter," his wife said, leaning in, hands on her chin. "You're not telling me that Spider-Man doesn't attract lots of groupies. And then there was Felicia..."

"Felicia was long before we became a item for good. As for groupies, I got only one I care about....a gorgeous redhead with the brains for both of us," he said ans leaned in to kiss her. She smiled, eyes closed as he pulled away.

"You not saying that to avoid a big fight, are you?"

"MJ...you know that you're my harbor."

"So I'm a place to dock your boat?"

Peter rolled his eyes semi-comically. "You know that's not what I mean..."

He took a moment, leaned in close until they were an inch of space between them. "Every moment that I'm out there doing my duty, you're first and foremost in my mind. The thought of you gives me strength, gives me that little push I need to go on. And when I'm done, you're the one I feel safe with, because I know I can say anything and you'll listen and help me work even the worst things out."

He kissed her again, this time a little harder, allowing a little more passion to press in on her. He felt her arms around him briefly. "Love you," she said into his mouth.

"Love you too," he repled. "With all my heart and soul."

Outside, on a rooftop opposite the Parker's apartment, a massive figure crouched. Wild hair clung damply to a suit that allowed him to retain his life long after his fellows had moved on. He gripped the cornice so hard that his handprint was carved into the motar. The lights in the rooms that he knew belonged to the Parkers flickered, then went out.

He remembered the words Osborn had said. This was why he came here first.

Because if he did not eliminate the possibility of Peter Parker being Osborn's new nemesis, Spider-Man would surely die.

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