"You know, for the most wanted man in New York, you were quite difficult to find," Kraven growled as soon as he reached the top of the building, his fingers pressing into the concrete while the night wind stirred the lion's mane draped over his broad shoulders. He didn't need to look around to know he was in the right place. The scent was there, an aroma entirely singular compared to any other human. The signature of his prey.
It had been ten days since he began that new hunt, ten days tracking rumors, interrogating criminals, following leads that always ended in nothing. Spider-Man had vanished.
And it wasn't for just any reason.
Apparently, since his last fight, the city's little hero had become one of New York's most wanted criminals. Posters with his face, or rather, with his mask, were plastered on every pole, wall, and corner. The police hunted him. The media defamed him. The city he protected now feared him.
Not that Kraven cared about that. In fact, the change in his prey's status meant only one thing: more competition. Other hunters, other predators, other madmen thirsty for blood or fame would enter the fray. And the more hunters there were, the greater the prestige of being the one to claim the prey. And that would be Kraven. As it always was.
"You... are you alone this time?"
The question came from above, low, firm, without the mocking tone that usually accompanied it. Kraven lifted his gaze and saw him at the edge of the neighboring building, a few meters higher, the moon outlining his red and blue silhouette against the dark sky.
"Yes," Kraven replied, baring his teeth in a predatory smile. "This time it is just you and me."
"Good..." Spider-Man took a step forward, dropping from the building. It was not a heroic leap, nor a theatrical movement. He simply fell, straight down, without firing a single web, as if he fully trusted his own body to absorb the impact. And when he hit the ground in front of Kraven, there was no sound beyond the faint displacement of air, no crack in the concrete or heavy breathing. He landed as if he weighed no more than a feather, bending his knees against the impact before slowly rising, the large white eyes of the mask fixed on Kraven.
"I was very disappointed in our last encounter," Spider-Man said, beginning to walk in slow, deliberate steps, each one invading more of Kraven's personal space, who felt a chill run down his spine, something that had not happened since his first hunt, decades ago, when he was still a foolish young man facing his first lion. "Aren't you supposed to be a great hunter? What kind of predator needs to team up with five others to take down a single opponent?" Spider continued, stopping inches from Kraven.
This would normally be the perfect moment to attack. His prey was close, vulnerable, within reach. His trained muscles should have fired in an automatic reflex. His claws should have been buried in Spider-Man's throat before he could blink. But something stopped him.
Kraven simply could not move.
His instincts, the ones that had kept him alive in the most hostile jungles in the world, in the most relentless deserts, in the most treacherous mountains, were screaming a single message in unison: RUN.
From the moment Spider-Man had landed in front of him, they had been like that, screaming, ordering him to run as fast as he could. A sensation of ice took hold of his body, beginning at the base of his spine and spreading like venom to the tips of his fingers, raising every hair on his body. His breath caught in his throat as his heart pounded.
Kraven could not understand what was happening.
In truth, he did understand. He simply did not want to accept it.
In his previous encounters with Spider-Man, he had never felt like this. But now... when he looked into those empty white lenses, when he felt the aura emanating from that body smaller than his own, when he breathed the charged air around Spider-Man... Kraven felt only one thing.
Fear.
Pure, primal, uncontrollable fear.
Something had changed since their last fight. Something fundamental, deep, something that had transformed the little arachnid into something Kraven could not recognize. Because now, on that rooftop, beneath that moon... he was the one who felt like the prey.
"Aren't you going to answer me?" Spider-Man tilted his head slightly, the white lenses still fixed on the hunter's yellow feline eyes, waiting for a response to his provocation. None came. "Fine, let's get straight to the point. You wanted me… so come on."
Those words, simple, direct, carrying a challenge so calm it bordered on insult, forced Kraven to act. After all, his pride was stronger than his instincts.
He took a step back to plant his feet, the concrete groaning beneath the force of his body, and then lunged forward in an explosive motion. His right arm sliced through the air diagonally, from top to bottom, the claws ready to tear through the arachnid's torso from shoulder to hip.
BAM!
The sound of impact echoed through the night.
'H-how?' Kraven's eyes were wide, his pupils dilated in a mix of shock and disbelief. His arm, which should have been stained with his prey's blood, trembled in the air, frozen mid-strike. Held by the wrist. By Spider-Man's smaller hand.
And that hand… did not tremble or show the slightest sign of effort.
Spider-Man held his attack the way one would hold the hand of a child trying to land a slap.
'T-this…' Kraven tried to force the movement. Nothing. The grip felt unbreakable.
"I'm sorry about this. But I'm going to use you to understand a few things."
Those were the last words Kraven heard before feeling Spider-Man's fist bury itself deep into his stomach.
***
Disclaimer: This story and its characters belong to Sony Pictures and Marvel Comics (Disney). This is merely a fanfiction written by a fan, with no intention of infringement.