A damp breeze whipped across the Brooklyn rooftop as Richard sat on the ledge, legs dangling, chewing on a burger wrapped in foil. Neon signs below flickered off and on. From up here he could see almost everything streets, alleys, rooftops and then something caught his eye.
Down on the far side of the block, two uniformed cops were shoving a young woman toward a side entrance of an old tenement. She stumbled, trying to pull away, but one of them barked something and yanked her arm hard.
Richard froze mid-bite.
Richard (under his breath): Oh no… not good.
He set the burger down on the ledge and tightened the black gloves of his suit. A second later he launched off the edge, web-line whistling, swinging down toward the building. His landing went wide; he slammed into a rusty dumpster with a hollow "clang!" and rolled off it, groaning.
Richard pushed himself up, brushing grime from his suit.
Richard: Smooth, Parker… real smooth.
He jogged to the side door where the cops had disappeared. The handle rattled uselessly it was locked from the inside. He exhaled through his teeth, flexed his fingers, and drove a single, controlled punch into the metal just above the lock. The frame dented inward with a crunch.
Richard reached in through the split seam, found the deadbolt, and twisted it. The door clicked open.
Richard (quietly): Showtime.
He slipped inside, shadows swallowing him as he went to find out what was happening behind that door.
Richard continue to walk until he finally stood at the far end of the dim, water-stained hallway. The buzzing of a broken neon light flickered above him. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, breathing slowly, letting his sharpened senses stretch outward. Faint voices carried from a room near the middle of the hall dirty cops speaking low, a frightened young woman answering in clipped, trembling words. Snatches of sentences floated through the door: talk of taking her cash, threats, ugly insinuations.
Richard's jaw tightened. He moved forward, each step silent on the cracked linoleum. When he reached the door he paused, flexed his hands, then pushed it open in one motion.
Richard (shout): Surprise, Motherfucker!
The three men inside jerked toward him. Before they could react, Richard shot forward. His fist smashed into the nearest man's jaw, sending him stumbling backward over a chair. The second lunged; Richard's boot met his stomach, folding him in half and knocking him into the table. Plates and papers flew as the wood splintered.
Another man reached for Richard's arm. Richard spun, grabbing him by the collar and driving him backward into the door frame. The impact tore the hinges loose with a screech and the door toppled flat onto the floor.
From across the hall a tenant came out, shirtless, tugging his pants up.
Tenant: What the fuck!
He didn't finish; Richard snatched up a nearby microwave from a counter and hurled it. It crashed into the doorframe next to the man's head, exploding in sparks and sending him diving back into his apartment.
The third attacker bolted from the bathroom, gun half-raised. Richard caught the first thug he'd hit and flung him into the hall as cover. Bullets cracked into the plaster. Richard ducked low, snatched the pistol with one gloved hand, and slammed its butt into the gunman's face. The weapon went off, deafening in the small room. He drove a knee into the man's ribs, then spun and smashed the pistol across the jaw of another who was charging from behind. Both dropped.
A third thug tried to lunge past. Richard pivoted, sweeping the pistol across the man's temple. The thug went down hard. In the silence that followed, only the woman's ragged breathing and the hum of a broken fluorescent light filled the air.
Richard lowered the gun, tossed it aside, and turned toward her.
Richard: You're safe now.
Then the woman's voice cracked with fear.
Woman: Behind you!
Richard spun just in time to see more dirty cops flooding into the hall. His eyes narrowed under the mask.
The first swung a pistol like a club Richard ducked low, twisted, and tore it free. He slammed it into the man's skull, dropping him, then hurled the gun across the hallway. It cracked another thug in the face, dropping him flat.
Another came from behind. Richard dropped low, sweeping his legs out. They both tumbled, Richard hitting the floor hard, grunting as the air punched out of his lungs.
All around, the beaten men groaned and stirred, dragging themselves back to their feet. Richard pushed up on one knee, panting, sweat streaking down his face.
The first guy lunged again. Richard darted sideways, planted a foot on the wall, and springboarded into a crushing punch that sent the thug flying back.
Two more surged at him together. Richard fought them off an elbow to one's jaw, a knee to the other's stomach but the first guy, bloodied but stubborn, swung wide and clipped Richard's temple. The blow drove him against the wall. He leaned there, chest heaving.
The fourth man rushed, fist cocked, but his swing went wide. Richard shoved him aside, stumbling forward. The fifth thug tried to seize the opening Richard growled, drove a fist into his ribs, and felt the bone crack under his knuckles. The man screamed and collapsed.
Richard's breath rasped. He staggered, but more came.
Richard: Another one? Jesus…
Three men circled him now. One swung. Richard ducked, slipping past the punch, but another caught him across the jaw. His head snapped sideways, vision flashing white. The third piled in. Richard lashed out in fury, grabbing the closest by the collar and ramming his knee up into the man's face. Blood sprayed.
One tried to blindside him Richard twisted, drove him into the floor with a brutal slam.
Two more advanced. One wrapped arms around Richard's throat, dragging him back in a chokehold. Richard clawed for breath, his lungs burning. He threw himself backward into the wall, crushing the man with a bone-rattling impact. The grip loosened, and Richard flung him aside.
The second thug was already swinging. Richard blocked, absorbing the blow, but the force shoved him out of the room and back into the hallway. His boots skidded across the floor.
The man charged. Richard pivoted, hammering fists into his throat twice. The thug gurgled and collapsed, choking for air.
Richard's ears caught movement. Another was dragging himself up. Without hesitation, Richard snatched up the shattered microwave, lifted it over his head, and swung it down. The thug caught the blow on his arm, snarling, and counterpunched Richard square in the ribs. The next punch slammed him into the opposite wall.
Blow after blow came Richard blocking some, others slamming into his body, each one shaking him to the core. He bared his teeth, absorbing the punishment until finally his fist exploded upward, smashing into the thug's jaw. The man toppled, out cold.
Richard staggered forward, chest heaving, vision swimming. His body finally gave out, and he collapsed through the doorway into the trashed room, falling to his knees, then to the floor.
The hall went quiet but for the groans of broken men.
Richard lay there, exhausted, staring at the cracked ceiling.
Richard: …still standing… barely.
Richard groaned, pushing himself up off the cracked linoleum. His muscles screamed, but the black AI-suit slid across his skin like a second shadow, its soft hum rising as it activated another sub-system. Tiny filaments shot from his gauntlets, snapping out like snakes.
"Thwip–thwip–thwip!"
In an instant, the remaining dirty cops still conscious were pinned to walls and floors, wrapped in bands of shimmering black webbing. They struggled, muffled curses echoing down the wrecked hallway.
Behind him, the terrified woman clutched her torn blouse, eyes wide.
Woman: Wh-what are you…?
Richard turned his masked face slightly, the white lenses of the suit catching the dim light. His voice came out low, rough but steady.
Richard: Me? I'm nobody, ma'am… just your friendly neighborhood vigilante. Black-Webs. For now, that's my name.
He glanced at the cocooned cops, then back to her, extending a gloved hand.
Richard: C'mon. Let's get out of here before more of them show up.
The AI-suit shifted subtly as he guided her past the groaning men, toward the smashed doorway. In the distance, faint sirens began to wail, echoing through the New York night.
With one arm around her, he shot a line of webbing skyward and launched them both into the night.
They landed on the rooftop where he'd abandoned his burger. Richard exhaled in relief.
Richard: Finally… made it. No crashing this time.
He set her gently on her feet.
Richard: You okay, ma'am?
The woman's shoulders started to shake. A low chuckle escaped, swelling into a sharp, mocking laugh.
Woman: Thank You So Much, Thank You For Being So Dumb.
Richard's eyes went wide behind the lenses.
Richard: What?!
Her form shimmered. Pale skin, black-etched lips, and snow-white hair erupted as the glamour dropped. Silver Banshee stood before him, smirking.
Silver Banshee: I was about to handle it myself, but you came to "save" me. And now consider this as my thanks.
She seized his arm. The AI's warning overlay blinked red across his HUD "Identity Compromise". His mask began to peel back in response to the spike in sonic energy. Richard tried to claw it closed, but she shoved his hands away.
Silver Banshee: What a handsome face you have.
Before he could react, she leaned in and kissed him hard on the lips then unleashed a thunderous sonic scream point-blank. The shockwave hurled Richard off the roof, crashing him down into a pile of garbage bags in the alley below.
Above, Silver Banshee strutted away, snatching up his abandoned burger as a trophy and taking a bite as she vanished into the shadows.
Down in the alley, Richard groaned, peeling himself out of the trash.
Richard (muttering): Gross... Rule number one… never kiss a white-haired woman…