The Spectacular Scorn

For as long as she could remember, Ramona Nieves had hated spiders. She hated their creepy, furry legs, their beady little eyes, and the unnatural, scurrying way they moved. In fact, she hated and feared them so much, that it provided the perfect means to keep her contained. She was suspended upside-down from the ceiling, encased in a cocoon made up of the most vile, red, gooey fibers she'd ever encountered. And sitting, biding, waiting for her to make a move were dozens of red, creepy little spider-like… things made of the same disgusting substance.

She'd already tried to break out, of course, but any attempts to move made the spider-sentries start crawling all over her. She'd lost count of the panic attacks she'd had as a result of that. And strung up in the windowless cell, she'd lost all sense of time. She knew what he was trying to do. Trying to drive her to her limits. Trying to push her over the edge. Trying to make her like them.

But it would all be in vain.

They may have their plans, but then again, she had her own. The tiny voice inside her head reached out to her. "Construction on escape plan A is ninety-eight percent complete." Its presence didn't worry her. It had been there since before they strung her up. If anything, it comforted her, to have something else to communicate with. Her gaze was fixed upward (or technically… downward?) at her first escape plan.

Slowly, carefully, so as not to send vibrations to the web nor alert whoever would be watching the surveillance cameras, she was building a tiny metal butterfly. Her hands were still bound in the cocoon. Fortunately, the voice's tendrils and her own red hair were almost perfectly matched in color, so they had been assembling it for her, going unnoticed.

"Construction on escape plan A is now one-hundred percent complete."

"Send it," she whispered. The small device- appearing to be barely more than a flash-drive with butterfly wings- dropped out of the fine tendrils, and flitted over to the heavy steel door. It crawled beneath the tiny gap at the bottom of the door's frame, and then it was gone from her sight. Now it was only a matter of time. He'd get the drive, and there would be no way for his curious mind to resist. She relaxed -slowly, so as to avoid upsetting the "guards"- and she could no longer prevent the sleep she had been staving off for what felt like days from washing over her.

… Several Years Ago…

"Alarm: security breach. Level alpha," a feminine, digital voice announced throughout the vat-and-tank-filled room.

"What are you kids waiting for, a personal invite?" the blonde man, Ian Harper, hollered from where he was investigating a control panel attached to a rather large tank. "There's got to be something in here we can use. There always is. I mean, those S.H.I.E.L.D. bastards are already outmatched, but it never hurts to make sure…"

Ramona approached a large tank filled with a red substance. She really, really hoped it wasn't blood. "That… that just looks wrong." A pair of large, white, eyelike globules appeared mere inches from her face. "Oh, Christ!" She shouted as the tank began to shudder. After a few powerful SLAMs the side of the tank gave way, covering Ramona in the red substance. And instead of sliding off, the entire mass clung to her, even climbing up where it had hit the floor.

"Accept the bond."

Ramona didn't know if the sensation of the slime or the sickly, wispy voice in her head was the worst part. "CURTIS! IAN!" She cried, trying to crawl out of the mess while holding a hand up.

"Oh, shit!" Curtis hollered, charging over to Ramona. A red tendril shot out from the goo and grabbed hold of the man's leg, flinging him sideways and straight through a pipe connected to a large vat. A gout of some sort of green vapor shot out of the tank, scalding a patch on Curtis' face and sending him to his knees, howling in pain.

Harper charged in as well, knife drawn, ready to start cutting the substance away if necessary. But as it turns out, at Harper's slightest touch the substance calmed, then released Ramona in order to envelop him. For a moment the mercenary struggled, attempting to tear the alien substance from his skin. But then he paused for a minute, almost as if listening to something. "Oh…oh." Harper stood up straight, the red mass still hanging from him. He chuckled. "Well, why didn't you just say so?" He threw his arms out, seemingly welcoming something. "Hit me!"

The red substance reacted fervently to his command, spreading and conforming to his body's shape until it resembled a red bodysuit decorated with sporadic tendril-like growths. The white globules from earlier reappeared on Harper's face, covering his eyes as the suit completely enveloped him. When it had completely covered him, Harper grinned with an unnaturally large, fanged maw seemingly made of the red suit's material. "I am… Carnage!" with this cry, he formed his hands into massive claws before laughing darkly. "Oh… this is gonna be fun…"

Ramona backed away, over towards where Curtis had fallen, terrified of whatever that thing could have done to the already unstable mercenary. She jumped a little bit when she heard a sudden bout of giggling spring up from the demoman's seemingly unconscious form. "Curtis!" She crouched down, and examined the gruesome burn on the side of his head. "Curtis, are you okay?"

"Heheheheheheee…" Curtis's eyes shot open, and he sat up. "Oh, absitively!" He stood up and unhooked a grenade from his belt. He chuckled inanely while spinning it on his finger by the ring a few times. "In fact, why, I don't think I've ever felt better!" he caught the bomb in the palm of his hand and grinned an uncomfortably large smile, a manic fire in his eyes. "Hey. Boss." He glanced over at Harper, unperturbed by his transformation. "Let's tear it up!"

"OOH! OOH! I like this one!" Curtis leaped up and down at the sight of a golden-colored, bat-shaped glider hanging up on the armory wall. "IwantitIwantitIwantit!"

"Hey, by all means, kiddo!" Harper hollered over his shoulder as he rummaged around a weapons locker that looked like something out of a sci-fi convention. "Think of it as a bonus for today's monstrous haul!"

"YAY!" The merc ripped the glider off the wall, shattering the clamps securing it with his new-found strength. "Whoo-hoo!" He held it aloft as if it were made of Styrofoam, pumping it up and down above his head like some sort of manic looter.

Ramona, meanwhile, had hung back. She was still leaning against the doorway into the armory, catching her breath from watching the two newly-empowered teammate tear through the enemy. Both figuratively… She glanced back at several pools of gore and bloody blast-marks that used to be the armory guards.

And literally.

She rubbed her robotic shoulder with her normal hand. The prosthetic had been locking up sporadically ever since… "Carnage's" new suit had attacked her. She grimaced, her mind in a whirlwind of turmoil surrounding this strange circumstance.

"Hello?"

Ramona froze, a chill running up her spine. It had sounded like a tiny voice had spoken in the back of her mind.

"Look, I don't care if it's with a shitty camera, I don't care if you have to use a motherfucking pen and paper! I want my pictures; it's what I'm paying you for!" The pudgy man with stubble hollered from behind his desk. Ramona just sighed inwardly. "Yes, Mister Sorola. I'm sorr-"

"Sorry? "Sorry!?" I don't wanna fucking HEAR "Sorry!"" the editor shouted. "You were there!"

Ramona sank into the chair a little deeper. Working at the Daily Bugle was a decent way to make ends meet, ever since she had left… But it got a bit hard to live with Mr. Sorola's eternal pessimism. Her eyes drifted past the raging editor, out past the window. And she froze.

Not. Fucking. Now.

Outside the window, standing on a bat-shaped glider, was a man in a green armored suit with a bright blue tunic and cap. He waved excitedly at Ramona, his goblin mask somehow moving to mimic the smile he was undoubtedly wearing. And editor Sorola just continued ranting, none the wiser.

The green suited maniac reached inside the large satchel he simply loved to carry these days, and grabbed a trio of his signature pumpkin-shaped grenades. He tossed one up, then began juggling all three of them.

Ramona remained wordless, but slowly shook her head, a violent fire in her eyes. At first, she'd been sad to leave him behind. If only she'd known how difficult it would be to get rid of him…

The Goblin nodded enthusiastically, the rate of his juggling picking up speed.

Ramona just glared and mouthed I will seriously fucking end you this time.

The juggler just shrugged before tossing a bomb up extra high, catching the other two, flinging them through the window, and kicking the last one after them when it fell back down. One of the little pumpkins hit Sorola in the back of the head, luckily knocking him out cold. Ramona donned her burnt-orange, symbiotic "suit" before any of the staff had a chance to investigate, and shot a trio of tendrils out to the bombs. She flung them back out the window mere moments before they exploded.

Leaping out through the now-shattered window, Scorn shot out one of the metallic-colored tendrils that were woven into the suit. It latched onto the bottom of the glider, and she gave it a swift pull, flinging her towards the Green Goblin and planting a foot in the side of his head. The bomber spun around on his glider a few times before finally righting himself. "Oh come on, sweetie, is that weally gonna be how you say hewo?" he whimpered, that manic grin still overriding his sickeningly sweet tone of voice. "It took so long to bust out this time, I had to shank this electrokinetic named Bubba. Or some shit like that. I dunno, inmates are soooo uncreative with the nicknames these days." He chuckled as he retrieved a couple more bombs from his bag.

Scorn didn't even acknowledge the greeting. "Crap on a cracker, I WAS AT MOTHERFUCKING WORK, CURTIS!" She bellowed before slinging a tendril to a building and put her downwards momentum into a swing, flinging herself back upwards to try and plant a fist right between that big, goofy-ass mask's ugly yellow eyes.

Curtis shot straight up in his bed, almost as if intentionally ripped from his dream. He rolled out of his bed and stood up, before lazily drifting over to the half-eaten box of cookies on his desk. And it had been such a good dream, too! Curtis moped, before glancing around his room. On one wall was a collage of newspaper clippings, detailing "highlights" of his favorite hobby. One of his favorites read "Moth-Man Saves Dozens in Goblin Incident!"

He chuckled. That had been one of his favorite successes. He'd set up this whole, elaborate battle, with a ticking time-bomb to defuse and everything, for the express purpose that he would lose, and dramatically glide off while screaming "CURSE YOU, MOTH-MAN!" She wore a large butterfly emblem on her chest, and the Goblin knew it, but there aren't many good words that alliterate with the word "butterfly." He'd nearly gone with "Power Papilion," but nobody knew what the fuck "papilion" even meant. They'd assume he made it up.

She hadn't made a name for herself, you see. So he made one for her. The press snapped it right up, they do love their alliteration so. "Blasting bouncing Betty's better beware," he giggled before drifting over to his suit, armored and built especially to help him pilot Tess. He smiled and reached for another handful of cookies. He'd head down to the kitchen, but he didn't want to risk running into Harper. No, the bacon could wait until the plan was over, and Harper went back to the main headquarters, out of state. Then he would let Ramona out of the box, and they could start the next round!

"Goblins gain grievances greatly, good games gone grandly grenade-goofy." It was anxiety-inducing, keeping her cooped up like that. Of course, it was always good to take a new angle on things. "Sure suspect she's sleeping soundly… soundly… uh…" he couldn't think of a decent S-word to get the point across. "…Shit."

He shrugged and decided to go back to the drawing board. Get a whole bunch of rules set up for the next game, oh and they would have SO much fun! "Alrighty then, what have we got, what have we got?" he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie.

To be perfectly honest, what he had was a large whiteboard with green marker all over it. The oldest scribblings were rather simple:

WAYS TO WIN RAMONA BACK:

1. Move to New York

2. Green Goblin

3. ?

4. PROFIT!

Steps one and two both had check-marks next to them. However, the ? had been crossed out, erased, and re-written many times, replaced by various other schemes, including "Bitches love money." "BEES!" "Tsundere troll antics." "Green Goblin Corps. Bitches love a man in uniform!" "Symbiote-ectomy." "Mindhacks?" "Wing it!" and even "Kill all the spiders! ALL of them!"

Each and every one of them had been crossed out, except for the most recent one. "IDK, Stockholm syndrome? Why not?" To be honest, that last one had been purely circumstantial. Carnage had needed Scorn locked up, to get her out of the way of… something. Curtis only went along with it because of the promised payday. He needed to pay for his explosives, too!

He bit into another cookie, only to find himself biting into a bit of metal! "Huh?" Curtis looked down, half-expecting to find another half-eaten fuse wire. But instead, there was a tiny metal device shaped like a butterfly.

He quickly clutched it to his chest, giggling. It had to be a sign! It HAD to be! His laughter grew as he noticed the USB port, and he dashed over to his computer, booting it up as soon as he could. There was a single file on the drive, a sound file. He opened it up and put on his headphones. Oh, he was just so excited!

He wasn't excited anymore. Curtis looked up at the tangled up mess that Ramona was strung up in. "Yeah, you know what? No." He was shocked and appalled that Harper could have done this to her! She'd always hated spiders! The Goblin had always made sure that Ramona could recover from his plots, but this? This could cause some permanent psychological trauma!

And not the fun kind, either!

He reached inside his satchel and pulled out a foot-tall, cartoon-style frog figurine, and hastily set is down in front of Ramona's (hopefully) sleeping form. Then he stole back to his room, careful to avoid Carnage's typical haunts. As soon as he had his door shut and locked, he bolted over to the whiteboard, scratched out "Stockholm Syndrome," and wrote down "KILLCARNAGEKILLCARNAGEKILLCARNAGE!"

Then he grabbed his suit.

She slowly pulled around the final turn. The large, black, armored truck had no lights on, and a specialized motor and muffler had been installed just for the occasion. Today would be a milestone in Serena Castle's self-made career. She'd become a bit of a legend among crime rings. The kind of legend you tell to keep the new blood in line, or remind a cocky gang leader that he's not the biggest fish in the pond. And in a business like this, reputation is everything. She didn't normally take hit offers. Then again, the people who usually tried were on her list anyways. And the targets had never been as… alluring as this one. Technically she wouldn't take the money. She'd just use the information he had provided so freely.

She lined up the target's truck with the main gates of the target's hideout: A large abandoned apartment building in one of the slum districts. Normally when she hit places like this, she wasn't as well armed. Normally when she hit places like this, they were full of nothing but addicts, dealers, and the occasional drug lab. But tonight was going to be different.

Tonight, the Punisher was going to kill Carnage.

The brown-haired woman put the pedal to the metal and the truck shot forward towards the gate with a deep roar. She pushed a pair of buttons on the dashboard, and two spouts of fire erupted from where headlights should have been, heralded by a loud BOOM! The two high-explosive rounds tore into the gate, leaving a large hole filled with rubble that was promptly smashed aside by the truck's heavy metal plow. The dust cleared as she drove through, and she made sure to hit a couple of the deranged criminals that super-villains tend to attract. Their screams were music to her ears.

All the rest of the henchmen knew was that a large, black truck with a skull painted on the side had just killed a couple of their allies. That was all they needed to know. "SHIT, man! She's here! DUST HER!" one of the gang-bangers shouted. But it was already too late. She flung her door open and rolled out of the truck, bringing an MP5 to bear. She aimed at the criminals, and let her training take over.

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!

The opening barrage forced the criminals behind cover, cowering like the rats they were. Serena wasted no time in bolting towards the nearest criminals hiding place, tossing the sub-machine-gun aside as soon as it ran out of ammo. A hostile sprang up from behind cover, aiming a MAC-10 at her, but it was too late. Punisher closed the remaining distance with a running leap, tackling the criminal to the ground, then wrenching the weapon from his hand, likely breaking his wrist in the process.

She unloaded a short burst into his chest with the MAC before she moved on, spraying down the next criminal and systematically moving on between the next few spots of cover. She'd been clearing out dens of criminal activity for what seemed to be nearly an eternity, and she'd learned what criminals were like. The typical ones dove for cover easily. The stupid or insane ones didn't use cover at all. They rarely aimed when they didn't think they'd need it, and they all thought that they could take the five-foot-two woman in a physical fight. In fact, one such mistake was being made just now. Punisher deflected the punch with her forearm, then wrapped her arm around his and grabbed the man by the shoulder. She applied some leverage and popped the man's arm out of its socket, causing him to cry out in pain.

Criminals were simple minded. They thought that they could take whatever they wanted. They thought that they were immune to the law, because they had managed to evade it, or come through the system and return unscathed. They felt that the lives they lived were satisfying enough to warrant the sentences they served. To justify the choices they made. To outweigh the people they hurt.

They were wrong.

Punisher tackled the last criminal standing, ripping him down to her level and slamming him against the ground by the throat, a bestial snarl on her face. The criminal's eyes glanced down at the coral skull set against the cobalt backdrop of the rest of her bodysuit, before glancing up at the wide barrel of the Desert Eagle that the vigilante now pressed against his forehead.

Criminals understood, you see. They understood the way the world worked. That laws were only good for keeping the good people in line. That as long as somebody cared so little, or had so little, or had so much that the law's penalty was immaterial, that it was useless. They laugh. They laugh at how the only thing that's supposed to contain them only cages their prey.

Serena saw to it that they didn't laugh about her.

"Carnage," she muttered, pressing the barrel harder against the man's head. "Where is he?"

The henchmen whimpered and shook as the fire in his assailant's eyes left little doubt as to her intentions. "P-p-please!" he blubbered, his eyes flickering between the corpses littering the yard behind her. "He'd kill me if I-"

Punisher cut him off. "Whatever."

BOOM!

Ramona's eyes flew open at the sound of gunfire. That… that wasn't supposed to be happening! She immediately noticed the small frog statue and blinked twice. Then she realized it was probably a sign that her plan had worked… maybe? It was so tough to predict how he'd react to things now. Well, whatever it was, her suit would know. Since it had incubated in her mechanical arm, it never learned to distinguish between organic life and machinery. This meant it had a knack for identifying what machines were supposed to do, and had no qualms about incorporating metal and plastic into its own biomass. She extended a cautious tendril, hesitantly examining the figurine and eventually opening a panel on the back. There's no way he could have put it here for no reason.

Possibility of viable escape scenario using subject components: 85%

Ramona nodded. Not perfect, but it'd do for now. "Hit it."

At her command, the partially disassembled figurine clattered to the floor as the tendrils retreated violently back into her arm. The spider-sentries began squealing in pain as well, scurrying up to the top of the cocoon as the figurine let out a high-pitched, violent wailing sound.

Get us out! PLEASE get us out! The symbiote screamed inside her head. Its terror gave her a profound headache, but as long as it was in her arm it would be relatively safe. Without the spider-sentries tending to it, the "web" began to weaken, and Ramona was able to break free.

She barely caught herself from hitting her head as she fell to the floor, and she quickly scurried over to the door, holding her robotic arm out to the bottom of the doorway. "Go, go!" she ordered. The burnt-orange symbiote left her arm, managing to flatten itself and slide under the doorway. A few moments later the steel door slid open, and Ramona dashed out into the hallway. The symbiote sprang from where it had adhered to the wall and merged with her, taking the combination keypad it had been hacking with it. Scorn shrugged as the keypad's material was absorbed and woven into her suit as more mercurial strands.

They'd likely need every bit they could get.

Unthinkable, absolutely unacceptable! Carnage just thought he could simply walk in there, to his independently operated branch, order his minions around, freeze his masterful plans, lock up his favorite person in the whole wide world, and not even have the motherfucking courtesy to respect his wishes about her temporary living arrangements?

It was inconceivable, inconsiderate, impossibly presumptuous, and just plain rude! Curtis donned his mask as he stomped through the hallway to the "war-room" Harper had set up elsewhere in the old, dilapidated building. Curtis may have renovated one or two spots, sure, but on the whole his New York "branch" was a true fixer upper.

He'd dealt with Carnage's bullshit because to be honest, he was kinda terrified of the being that had slaughtered Miss Marvel in such spectacular style. And that was before Harper took the wheel! But you know what? Fuck it. He was the goddamned Green Goblin, he'd been fighting a robo-symbiote for the past year and a half, he could take this motherfucker!

He walked past a woman packing more heat than Miami, dressed in a cobalt bodysuit with a coral skull on it. He rolled his eyes and turned around, walking backwards to speak to her. "Look, new recruits go to Human resources, three doors down that-a-way." He pointed down the hall. "Can't miss it. It's the room with the cockroaches in it. Big ones."

He turned around and was about to carry on his merry way when he suddenly heard a hammer get pulled back. He snarled and juked to the side, narrowly avoiding the bullet. "Bitch, I ain't got time for this!" He dug into his bag and threw out a pumpkin bomb.

Punisher simply dodged the bomb, which detonated on impact with the wall behind her. She drew her second pistol and opened fire on the Goblin, who ducked into a door in the hall. She quickly gave chase, but before she reached the doorway the green criminal burst through the wall next to her, taking her to the ground. Bastard must have been stronger than he looked!

She was able to get some leverage and rolled him off of her before drawing a combat knife. Goblin replied by springing up onto his feet and drawing a balisong with a butterfly motif on the handle. "You wanna dance, lady?" He asked, waving the blade. "Alrighty then, let's DANCE!"

The two rushed each other, blades at the ready… only to have both of them be encased in a burnt-orange substance simultaneously. Their cocoon-like bindings traced all the way back to Scorn, who was standing at the far end of the hallway. She approached the two and snapped "Didn't your parents ever tell you two not to play with…" Her vision glanced down to the balisong now lying on the floor. "Curt…" He lifted the weapon with a tendril and deposited it in her hand. "Where did you get this?"

The goblin grinned sheepishly. "I found it."

Scorn moved the Green man's tendril to put his face right in front of hers.

"I found it, and don't look at it too closely." He insisted.

The orange-hero sighed and held both of her captives up in front of her. "What exactly were you two doing?"

"On my way to kill Carnage, Puddin'!" The goblin chuckled. "Nobody strings my gir-"

"Shut up." Scorn glanced back at the Punisher. "And you?"

"On… my way to kill Carnage. Go figure." The cobalt vigilante tried to shrug.

"OOH! OOH! We can make a team sport out of it!" The Goblin quipped, wiggling excitedly. "I call dibs on his spleen, it has the best name among internal organs!"

Punisher looked over at him and gritted her teeth. "You are responsible for millions in property damage and hundreds of critical injuries on innocent people. I will use your hat as an ammo bag one day."

"Again, shut up," Scorn spat. "In this one particular instance… we all want the same thing." She lowered the two captives to the ground. "Can I trust you to not kill each-other until after Harper is in the ground?"

After a few moments of silence, Punisher and Goblin both nodded. Ramona lowered them to the ground and reabsorbed their bindings, before flipping the balisong around a few times. For old time's sake. Then she encased it on her hip for safekeeping.

"Alright, so we're going this way then!" Green Goblin pointed over down the hallway, and the very reluctant trio made swift progress to the war-room. They made quick work of the door, what with its flimsy frame, but inside the room there was…

No-one to be found.

Ramona growled and walked into the room, looking for any clues as to his whereabouts. Serena, meanwhile, had drawn her knife and tried to stab Curtis in the back. Fortunately, the chain-mail comprising his blue tunic stopped the blade. "Hey, I seriously thought he'd be here.," he said defensively.

"Curtis. What the hell is this supposed to mean?" she held up a note that messily read Curtis- Finally found that thing I was looking for. I'm going to need more guys. Left to pick up some new recruits.

The Goblin just shook his head. "Hell if I know!"

Just then a sound of sirens wailing blared in from the windows. As in, way more than usual. Screams and yelling could also be heard, again, much more than was typical.

Punisher turned and left the room, intent on hunting the source of the disturbance. Goblin and Scorn weren't too far behind, but before they left the room, Ramona stopped them both. "You… You kept my knife?"

"Well, uh, yeah," Curtis shrugged. "I mean, you forgot it. Thought I could at least keep it safe, till you came back." Then he dashed out the door. "You go on ahead, I gotta go fetch Tess!"

Ramona stood still for a moment, surprised at his response. Until I came back…? After a moment she shook herself out of it and walked over to the nearest window, leaping out and swinging in the direction of the uproar. As she drew closer to the source, she could see a police barricade completely failing to contain a mob of-

Oh my god.

She swung up and landed on the edge of a building, surveying the scene below. It… it was much worse than she could have imagined. Down on the streets below, it was utter chaos. People were screaming and running for their lives, all fleeing terrified from a mob of figures all clad in red. They were attacking other people, occasionally splitting off reddish blobs of the material they wore, which would then seek out new hosts. And there, in the midst of it all, was Carnage. While the entire mob looked like him, he was unmistakable. The only one standing up straight, the only one using his symbiote with tell-tale signs of experience…

The only one laughing.

Scorn was ripped out of her reverie by the sound of crunching metal and a roaring engine: The Punisher's truck had just smashed through the barricade. It tore a path through the symbiotes, charging straight for their "leader," but it was gradually slowed by the various members of the mob latching onto it. They began ripping the van apart, only for Punisher to burst out of the back of the truck and start laying into the mob with a flamethrower. That was good, they were weaker to extreme heat and intense sounds…

"Where does she find all those wonderful toys?" Ramona jumped a little to notice Curtis hovering beside her on that golden glider of his. "And here I was, thinking there wasn't gonna be enough Carnage to go around!" He shot her a wink before diving down towards street-level, while hollering "CATHARSIIIIS!" at the top of his lungs. The glider emitted a high-pitched scream at his command, causing the symbiotes he flew over to writhe in pain as he passed.

Ramona also launched herself down into the streets, her arm configuring into some kind of chrome weapon that she imagined her symbiote knew would hurt. Badly. She swung over the fray, firing an orange-colored beam at the symbiotes, and taking a number of shots at Carnage in particular.

The red-clad rioter dodged the beam, whistling in appreciation at the scorchmarks it left on the ground. He glanced back up at the Goblin and Scorn as they came around for another pass, and then glanced at the Punisher before shouting. "Well, would you just look that the unadulterated mess this had turned into, huh?" He leaped down from the SWAT van he'd been standing on, and approached the cobalt vigilante. "Hello, there. What's your name, girly?" he chuckled as she reached out with his claws.

But before he made contact, Serena spun around and hosed him down with a stream of liquid fire. Carnage let out a screaming roar, parts of his suit burning away, before the suits of several other rioters abandoned their hosts to reconstitute Harper's damaged symbiote. He raised up his hands, which reconfigured into massive scythe blades, and brought them back down with murderous intent. Punisher barely managed to dodge the strikes. "Name's Castle. Sound familiar?" she snarled

"Castle, Castle, that actually does sound familiar, hehehe…" Harper reformed his arms into large axe-blades before moving in for a few more strikes. "Think I killed a guy by that name, once! Easy job, guy could've been a boy scout for how well he fought. Name of Andrew? A-rod? Alex?" He swung again, only to hit a whole lot of air.

"AARON!" Punisher let out another spray of fire, Carnage barely managing to doge. "His name was Aaron, you twisted son of a bitch!"

"Oh, seriously?" Carnage lunged forward, slicing through the flamethrower's fuel-hose with a claw. "Revenge? That's your motivation?" He shot out several tendrils, immobilizing the vigilante and disarming her. "I'd hoped that someone so talented would at least have a bit more taste as far as inspiration." He held Serena up as if she were a piece of meat that a butcher might inspect. "Vengeance is so terribly, woefully overdone that it just sort of loses meaning after a while, you know?" he hissed, a stench of rancid meat on his breath.

Meanwhile, Scorn and the Goblin were trying to keep the rest of the rioters under control, wearing away at the symbiote's mass while trying to keep the victims unharmed. "Dooba-doobie-dobbah-doop!" The Goblin couldn't help but smile as he herded the rioters to a certain section of the street, dodging the tendrils that reached out towards him with erratic, gut-churning maneuvers.

When Curtis had corralled all of the lesser symbiotes into a herd, Scorn leaped into action. She landed on top of an SUV, and her symbiote bonded to it through her feet. She projected a huge tangle of metallic tendrils, draining the metal from the car through her legs and into the threads, and strung it between several lamp-posts, creating a cage around the herd of symbiotes. "Alright, flush them out!" She shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Yaaaaaay!" Curtis hovered over the cage, and dumped a few more of the frog-statuettes into it out of his bag. "Strangest weather we've been having!" He glided off, and the frogs let out their terrible wailing. At first the symbiotes inside went wild, pressing and snarling against the edges of their cage to try and smash their way out. When that didn't work, they abandoned their hosts, fleeing as a red, amorphous mass through the strands of the cage. The plan worked perfectly.

The Goblin and Scorn both gave chase, the latter using a heat-ray and the former unleashing a rainfall of incendiary pumpkin bombs. The excess symbiote burned away, writhing in pain as it was reduced to nothing but scorch-marks on the pavement.

Carnage's suit writhed in empathic pain, and he was tempted to devour his catch immediately. But no. The excess was replaceable. Such an entertaining opportunity was unprecedented! Harper knew he'd be a complete fool to let a chance like this slip him by. He chuckled darkly before bolting to the nearest building, Punisher in tow, and quickly scaling it. "Hope you don't mind if I take this somewhere a little more dramatic?" He bellowed back at his other two foes.

Scorn looked up and saw Carnage making a break for it. "Oh, no you frigging don't!" She growled before leaping onto the side of the building in pursuit. Curtis was quick to follow, flying up at the steepest angle Tess could handle. When they had finally reached the top of the building, they found Carnage dangling Serena upside-down, wrapped in a scarlet cocoon.

"Oh, if only I had a camera!" Carnage mused as he turned to face his pursuant. "I could get me killing all three of you on tape. Oh, this is gonna hold a special place in my heart, right next to that one time with Deadpool." He glanced over at Scorn. "You remember that time, right? It was just before you left, after all." He tilted his head slightly. "Say, how did you get out of that cozy little sleeping bag anyways?"

The Green Goblin shot up from the edge of the building, a set of razor-sharp blades extending from underneath his glider. "Heyo!" He shot towards the Symbiote full-bore, only to be deflected by a shield Carnage formed from his free hand.

Carnage shook with laughter. "Heheheh… Nice try, Curtis. And excellent timing on the betrayal, might I add, I've had just about enough of you and your stupid fixation."

"Are you fucking serious!? I have been an excellent host!" Goblin sputtered.

"No, you're fucking disgusting!" the red symbiote spat. "It's called an exterminator! HIRE ONE!"

Scorn, meanwhile, seemed to be the only one aware of their current situation. "Listen up, Harper," she said in her best attempt at a confident voice. "It's over. You're outmatched and outgunned. Submit now, or we won't hesitate to gank you where you stand."

Carnage slowly turned to face the other symbiote, a wicked, ecstatic grin on his face. "Oh, that's cute Ramona. Real cute. Give it a shot." The red-suited criminal laughed, waving the Punisher around, before stringing her up on the radio antenna at the center of the tower. He turned to face the opposition. "I think it's time I squashed some youthful rebellion." He formed several tentacles from his suit, each ending in some variety of edged weapon. "When I'm done, there won't be enough left of the Green Goblin or the great "Moth-man" to fit in a matchbox!"

"THAT'S NOT OUR MOTHERFUCKING NAME!" Scorn shouted before leaping into the air and launching a tendril into the ground beside Carnage. She gave a swift pull on the line and shot forward, forming her robotic arm into a resonant blade. Carnage countered with a few of the bladed tentacles, slashing and stabbing at the orange-clad "hero," but she was barely able to dodge out of the way. She even managed to lop the blade off of one of the offending appendages. "WE ARE SCORN!"she swung past him and lopped off another few tentacles.

Carnage let out a roar and took to the air after her, the two swinging over and around the top of the building with the Goblin gliding not far behind. The green man tossed out a pumpkin-bomb that flew apart into several razor-sharp bat-shaped devices that whirred through the air after Carnage, but the symbiote cast a tendril to the antenna and swung around to place the Punisher between himself and the blades.

The cobalt vigilante wriggled in her bindings, and managed to build up enough momentum that the blades sliced into the webbing keeping her in place, rather than slicing her to ribbons. She hit the ground with a solid thud, and quickly tore the remnants of the material from her suit. With an irritated snarl, she reached over her shoulder and drew the short-barreled shotgun she had strapped there, the one loaded with incendiary rounds. Taking aim with practiced precision, she unloaded several fiery slugs at Harper.

The red-suited symbiote cast out more tendrils, altering his momentum to evade the shots. "You're going to have to try harder than that!" he hollered, before dodging a heat-ray Scorn fired at her pursuant. Then, in a completely unexpected move, he stuck a tendril on the building and swung in a complete vertical U-turn, flinging himself towards the Green Goblin and catching him by the throat with his fist. The green man was ripped clean off of his glider, which came crashing down into the rooftop.

Carnage soon followed suit, tearing a gash out of the cement with both his own feet and the Goblin's face. That gash led straight to Punisher, who shot Harper several times. "That's cute kid," the symbiote snarled before lifting the vigilante by the throat. "You know, I'm really starting to think you actually believed that you could kill me."

"I… don't… think it," Serena choked "I know it. I'm going to kill you if it's the last thing I do on God's green earth!" Despite her predicament, the look on her face spoke only of earnest belief and smoldering resentment.

Carnage laughed darkly. "Funny you should mention that…" He began to walk towards the edge of the building, holding both the struggling Punisher and the unconscious Goblin at arm's length. "Because I always pictured you final moments as folding some poor car's hood inwards."

"No!" Scorn shouted, landing in the rooftop behind Harper. "Let them go, now!"

The red-suited man glanced back over her shoulder and shrugged. "Well, if you say so!" Without a moment's more thought, he flung both of his captives over the side of the building.

"Oh, FUCK you!" Ramona growled, grabbing Curtis's glider with a tendril and leaping over the side of the skyscraper. She dove downwards, her symbiote rapidly pulling the glider apart and molding it into a more useful form. Golden metallic tendrils extended from her back, forming a latticework in the shape of two large butterfly wings. She cast out two orange tendrils out to the falling figures, pulling them close and tucking one under each arm by their waists. An orange membrane spanned the gaps in the golden latticework, and the glider's engine reappeared in a sleeker design sitting on Scorn's back between the two "wings."

They were approaching the ground rapidly, and Ramona fired off the engine, tilting her wings to pull up out of their fall. She horsed the rig back as much as she could, straining to keep her focus through the screaming of her over-taxed symbiote. But still the ground came ever-closer.

"We won't make it!" Punisher shouted, sounding almost accusative in her tone.

In a last moment decision, Ramona cut the engine and enveloped her wings around the three of them, re-forming them into a protective cocoon with a chrome-and-gold plated shell. The pod crashed into the asphalt, tearing a trail of rubble and sparks to where it finally stopped after crashing into one of the police roadblocks.

The outside of the metal shape was scratched and dented, and a few of the nearby police approached it, cautiously. After a few anxious moments, the metal receded, revealing a blob of burnt-orange material. The blob receded back to envelop only Scorn, revealing Green Goblin and Punisher. The three of them were heavily bruised, but otherwise seemed alright.

"That… was… disgusting," Serena groaned. She snorted a few times. "I think some of it went up my nose." She rose shakily to her feet, and the police recoiled at the sight of the skull on her chest. It would seem as though her reputation wasn't limited to strictly street thugs or gang-members.

"You know, I thought she'd be taller," One of the officers mumbled.

Scorn managed to get on her feet, and held up a hand as another policeman attempted to cuff the Goblin. "You know that won't work." She shot a quick binding around his hands. "We'll get him to the station. You guys get to helping the civilians."

One of the officer's nodded quickly. "Got it, Moth-man."

"THAT'S NOT OUR NAME!" Ramona shouted, the officers recoiling at her reaction. "That's… It's Scorn, alright?"she apologetically added.

"Got it." The senior officer there turned to face the others. "Well? You heard the lady. Get on it."

"What about Carnage?" one of the men asked.

"He's not down here trying to kill us right now. That means it was a diversion." Serana surmised before trudging back to her truck. "He'll be long gone by now."

"And what about her?" an officer asked, nodding towards the Punisher.

"Hey, you think we should arrest her? Good luck." One of the senior officers replied. Serana climbed in her truck, and pulled out of the scene unhindered.

Scorn soon left the scene of the disturbance with the Goblin under an arm, swinging up to the roof of a building and pausing to think. She glanced towards the route to the police station. Curtis would be found guilty, of course, and he'd be out of her hair. For a week or two, at least. Then he reached down to her hip and retrieved the balisong stored there. She flipped the butterfly knife around a few times…

Then she leaped from the building and swung down the street, heading towards her apartment.