Spider-Man. The House Of Venom

Huntress and Venom had continued their clean-up of Hell's Kitchen. The vanishing notes made them more cautious but the streets didn't get clean with caution.

As they moved through each block, they hit their rhythm. Neither would exit at the same time. They scouted each location. Multiple exit strategies were devised, and neither hunted alone.

As the number of brothels to visit dwindled. Felicia began to notice a pattern, made more apparent by the scenes outside the warehouse. Not everyone was happy. Not everyone was glad that the Huntress and Venom paid their workplace a visit.

From the increased number of streetwalkers, Felicia knew they had made things worse.

“Pete, look.''

As the pair sat on the edge of the warehouse roof he saw that multiple women would be huddled together. They glared and threatened any outsiders who came near their patch. Where there were a few before, there were now five or six.

Even he had to admit that it was getting worse. Making the morning coffee run now meant running a gauntlet of hookers or pimps. The police would arrive, break them up and less than half an hour later they would be back. If it was a residential area, more could be done.

He shrugged. “I really don't know what to do. Do we stop? Or let some operate? I mean, we have to do something.” 

It was an uphill battle. The more unsavoury places had been horror shows, and not everyone could walk away. The list of shelters and counsellors saw more call time than anything else. Some of the girls were so traumatised they would be lucky to ever work again.

“I’m going to do something but uh,” and as Felicia gave him a look he raised an eyebrow. “I'm going to take over, like I said, maybe a new set of rules, ones to stop the worst would be better.”

He nodded and half shrugged, “I won't stop you, but, if it's your thing, then I won't help either.”

She scowled, “You won't?”

He shook his head, “I’ll help but not help. Venom is a bad role model. You don't want half of these guys to take shots at me 'cause they think I'm going to kill them.”

Peter was reminded of the news. JJ's rhetoric was just as bad as it always was, but he had latched onto the incidents of the past year.

The attack on the brothels and the attack in the street by Poison all made the news. He was ramping up the Venom menace news machine. Especially after his cash cow of Black Cat mysteriously vanished.

All JJ had plastered over the Bugle website was a counter. ‘Days until Freedom’ it proclaimed. Citing that until Venom was caught and brought to justice, JJ wouldn't rest.

Each time they went out, it wasn't just the assholes they had to deal with. Now they had to make sure that nobody phoned either the Bugle or the police.

A new ETF, Enhanced Task Force had been set up. George Stacy proudly shaking the hand of Justin Hammer was all over the papers. Now they had better armour and better guns. Several units of officers, all with snub-nosed thick Hammertech rifles.

This demonstration went smoothly. No live fire accidents this time as the demonstration was live-streamed.

The officers took turns firing at paper targets. They had been hung in front of concrete cinderblocks reinforced with steel plates. The bullets cut through the barriers like it was paper in front of them.

There would be no second chance this time. A round like that would turn Venom and Huntress into corpses.

The demonstration pointed out that there would be no quarter given anymore. Powered individuals who broke the law would not be underestimated. To complement the ETF a new act was being written. One that would make the use of powers during a crime carried the same penalty as using a firearm.

Peter and the group watched the demonstration with apprehension.

"I get your bulletproof but no," Gwen stated. "Dad told me they won't be taking risks. Not after the bar."

Liv tapped a finger on her lips, "I think I'll start work on an armoured Venom suit for you. Something that can take that level of firepower."

Peter frowned, "That's possible?"

Liv laughed, "this is Justin Hammer. Those rounds were developed years ago. Armour piercing tip with a grooved body, they spin." but Peter interrupted her.

"Okay okay. we get it. big brain, so yeah. Use anything you want." He looked at Felicia, "and make two."

“Make mine black," Felicia added.

"Oh, oh. With little cat ears." Gwen added as well, with a small grin, "and give Pete that big white spider. Can't be Venom without it."

Felicia leaned over and kissed him giggling, “My big bad emo Pete.” and he nudged her with his shoulder.

"The colour isn't important. But." Liv paused, "if you can get the Goblin armour from Norman I should be able to recreate it. It might look a little." but Peter lifted her up and kissed her before spinning her around.

"That's great," he laughed, as she raised an eyebrow at him,

"I know, and it kills two birds with one stone. Please just make sure it hurts when you remove it."

Peter set her back down and kissed her once more. "I'll do my best."

Felicia laughed, "Calm down Pete. Save that for later, once we're actually celebrating." Felicia stood and stretched, “back to business though. Come here a moment.”

Standing Peter shrugged and she pulled him into her embrace and kissed him. “Motivation to get my business started."

⁂

After their break and chat, Felicia headed out, dressed casually. She wanted to find out if a new network would get any traction. She had made inquiries before. She got a place to print out a hundred cards, leaving one with some of the girls. This time was different. This was starting to take a stand and draw attention to herself.

The cards got straight to the point, with a burner phone number on them.

Black Cat,

For safety, for security, for anything,

xx-xxx-xxxx-xxxxx

A few groups simply glared as she approached and even as she handed over a card they shook their heads. No one threatened her though. She could be thankful she looked young enough that they weren’t intimidated.

It was her attempt to get a network started. Even if it was something stupid like buying a girl who needed a meal or a sandwich.

With the morning over and over a hundred cards given out, she jumped as the burner phone rang. She answered it, unsure of what the person would ask,

“Hello, Black Cat?” Whispered a scared voice. “Help, he won’t stop. Walker on 24th,” and the line went dead.

Felicia shouted into the warehouse, “Pete, I know you can't help but can you come as backup?” He nodded solemnly. 

As Huntress shimmered and vanished Peter made himself a long coat and grabbed a cap. He had on the undersuit he’d originally worn, and he could pull its hood over his head. He looked more like Spider-Man than Venom but he didn’t care. No one would call the cops on Spider-Man.

I really hope no one will call the cops on Spider-Man, he thought to himself as he ran out the door.

Huntress kept high as she approached the address she’d gotten, and as she rounded a rooftop corner she saw. A young woman was lying bleeding on the side of an alley doorway. Making sure there was no one else, she slipped over the edge and dropped down.

Clicking on her mic. “V, a girl, let me check it out, stay at the alley entrance,” and he clicked back an affirmative. Making sure she was still hidden, Huntress changed, making herself shiny and into her Black Cat persona.

As she approached the girl's wounds were apparent. Someone had taken great delight in breaking her nose, and her face was a mess of bruises. Cursing under her breath she crouched and moved towards the girl slowly, to make sure this wasn’t a trap.

“Hey,” she whispered and as she got no response she gently touched the girl. Her eyes fluttered open and as she coughed, a thin line of bloody spittle leaked from her lips.

“I got your message, who did this?” Black Cat asked, keeping her ears open for any hint of an ambush.

The girl’s eyes went wide and she shook her head. Her lips were swelling, and a small amount of blood trickled from her mouth as she tried her best to speak.

“Can’t. They heard me call and did this. Promised to hurt me again.” 

Black Cat lay a hand on her legs. “I can make sure they don't. I have a friend, can he make sure you're okay?”

The girl nodded and winced as she tried to stand but Huntress put a firm hand on her “Stay here,” and the girl nodded,

“Bakers Bar,” and her eyes flicked over to a green glass window on the other side of the street. Black Cat nodded and as Venom approached he took out a roll of bandages and some wipes.

“Clean her up, I won’t be long.” Black Cat shimmered once more.

He nodded, "Hey, I'm uh," shit, I hate you all. "Night Monkey and I help Cat." The girl still flinched as he leaned down and helped her clean herself.

⁂

As the door swung open the bar went silent. Black Cat strode in, and her hair swung as she walked. She ignored everyone until she got to the jukebox. Subtle was not today's word and she lifted it. She held it up with one hand before she slammed it into the ground. It almost exploded with force, and she made sure she drove her fist through its flimsy wooden shell.

“So, you guys know anything about the girl?”

In the dank stereotypical biker bar, the cut of the jukebox brought the attention of the bar patrons.

To Black Cat it was a Hollywood bar, rows of bottles lined the wall behind the bar. Where a denim-wearing tough guy, with grey hair tied up in a ponytail, served beer to similarly dressed men.

Sleeveless tops and gang tattoos seemed to be the trademark look here. Neo nazi assholes and whatever their name was, it was emblazoned across their backs. A flaming skull with a lit cigar.

“And so what if we do?” one of the toughs asked.

Black Cat moved. She grabbed his head and slammed it into the table before she lifted and threw him towards the back of the bar. He smashed into a mirror covered in drink logos. He didn't even twitch as he lay on the floor.

Nobody moved, nobody said a word and as she straighten up.

“There won’t be blood, there won't be cops, or warnings, there won't be a second chance. There will be pain and death. There will be a hunt and you will not see another day. You will stay quiet, you will behave and soon, very soon a new set of rules will come down to you. You will obey them, or what just happened here will be the best day of your lives.” She remembered something her father had given her, she flicked a pin on the bar.

“The Black Cats run the streets now. Behave or get the claws,” and to prove her point, she flexed her hand and five large razors slid from all of her fingers.

Drawing it along the bar, she felt slightly guilty about marring such a nice polished surface. The whole bar watched as she got her point across.

As she left the sliced deep into the wood she stalked to the door and was about to push it open when she heard the click.

“Fire and you die. No second chances.” As she stood waiting, she could hear the rapid breathing of the man holding the gun. His sweat filled the bar with a sour pungent smell. “We will not interfere as long as you play nice.”

With no reply, she pushed open the door and went out into the daylight.

She found Venom, closing his backpack. The girl had been patched up and was crying as she drank a bottle of water and ate a small sandwich.

“Taken care of. You their girl?” and she nodded, “drugs or whoring?” and she shook her head and then nodded.

“I warned them off. Call that number, once a day for a week, at noon. If I don't hear from you, they die. If you want out, give me some time and I’ll see what I can do.”

As Venom stood he handed the girl a twenty, and Black Cat leapt up and onto the roof, he nodded at the girl and followed.

As she stood on the rooftop, they kept an eye on the bar. There was no noise and no one followed them. Soon enough the girl walked back over. As she entered the bar there was no sign of a disturbance.

“Just leaving her?” Venom asked.

Black Cat turned and looked at him, “and do what? You gave her twenty, can’t always do that V. A sandwich and a bottle of water sure, but no money. We’re running a business now. I need a pin, something to make the girls and I know what it is. I’ll make sure shit like this never happens again. That scumbags like those guys never touch another girl again, but no more charity. We help, not coddle,” and as she turned to walk away he pulled her into a hug.

“Big softy,” he gently whispered. As she resisted the urge to knee him in the nuts for saying it, she still wrapped her arms around him.

The Black Cats would make things better, she would make things better.