Spider-Woman: First Contact

Manhattan

Home to some of most well-known streets, buildings, people and, more recently, cases of large scale property damage. Ever since super-powered individuals emerged into the modern era, they seemed to be drawn to the New York, and more specifically Manhattan, like moths are drawn to a flame. And with them came their grudges and fights. Destroyed cars, streets and entire buildings had turned into an occasional, though not exactly commonplace, sight on the island. Keeping away from them, at least until the proper authorities had arrived, had become second nature to most residents. Nobody wanted to find him or herself on the wrong end of a super-strong fist or worse.

This time a warehouse right next to Hell's Kitchen had been the arena for one such showdown. Only rubble remained, with no sign of anything or anyone left around it. Buried under that large pile of rubble was Spider-Woman. Her costume was in tatters and what little remained of it no longer concealed her real identity as Gwendolyn Stacy. Both her left arm and leg stood at an odd angle and she had lacerations all across her body. Yet Spider-Woman was still alive. For how long she would stay so, however, was another matter. Luck seemed to have been on her side, such as it was, for she wasn't completely buried in debris but had instead fallen into a basement level mostly clear of it. However, she was still unconscious and bleeding. Without help she would likely die.

Through her torn apart mask a twitching eye was visible, signaling that the blonde vigilante was waking up. At the same time thoughts were running through Gwen's head, unfocused and jumbled, her mind still too confused and hurt to completely wake up. What had happened? Where was she? Was it day or night? She couldn't move and her eyelids felt like they were glued shut. Breathing was hard, too, and it felt like wherever she was, it was chock full of dust.

She began regaining control over her thoughts, but thinking hurt and what few details came back to her did so almost reluctantly. There had been a fight or more like a battle. Gwen, in her Spider-Woman guise, had tried to stop the Scorpion from robbing a money transporter. What happened then had been a mess, in more ways than one.

New and improved Spider-Slayers had jumped out of nowhere; the Scorpion totally ignored his loot and started attacking her in tandem with the upgraded machines. Never before had Smythe, inventor of the Spider-Slayers, worked together with anybody, but there it was.

The machines fired their blasters indiscriminately at her, not landing a single hit, but destroying the money transporter and only narrowly missing the policemen. And yet these same cops had trained their guns at her just as fast as they did on the manic guy robbing them.

This let her thought-process grind to a halt. Why did that police officer nearly shoot her? Why was nothing she did ever enough? She was so sick and tired of being called a menace, of being hated by everyone. Most other costumed heroes were as jumpy around her as they were around hardened criminals. The giant signs with Peter's face on them were doing their part, too. Wasn't it enough that she kept seeing him dying in her arms at night? He had been her friend, a genius with a great future in front of him. And now he was gone, all because Gwen had failed.

Did these people think she had forgotten him? Did they think that she had simply moved on? Gwen was sometimes convinced that most everyone simply enjoyed hating something. It was frustrating and... No! She wouldn't lose sight of her aim and she would not look for excuses. Getting through all this was a tough challenge, but one that she would overcome. First she needed to remember what had happened and how she had ended up in her current situation. Then she could decide on what to do.

Trying to focus on what had occurred, after she had tried to lure the Spider-Slayers somewhere less crowded, caused a stab of pain in her head. Once again Gwen made an effort to open her eyes. She wasn't really able to connect what had happened with what was going on. She didn't believe that she had been captured; the robots had seemed hell bent on killing her. And the only thing she kept hearing, were pebbles landing on solid ground. Slowly she managed to pry her blue eyes apart, though, even after they were open, it felt like an eternity before she could actually discern anything. She was inside a large room with a high ceiling and dozens of smashed crates surrounded by rubble. Then it came back.

The Spider-Slayer had naturally been in hot pursuit of her and the chase had led them to a warehouse not far from the less pleasant parts of Manhattan. Those new robots had been so much more sophisticated than the last batch, able to match Gwen's movement speed and only somewhat weaker. What they had lacked in strength and agility they had more than made up in firepower and numbers, both of which had contributed to collapsing the building on top of her. She had managed to weave through falling debris for a few moments, before she had been finally hit and lost consciousness. It seemed that she had broken through the main floor and dropped into the basement. Considering that the collapse of the building would in all likelihood have killed her, this had probably saved her life.

It did nothing for her pain, though. Still, better injured than dead. Working through the pain she got her right hand to twitch. Gwen focused on her arm and she managed to nudge it around a few inches. The numbness started to disappear and was replaced by a stinging sensation. The Web-Shooter felt fine and unbroken, too, though she couldn't be certain without taking a real look at it. Encouraged, she tried to repeat that feat with her left, but that only earned her excruciating pain. That wasn't what she had expected and she tried to move her legs. Neither budged an inch. Panic started to mount and she tried again. And again, neither moved, but her left leg suddenly felt like it was on fire.

Gwen tried to calm down and steadily moved her head to the left. She quickly wished she hadn't. The pain should have been a clue, but seeing is believing and what she saw was an unevenly broken arm. Frustration mounted as feeling returned to her body. She would now need to go to a hospital and that meant certain discovery. With her amount of injuries, there would be no 'I fell down some stairs'.

Summoning what strength remained in her body, Gwen propped herself up on her right arm. Her eyes trailed along the rest of her body. It seemed that her left side took the brunt of whatever happened after she lost consciousness, her leg was clearly broken, too, though, not to the extent of her arm. Judging by the painful sensation she got from trying to take a deep breath, a rip or two were cracked as well. Gwen wasn't even trying to count the many, many bruises, cuts and gashes. Her right leg seemed to be buried under debris. She could barely feel it. Her body was in horrible shape. And, to add insult to injury, her costume was reduced to rags, not able to protect Gwen's modesty, let alone her identity.

Despite her pain and the obvious danger of her situation, annoyance started to replace panic. Too tired to move, the young vigilante tried to get an idea of her surroundings. The basement seemed more or less stable, for now. A couple of crates had spilled their contents, which were mainly building supplies. There was also an oil spill close to her, creeping steadily closer. She tried to keep her mind occupied, to distract herself from her pain. It had always worked for her during fights.

"Great, not only am I half-naked, injured and hungry. Soon I'll be covered in oil. I can see the headlines of the Daily Bugle already 'Spider-Menace polluting environment!'" Gwen groaned. Speaking had made her aware of how parched her throat was. How long had she been down here? She wondered whether she could somehow recover fast enough to get herself out of her quandary, before someone else found her. Gwen knew that she bounced back from injuries faster than any human, but right now she'd give a lot to have a bit more of that. Like that one guy from Canada. Wolverine, she thought, was his codename and he was part of the Alpha Flight, a state sponsored group super-powered people. She had seen footage of him going toe to toe with the Hulk and getting back up again and again. Being hit by that jade bundle of anger management issues was definitely not on her to-do list. He threw around tanks like a normal guy would a baseball. But Wolverine's brand of healing ability would be useful now. Though, she wasn't certain how fast it actually was. He never had looked like he had a broken bone, so what did she know? Come to think of it, there were a lot fewer news reports about them.

Gwen decided to lie back down again, just as a ball fell from the floor above and landed about of few feet away startling her. It was just out of her reach and kept rolling a bit until she could no longer follow it without moving. And she didn't want to, because her head was still feeling like it was on the verge of mounting a rebellion against movement. Her backpack held some mild painkillers and she wished she had it with her. She was at a loss of how to get out of this place on her own. She was simply too injured to make it out by herself. The ball returned, this time it was rolling towards where the oil spill had been. The foundation must have been built slightly uneven.

Suddenly a feeling of distinct wrongness came over Gwen. If the ball was rolling towards the oil spill how could the oil flow towards her? And what was crude oil doing in a warehouse full of building supplies in the first place? She made to sit up again, faster than she probably should have, but she just needed to see that everything was fine.

It wasn't.

The pain must have blocked out any other sensation, because Gwen couldn't believe what she saw. Her left leg was covered halfway to her knee in what she had thought was oil. And it crept up further, dissolving what had remained of her costume along the way. Right at this moment, a distinct odor of fresh meat became noticeable. A scream of primal terror escaped her. She didn't want to end up like this, be digested by some monster-slime!

But Gwen wouldn't just give up! She grabbed a floor tile, using her inhuman strength to gain leverage. With an almighty pull, fueled entirely by fear and adrenaline, she dragged her right leg halfway out of the pile of rubble. Whatever that black stuff was, it seemed unconcerned by her struggle for now. Taking heart in her progress she gritted her teeth and tugged again and again. And she did it! Her foot really did come loose!

Her elation was short-lived, however. The fresh gashes were one thing, but when Gwen tried to put pressure on the foot, pain shot up through it. It was most likely sprained. Still, Gwen wasn't done yet. Using her still healthy arm she ripped a large part of the creature off and began to pull herself away. As that didn't succeed in putting her out of danger fast enough, she resorted to her still functioning Web-Shooter.

A cruel tug at her left leg made her lose her balance and her head hit the ground. That ended whatever ideas Gwen had about getting away. The creature was clearly fed up with Gwen's escape attempts and redoubled its efforts to smother her. As a last ditch effort she aimed her Web-Shooter at the central mass of the creature and tried to contain it with her webbing. Contrary to the girl's fears, it seemed not able to quickly dissolve her webs. But try as she might she couldn't trap the creature. Her sight was swimming and her head throbbing and with just one arm she was too damn slow! She forced head from left to right and back again. There had to be something to get her out of this! Something! Anything!

Nothing.

Moments passed, Gwen felt her right hand tremble and she fought down the urge to sob. Panic had started to give way to resignation. She couldn't do it. Whatever this black goo was, it would consume her. Gwen would die here, alone and forsaken by everyone, with nobody to blame but herself. Peter, too, would be quickly forgotten. His death would end up being nothing but a rallying cry for one more hysterical politician.

She stopped struggling against what she now believed to be inevitable. Instead Gwen started to observe the liquid being. Before she had turned to super-powered heroics, Gwen had been just as fascinated by natural sciences as Peter. That had been the reason she had gone with him to the exhibition that resulted in her powers, in the first place. That and because she had really liked the kind and intelligent boy.

It had gone back to covering her left leg. By now it was slightly above her knee. She could still feel nothing but pain, though. There was a large, still bleeding gash right next to the current edge. She felt no pain from where she was already contaminated, or rather not more pain. Then Gwen noticed that she could see the outlines of her foot, even the toes were clearly visible, despite being covered for some time now. In fact, the layer there had lost some of its liquid appearance. From what she could see it was smooth, a bit glistening and evenly spread, similar, but not quite like an animal's hide. What purpose did that serve? Was it trying to cover her in some kind of cocoon before consuming her, like a spider would?

"And another headline in the making: 'Spider-Woman devoured by alien Spider-Goo!'" Gwen whimpered. The irony was destined to go unappreciated if that would prove to be the case. But what else was left to her other than gallows humor? Thinking as rationally as she could in this situation, the teenager realized that escape had never been an option. She had only injured herself further and if the creature didn't kill her, she made almost sure that she wouldn't last long enough to celebrate her good fortune.

Gwen watched curiously as small tendrils sprouted from the main black mass and connected with more of her skin. Once it had covered the gash, Gwen expected it to do something with such a large opening in her skin. It didn't. It covered the skin around and more or less filled the injury. Then the gash seemed to close itself, until only the smooth and even black layer remained, still glimmering a bit like slime.

Concentrating on that point told the girl that it wasn't instantly healed, but instead expertly stitched together. With a layer of black covering the part, no sign of the injury remained. Gwen was wondering how this was possible. Did the creature form some kind of sutures from inside of her body? It couldn't be something on the surface; the black layer appeared far too thin to conceal anything that superficial. That, however, meant that her entire body was crawling with small amounts of an unknown, possibly alien creature. With all the cuts on her legs, that was hardly a problem, even if you discounted skin pores. Thinking about this made her shudder.

Still, there was nothing to be done about it, so Gwen continued to observe. The being crept up faster and started to dissolve the rags on her right leg. On her left it was up to where she expected the fracture in her leg to be. Once there it seemed to slow down and Gwen had to grit her teeth in order not to scream at the sudden agony emanating from her thigh. It was gone after what seemed like an eternity, but couldn't have been longer than a minute. It even took with it the constant pain of her broken thigh-bone.

Gwen could, again, feel that the bone wasn't magically whole, but rather well treated and supported. In fact, she could now move it with only moderate discomfort. And in just that moment she could also sense something cooling around her right ankle. Looking there she could observe the swelling receding, especially with her foot only covered in a thin black film of whatever that thing was.

"What are you? Why are you doing this?" Gwen's voice was a hoarse whisper and she was barely aware she had just said something. Without warning her mind was filled with images. They depicted an injured and emaciated stray cat being covered by the creature. What resulted was some form of B-Movie monster: Smooth, hairless skin, a long, whip-like tail, dangerous looking talons and a downright vicious snout, filled with dagger like fangs, salivating where it stood. But before Gwen could even think about being transformed into a monster, the image changed to the goo separating from the feline and it looking far healthier than it did before, as well as completely normal and not at all monster-like.

"Sooo....you want to help me, somehow?" The girl asked sounding hopeful. The idea of an interstellar, and gooey, Good Samaritan travelling the world and saving whatever needed saving, struck Gwen as absurd. This time she expected an answer and, while she got no new images, she was filled with the idea of being correct. The creature probably didn't how communicate through normal means. Or rather what passed for normal for Gwen wasn't likely to be normal for it.

Gwen knew she should feel happy. Karma had finally decided to cut her some slack, but the young misfit was just stunned. Ever since Gwen had woken up that day she had been through a roller-coaster of emotions. Confusion, anger, elation, panic, pain, despair, hope and everything in between and Gwen was simply done, too emotionally drained to feel anything. She just sat there in a stupor, eyes watching nothing in particular. Of course, that didn't apply to the alien creature, which continued to cover her lower body, knitting together her many injuries.

This continued for a few minutes, the advance of black stopping every few inches to take care of another bruise or wound. Gwen regained control of her faculties - a lot faster than someone as tormented as her should be able to - and just in time to feel a slight draft around her crotch. Looking down she saw that the fabric around her hips had been dissolved, completely exposing her. Not that there was anyone around to see it, but that didn't stop her for turning beet red. And sure enough she could feel something probing her privates. Gwen started to worry that this might go in a terrible direction. Perhaps it was sensing her apprehension or perhaps it had no great interest to begin with, but it settled on smoothly covering her crotch.

"I was afraid I had to teach you a lesson in propriety. And after my time with 'The Mary Janes' I can't be considered a credible source for that. Can't believe I let Em Jay talk me into joining them in the first place... We were nothing but tools for attention to her, heh! Oh well, being part of the band had been fun while it lasted," She sounded for one moment just like a normal teenager.

Pushing her worries about her former life to the side, she busied herself by going back to examine the creature again. As the minutes passed, Gwen was growing more comfortable with her strange helper. At least she decided it was a helper. That was a lot more productive now that she wasn't expecting her imminent death anymore.

For the first time since coming into contact with the creature Gwen could feel it covering her body. Her legs had been too numb and in pain for something as light as the black goo to register. She watched with curiosity as tiny tendrils shot out of the black mass, the touch registering as barely more than wisps of hair brushing against her skin. Then they pulled the rest after them. For a moment it seemed like she would be closely coated in some fleshy tissue before the sensation disappeared nigh completely.

By then her stomach had been completely covered. It would probably go a lot faster if it didn't have to stitch her body together, too. Observing it, Gwen was just filled with questions, questions beyond the simple 'What is it?' or 'Where is it from?’ Sure she wanted to know that, too, but wouldn't get an answer without either the creatures help or some very advanced equipment. So she tried to get answers on more immediate questions.

Like, for example, how fast it could spread. Was it limited by a certain speed or how much area it had to spread from? To get an answer to that she moved her broken arm towards the slimy part of her helper and watched. And just as she had hoped the creature continued its way up her chest along her breasts and simultaneously up her hand. Pushing the arm further down, despite the pain, she tried to give it as much room to work as possible. Right then she remembered that she could move her legs and crawled closer to what remain of the puddle.

There wasn't much left but the moment her hands touched it, it crept up and covered them as tightly as the rest of her. By now there was little anxiety left, only a weird mix of curiosity and gratitude. After all this time something was finally there to help Gwen. Not point fingers, ignore or downright reject her, but real, tangible help! So what if it looked gross? She had already made the mistake of thinking it evil, because it looked odd. Until she got something that proved her wrong, she would assume that the creature was benevolent in nature.

A wave of appreciation told Gwen that it was just as unfamiliar with courtesy and cooperation as she was with help. She yelped as the appreciation was quickly followed by pain. Of course. Her arm was being fixed. This time it took longer to heal and Gwen tried as hard as she could to keep it together. The feeling of remorse coursing through her helped. Her new friend didn't want to hurt her and Gwen couldn't really be angry at it. It probably was numbing the pain as best it could, but she was used to it anyway. Healing faster never meant healing without pain. Just as she thought that she could deal with it, her chest felt like someone had jabbed a crowbar in there and started to make room for some extra filling. She had pretty much forgotten about her cracked rips. Try as she might, the young girl just couldn't take it anymore and convulsed on the spot, as tears streaked down her face.

Once most of the pain stopped, Gwen continued to lie on the spot for a few minutes and composed herself. She was used to the aching and discomfort of accelerated healing, but this had been too much for her. The ordeal made her respect for that Wolverine guy turn up another notch. Anyone who could not only take a punch from green-and-mean, but also the pain of being knit back together near instantly was clearly badass. He must be able to control his pain better than most people could control their bladder.

As soon as she felt ready, Gwen made to stand up. Putting some weight on her left leg made it clear that she could deal with it. Recently injured limbs could usually not be used, much less strained, but what would be a strain for a normal person wasn't even a light workout for yours truly. She could throw around cars, standing up with a more or less mended leg wasn't exactly hard.

Gwen looked herself over as best she could without a mirror. The black alien thing had her covered skintight from the toes to the jawline. There was nothing left of her old costume and she felt a bit apprehensive and self-conscious about that. She could make out the outlines of everything, but details were obscured by her new, regular and blemish free black hide. There were no signs of finger- or toenails, no bellybutton, no nipples and her crotch was just as smooth as everything else.

The feeling of flesh on her skin was gone now. If anything Gwen felt like she was being hugged all over her body. It was close, personal and very comforting. She let her hands glide along her hips and wasn't surprised that she could feel every square inch of her skin, as if she was naked. Maybe even a bit better. After all, it could only communicate through voiceless feelings and images it had to be connected to her nervous system. Either that or it was telepathic and then it would, presumably, be able to transmit sensations, too. It seemed to linger and Gwen realized that part of the apprehension she felt wasn't from herself but from her unique friend.

"It's great you're helping me, but I can't really go out like this, can I? This is one step short of exhibitionism," She said, trying to be playful to get through this awkward situation. While Gwen was making an effort to be open minded about a creature living on or even partly inside her, she wasn't all that keen on being fully covered. Especially not when that meant looking like a fetish doll. She also wasn't planning on ending up like that cat from her memories, all fiend-out-of-hell looking. Although, it had probably been a lot of help to a stray, so she wouldn't judge her friend by it.

"If only someone hadn't eaten my costume we would have been free to leave this dump. As soon as I got rid of the rubble that is," Gwen continued to tease in a mock exasperated tone. Suddenly she had the impression that she had offended her roomie. That was certainly not her intention, but before she could open her mouth to apologize she felt her skin -for lack of a better- shift and flow around her body. Her eyes widened as slight panic set it. Had she hurt its feelings? Should she have kept her mouth shut? Wouldn't be the first time. Shrugging she decided to just stay as still as the adrenaline flooding her body allowed and show it the trust she had always wished for herself.

The first thing Gwen noticed was that the general surface settled for a slightly different look. It felt just as snug and comfortable as before, but no longer appeared quite painted on or skin-like. It seemed to only be a very well-tailored, formfitting, black body suit. An odd feeling made her look to her feet, where more of the black mass was converging and part of it changed its color. Quickly she could make out what they were trying to form: The same kind of shoes she had been wearing before, only instead of cyan they were white. A thrill went through her. Was there anything this being couldn't do? She started to check the rest of herself over for differences.

There were white strips starting from her shoulders. From each side one ran short and narrow stopping just above her breasts, while another ran the entire length of each arm and was nearly as wide as the arm, too. These ones stopped at the back of her hands. At the same time another narrow, white band settled just below her breasts, as if to secure them together with the one from her shoulder. Just as those were done she could see another pair coming from her back and settling themselves right above her hips. The way all this happened, with the white patches growing out of the black and snaking around her body, before they fastened themselves with the help of strands of black goo looked fascinating to her and felt like Gwen herself was changing.

Right when she wanted to prod the white stripe on the back of her hands, she noticed something that she didn't see before: All her fingertips ended in sharp claws. Not the sharpened nails variant that was so common among animals, but seamless looking talons, that were natural extensions of her fingers. The astonished girl doubted that these claws could be broken, without breaking her entire finger. The hands themselves looked a bit larger than before, too, without appearing over-sized. Clenching her hands into fists, Gwen couldn't help but wonder how normal, even good it felt, as if her hands were supposed to be this way. In fact, most of her body felt like this.

While she was busy being equally frightened and excited by this new change, she noticed neither the growing black hood nor the white mass creeping up her neck. Right as the weight of the hood became noticeable the right side of her face was beginning to be covered by white tendrils and they showed no sign of slowing down. Even as fear crept back into Gwen's mind, she kept on staring, mesmerized at the flowing black and white mass whirling around her body. She was now aware of the white obstructing her vision, but found herself not willing to act on her fears. Maybe this was how a deer caught in the headlights of a car feels? Probably not, but she was just as paralyzed as that animal would be.

First the sight in her right eye was crisscrossed with tendrils and then she couldn't see out of it anymore. Her mouth and nose were next and she quickly couldn't open the former. Breathing didn't seem to be a problem, though. Her hair stuck to her head, like when she had been wearing her old mask, only now it was filled with goo and felt somewhat heavier. The tendrils were now starting to cover her left eye and within moments she couldn't see anything. The tissue on her face tightened and she felt something enter her eyes and without warning her sight returned. Only it was better than before. Gwen never needed glasses, but she imagined that the effect would be similar: Everything was just a little bit sharper. What really freaked her out was that she could no longer feel the urge to blink. She could still smell with her nose and feel her mouth opening, but she really had her doubts that it could be seen on what passed for her face right now.

Looking around she found a large puddle of water at one of the walls. It was far from clean but would probably do as a makeshift mirror. Inside it she could make out the details that she couldn't see before, thanks to her now better sense of sight. Her mask was completely white, except for tear-shaped, black patches where her eyes should be. Not that different from her old costume. The hood was black but retained the spider-net pattern on the inside she had been so fond of. Sure it wasn't red, but that wouldn't fit her new look anyway. She could also feel the hood. Not exactly like an extra limb, but more distinct than how hair felt, there but not really.

A bit of experimenting proved that the movements of her face really were obscured. The four pairs of white stripes were connected at her back and seemed to form the legs of a stylized spider's thorax. There was no visible head on her back; it ended at the edge of her black hood. Thinking about it made Gwen realize that there was a head, namely her own. Without the black hood the stylized thorax would blend into it and make it a complete spider. There was even a thin abdomen running down her spine!

"This is incredible! Perfect even! Maybe a bit too perfect, someone with an eye for detail could probably tell that there was no way in hell to make a suit this formfitting and exact..." She fondly mused. Gwen let a hand glide over her face and savored the sensation this simple act caused. As she noticed the suit ripple again, she was quick to stop it. "No! Don't change anything! This is really great." Gwen added in a hurry.

The feeling of smug satisfaction coming from her new-found partner made her roll her eyes. Or at least she imagined doing that.

"Yes, I was wrong. Who needs a costume with you on board? That's what you want to hear, right? I don't mind admitting that, though the hands are a bit surprising. Still, stay like that. They will come in handy soon. Urgh I'm really losing my touch... luckily only the two us here, otherwise I'd never hear the end of these dumb puns," She said, flexing her aching muscles and checking her abused joints, Gwen got ready to start muscling her wait out of the basement. Alone she had been desperate and nearly lost her drive, but she wasn't alone anymore. And who knows? Maybe this was the start of a new beginning.

"Damn I'm hungry. I guess part of it comes from you. Must've been pretty exhausting fixing me up again. Don't worry, I'm not in a hurry to get hurt again," Her voice sounded confident. Gwen -no not Gwen- Spider-Woman pulled the hood up and enjoyed how little of her white head remained visible. She felt complete. With her eyes up she got ready to search for a way out.

"Well, let's get these fancy, new talons dirty."