Amira shot down the narrow alley, watching the skies. She could hear the propellers above her and che knew that if things kept up like this she wouldn't last long. She could feel her lungs aching with the effort of keeping her moving. Still that same voice was urging her on. "Keep moving. Don't stop. Run. Run!" She had no choice but to obey it. She knew of her own demons and she knew what they could do. She knew that they could force her to move, or worse, force her into the darkness of her own mind. She wanted to know what was happening to herself, and more importantly she wanted to know what she was doing to those around her.

The sound of a helicopters propeller above her brought her back to reality. She put her back against the wall and closed her eyes. She prayed that her hood hid her white hair from sight. Trembling, she edged along closest wall. They hadn't spotted her yet. They won't spot her. They won't spot her. She froze. She had come to a dead-end. She would have to wait until they passed by until she could get out of the alley and find a new hiding spot.

Subconsciously,her hand went to her throat, now oddly bare. For as long as she could remember, she had been forced to wear a collar around her neck. A collar that could track her, and inject her with a lethal dose of toxins if necessary. When she had escaped, she had thrown the collar as far away from herself as possible. It had held off Trask's men for a few hours, but they had discovered her trick soon enough. Now they were desperate to get her back, dead or alive.

She looked towards the mouth of the alley and gasped. There were two dark shapes there. Trask's men had found her and they were armed. "Relax," the voice ordered her. "You've done this before." Amira nodded to herself. She could do this. She swallowed shakily, trying to fight off the fits of coughs that threatened to rack her body. Taking a deep breath, she shot forward.

She heard the men curse in alarm as she dashed to their side. They obviously were horribly unprepared for a fight They raised their guns. Absently, Amira wondered if their guns were meant to kill her, or simply knock her out so they could bring her back to Trask. She wouldn't let either happen. She would bring them down.

She heard one of them take a shot at her. She dodged to the side, bringing her leg up to knock the weapon out of his hand. He was wearing full-body armor, so a strike to his ribs with her palm knocked him over, but she doubted it broke anything. Spinning around, she swept her leg, striking the back of the other mans knees. He fell to the ground, shouting for back-up. Grabbing up his gun, she smashed it into the back of both of the mens skulls. They remained still and quiet on the ground.

Panting, she leaned back on the nearest wall, coughing harshly. She covered her mouth, trying to keep the noise down. Someone could hear her, and she couldn't fight in this state. As the coughs subsided, she moved her hand away to see a rec stain across her palm.

"Oh no," she muttered. she couldn't feel this weak, not right now.

She sunk to the ground, clutching her knees close to her body. Feeling feverish, she closed her eyes. An image of her younger "brother" appeared in her mind. The young boy with shaggy black hair and dark circles under his eyes. Despite the fact that he had been ill, he had always looked full of life. So happy, so confident.

"There's a man somewhere in New York that they call Spider-Man," he had told her. "He's a hero. Someone who protects those who are too weak to fight for themselves."

She hadn't believed him. She had never been beyond the walls of the lab that she had grown up in. Then again, she might have been. She couldn't remember. She could remember very little about her childhood other than her "brother".

"If you're ever hurt or need help, just call out for him. He'll help you," he had told her.

She looked towards the sky. The helicopters had moved on. She was safe... for now. Struggling to her feet, she put a hand on the wall for support. With a jolt of alarm, she felt something touch her hand. It gripped her hand even as she tried to pull it away. A scream escaped her lips despite her better judgement. Jerking away from the wall she saw a white and red shape moving towards her.

"No!" she screamed. "No! NO!"

She tried to run, but she couldn't move. It was gripping her fiercely. She struck out at it, kicking and punching, but it didn't make a difference.

"Spider-Man!" she shrieked. "Sp..."

She was being consumed. With a final struggle, she collapsed, finally succumbing to the darkness that was clutching at her mind.

Thanks for reading! I love hearing your opinions! Thanks!
~FoxEmpress