Chapter 2

"It is the eyes, Love. And the roar." Calypso smiled as she shed her pale leather vest onto the suite floor. Kraven lay at the head of the bed. His altered body bare above the waist. "The shivers you send down my spine..."

Calypso peeled off a loose silk blouse. Her bare breasts tipped in excited black nipples. Her skirt slithered down her legs like a python. Nothing beneath. Calypso was wild, a thing of beauty. Rubies, like drops of blood, dangled from her ears. Teeth, fangs, danced around her neck on a chain of gold. Gifts and trophies from her love. Candles, black candles with dirty red flames, cast haunting lights around the suite. The lion was stalked. The hunter was prey.

Gulyadkin's roar thundered from behind Calypso. The big cat paced as it smelled the arousal in the air. He clawed the carpet until he fell down in a slump. The smell always meant shut up.

"I do not deserve this, my love," Kraven scowled. The unleashed beauty before him was climbing over his body. There was a darkness in her eyes and a warmth. Neither power competed, both implacable, both undeniable. "I am still a failure."

"The prey is still waiting for you, Love." Calypso's hands slid over Kraven's chest. Her fingers traced muscles, her palms adored his coarse fur. "But I will not be made to wait."

"No," Kraven's leonine smile was hungry, "You will be made to scream."

One of Kraven's clawed hands was large enough to encircle most of Calypso's waist. The dark lover didn't whimper or scream as her Love picked her off of himself and thrust her into the mattress. Her eyes beckoned and her smile taunted. Kraven's kiss came down as a bite on her throat. Calypso's hands slipped over Kraven's flexed back. So much muscle, so much power. She bit him back, only she drew blood.

"Love," Calypso's lips dripped scarlet onto her chin. Kraven released his mouth from her shoulder and rose up over her. A great clawed hand held her into the bed, a great thumb curled around her large breast. Another hand, gentle, loving, raked down her long black hair. "Your tongue."

Kraven obeyed. The will of Calypso was not to be denied and Kraven had no interest in denial. She opened, her right leg caught in his left hand, her left legging kicking out past Kraven's right knee. Kraven was teeth and torment. He descended her flesh with no haste. The soft skin on her collarbone rose in gooseflesh as his rough tongue slithered towards her breasts. She licked the blood from her lips and caressed the sides of his face as Kraven claimed her breast. The beast, the predator inside Kraven was compelled by the prominent drumbeat beneath her ribs. She always called for the dangerous. She always toyed with him, coiling him like a serpent, daring him to strike. She always screamed at the snap. Kraven held back. He was the hunter. A master of patience, control, he would never strike too soon.

"You taunt me, Love," Calypso murmured as fangs and lips wandered over her belly. The hand on her right leg climbed down her thigh, holding her open as it took the flesh of her ass in hand. Her hips rocked. Her hips squeezed shut. Her hands tugged at her own hair. "I need you, Love."

"And I am always here when you call," Kraven whispered. A heartbeat before anticipation became frustration, Kraven buried his face in the soaken wet sex of his Love. Snarling, burning with white hot fire, he gave her pleasure.

Calypso was not ready for his feverish love. She bucked and snap with immediate pleasure. Muscles snapped and her whole world convulsed. She kicked feebly. One leg was held far from her Love; the other was caught tight under his arm. He still held her immobile. On hand clasped around her waist, she could not escape. He had her trapped. She tugged at his hair, unable, unwilling to stop in her first climax. His tongue, rough and agile, circled her asshole and slid across her wet lips. The bud of her clitoris drew him and made her scream.

The scent of blood and sweat and sex sent Gulyadkin into a whimpering pace once again. The strength of her voice left the lion with a disquiet and fear often unknown to the predator. Retreating he found the door. He whimpered and collapsed, a mirror to the end of Calypso's pleasure.

"Ah ... Mon amour. Je m'étends vaincu. Ma petite mort n'est que le début."[1] Calypso, in times of passion often reverted to the tongue of her native Haiti. French was not one of Sergei's better languages but the lilt and passion were catalysts to his own desire. By her ass he lifted Calypso's sex from the bed and continued his given assault.

Calypso wailed once again. Nothing seemed to work properly. Lightning ran under her skin. She felt explosive, hot. The sweat shining on her skin rose into steam. Her legs responded poorly at best. Muscles tight and aching as his tongue mapped her pleasure. He knew every millimeter. He gave of himself and of his love and she could not contain it inside her.

Her voice was raspy. Her throat was dry. Her eyes flicked back under her eyelids. He would not let her arch from the bed. She rolled from shoulder to shoulder. Her nails raked through his slick hair. Blood flecked behind after particularly violent tremors. She was close once again. He would not relent. Heat like hellfire boiled inside her. She pulled her hands back. She grabbed her own breasts. Trails of blood slunk after her fingernails. She brought her left hand to her lips. The taste of her love was the last catalyst. Her throat opened in a wordless cry. Her eyes saw only darkness as they rolled up. Her body shook. Still he controlled her. His strength indisputable.

Gulyadkin trembled by the door of the suite. There was power in the voice and echoes of Calypso and the lion feared it. Kraven continued through her pleasure once again. Ragged breaths and sputtering sighs overcame the lapping against her sex. Kick, fight, scream. Her pleasure was the fight of nature herself. Calypso begged and pleaded. Kraven answered with more ferocity, more exact strikes. Perfect control and she was wracked a third time. Quicker, not as fierce, but the pleasure strangled. Calypso panted as she rescinded. A pain of constant pleasure left her so tender that she had to force her chest to calm so she could find enough air for her voice.

"Sergei, j'ai besoin de toi, mon amour. Arrêtez vous. Donnez-moi votre tout." Kraven recognized the command to stop and he retreated. His power still held her to the bed. She looked up with bloodshot grey eyes. She whispered his name. So quiet only he could have heard it.

"My love? What will you have of me?" Kraven asked, ascending her body, allowing her to stretch out as he kissed her breast and shoulder. She cradled his face and kissed him strongly. Her answer was without words. A slender hand reached into Kraven's pants. The hunter's erection glided into her palm as she wove her fingers around the shaft.

Calypso rolled onto her knees and presented herself into the air. She cooed as Kraven's hand found her shoulder blade and whimpered as he roughly opened her further. She leaned on her shoulder reaching under herself and between her thighs. She urged her Love towards her. There was pain. But pain was just the sister of pleasure and Calypso begged for both. She was impaled and she rose from the bed onto all fours. Her throat was arched open in a beckoning call. Her heart unmistakably setting the rhythm. Harder, faster it beat in her chest. The thick power of her Love drove in deep and retreated almost wholly. Her fists curled up the bedspread. He rose higher, his great form pulling her up onto her toes. Each downward thrust nearly collapsing her slick form onto the bed. Eyes white she look to the sky and prayed.

"Mes déesses. La nuit, l'amour et la douleuse. Donner votre navire indigne tel plaisir et elle vous donnera la chasseur." She promised as she was filled. The pain on a background to the spikes of pleasure she shared with her Love. The hot breath on the back of her neck. The tight grip on her thigh and in her hair. She called out. He answered.

"With me, my love," He demanded and begged all at once.

"Toujours," She promised. She closed her eyes. Her tongue lagged before her jaw shut tight. Every muscle pulled like a harpstring. Her throat bulged as she tensed. She knew, she had always known. He was near and she feared the strength of the lion near as much as she loved it. Her black skin was turning a dull red from heat and the slapping against her. Kraven slammed into her, folded tightly along the arch of her back. She let go. Down on her forearms and her thighs wavering as she kept the pair of them high during their climaxes. She whimpered, battered and bruising from the ferocity of her hunter. She felt the seed splashing inside her, unworried, knowing that if his hunter sought her fertility she would be unable to stop him. She was loved. He was loved. She felt his great arms pull her into his chest.

"Thank you, love."

"Always," The hunter promised.

The sound of the lovemaking stopped and Adrian Toomes returned to the blueprints Mason had drawn up. Beck rearranged himself on a nearby couch, clearly off step from the shrieks and chaos that had erupted from the suite. Toomes looked on Quentin with pity. The Vulture had had his share of wild trysts back before he had been kicked out of grad school. He had a particular favor of wild black women and found himself feeling more nostalgic than off kilter or envious. It gave him a momentary good feeling before he fell back into his darkness.

Adrian Toomes had fought and worked for years with a string of failures. His juvenile mistakes had robbed him of the credentials to excel in his chosen field. Finally, dedication and hard work and ingenuity had finally given him the greatness he had dreamed of. And that hack, that half-cocked arrogant mistake of a scientist, Norman Osborn had taken his work and pissed on his name. Adrian Toomes had wanted recognition. Adrian Toomes had demanded an apology. Adrian Toomes had nothing. Tekflight still belonged to Oscorp. Worse, Osborn was dead. Toomes had dreamed about dropping the man like a stone onto the pavement but a dead Osborn was a useless one.

It was the Goddamned arachnid. Toomes curled his lips into a half snarling smile. Arachnid was Octopus's slur. He had respect for Octavius, especially since the little man had shaken off the oppression of Oscorp and become Doctor Octopus. Otto was convalescing in Ravencroft once more. How he had convinced a second jury he needed treatment and not incarceration was a sure sign of his genius. Toomes looked forward to reuniting with his partner in crime once again.

The blueprints were impressive. Phineas Mason, The Tinkerer, excelled in robotics beyond anything Toomes had imagined. The Tinkerer had reinforced Vulture's wings, providing sharper control and a better harness to help the old man withstand the acceleration he subjected himself to. The Tinkerer was the mind behind Mysterio's machinery. He had upgraded The Shocker. He had expanded The Shocker's tech into producing Ricochet and Ox's improved body armor.

"This is incredible." Adrian Toomes put down the last blueprint.

"Mason says he needs capital." Beck sat down next to Toomes, looking over his shoulder at the closed door between they and Kraven.

"We can acquire anything we need." The Vulture assured Mysterio.

"Of course," Mysterio nodded, "But Spider man--"

"Spider-man will be my responsibility." Kraven opened the doors as he announced his presence. Toomes caught a glimpse of Calypso, in little more than an improperly tied robe, behind the leonine hunter. Beck turned away with a sophomoric blush on his cheeks.

"You'll need assistance?" The Vulture knew Kraven had failed even with the help of five other supervillains.

"He shall have it." Calypso announced. Her body flowing with power as she crossed the main room towards a divan. She began brushing her hair, oblivious to the stares of the men in the room. The Vulture followed her movement with an appreciative grin.

"You're a lucky man," Adrian commented.

"Indeed," Kraven showed no jealousy towards Vulture's appreciation, but contempt for Mysterio's embarrassment. "The lion hunts with his queen."

"And how do you plan to finally do in your prey?" "Vulture asked.

"With the right bait." Assured Kraven.

"Flavored with the right poison." Grinned Calypso.

It was Sunday afternoon. Two days after Spider-man had defeated the Prowler. Peter and MJ walked in silence through the antiseptic smell of the hospital. They were visiting a friend the papers had reported as one of the victims of The Prowler. They found Ned Lee being turned away by a furious black woman.

"Peter!" The reporter turned away, finally giving up talking to the victim. "Long time my good man. The paper just isn't the same without you. And, it's Mary right?"

"Yes it is," The redhead smiled.

"Seriously, no one at work believes your dating the girl on the billboards." Ned clasped Peter's shoulder. "Betty's sticking up for you but..."

"Yeah, I get it." Peter grinned. Ned was enthusiastic but a good reporter. With the exception of Jameson, Peter had liked the whole staff at the Bugle.

"Good man," Ned smirked. Mary Jane shared his teasing mirth. "Anyway, do you know Mr Brown? His mother won't let met in and--"

"I do. But, I'm not standing up against his mom." "Peter replied.

"Smart move," Ned agreed, looking over his shoulder to make certain Mrs. Brown had returned to her son's ward. "Could've really used your pictures on this case. The police sketches of the Prowler's mask aren't much to go on."

"Well, when your boss hires supervillains to stalk you and your friends..."

"Say no more Peter." Ned clasped his shoulder, "But Robbie'll hire you back in a heartbeat if you ever want to get into again. And you probably could get a raise if you play your cards right."

"I'm actually kind of glad Peter isn't chasing after Spider-man anymore," Mary Jane interjected. "It's hell on all the people who worry for him."

"Yeah," Ned agreed without much sympathy. There was something in his eyes, "But it's hard to give up the chase, isn't it?"

"You have no idea," Peter agreed. "Say hi to Betty for me."

"Yeah, you pass on my regards to Spidey," Ned laughed, "Nice to see you again Mary."

"You too, Mr Lee."

"Ned," Ned corrected and then went off down the hallway speaking some hurried thought into a small recorder. MJ gave Peter a look he assumed meant "Don't you dare go back to the Bugle." The two teenagers moved ahead to meet Mrs Brown at Hobie's room.

Hobie didn't look good. His face was bruised and purple. Peter knew the injury arose from the right cross he had swung across Hobie's face. MJ believed what the Bugle had written. Hobie was just a mistaken victim of the Prowler's hunt for gangbangers and street scum.

"Hello kids," Mrs Brown issued in Peter and Mary Jane. She gave the redhead a little push putting her just a bit closer to Hobie's bedside.

"How're you feeling?" Peter asked. A guilty knot was forming in his stomach.

"Been better." Hobie said with uncharacteristic brevity.

"You look terrible," MJ pointed out.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Mrs Brown assured them. "Plus Hobie's been seeing just how much his friends care now that they've been running in and out of here all weekend."

There were flowers and get well cards lining the windowsill with little room leftover. MJ put the one from her and Peter next to the football shaped one Flash had left. Mrs Brown announced "I'm going to get some snacks. You kids want anything?"

"I'll come with you," MJ volunteered. She leaned in to give Hobie a quick hug and whispered "Get better." Peter and Hobie placed their snack orders and the women left them alone.

"I haven't turned in the pictures I took." Peter said once the door to the hallway was closed.

"What?"

"Of you fighting Spider-man." Peter's face grew dark. He was angry and worried and it was coming off dangerous.

"I thought you quit The Bugle?" Hobie started. "No, I mean who wouldn't follow Spider-man. I was wondering why you showed up."

"I showed up because my friend was hurt and I was worried." Peter explained.

"We've never quite been friends." Hobie shrugged. "But thanks."

"So the Prowler? Why?"

"The youth center kept me from being picked up by gangs. They use kids as dealers and runners because they can't get arrested for as long." Hobie sighed. "When the center had to close down. I saw the sharks and vultures picking up the kids who no longer had that safe place to go to. I couldn't let it happen. All the gear from the center is still there. I just took over the metal shop and set myself up. Figured I could be a real hero. Fix the mistakes made by Spider-man. Look out for the little guy. I got lost in all the anger. Didn't see that I was making worse mistakes than the one Spider-man had."

"I'm not planning on turning over the pictures," Peter said. "I won't sell them to the Bugle and I'm on contract not to sell Spider-man photos to any other publication for the next two years."

"Why not?" Hobie asked. "The cops could really use them."

"Yeah," Peter agreed, "And I might have to. It all depends."

"Depends on what?"

"What's next for The Prowl--the guy who did this?" Peter asked. Changing his question as the door swung open and MJ and Mrs Brown returned to the room. Arms full of snacks. Healthy and junk food.

"Spider-man knocked some sense into him," Hobie declared.

"Good." Peter agreed. MJ gave him a quizzical look. The chatting returned to safer topics. "Get better buddy." "Thanks for the M&Ms Mrs B." And soon the next group, Liz and Mindy, arrived and Peter and MJ were leaving.

"What's going on?" MJ asked Peter in a whisper as they started the journey out.

"I was feeling kind of guilty I hadn't saved Hobie," Peter admitted while guarding the whole truth. "I just wanted to know what had happened and how I could prevent it for next time."

"You're a good guy, Peter Parker," MJ pulled him in for a quick kiss on the cheek. Peter blushed and MJ poked him in the ribs. They turned towards the elevators just as Liz slipped back into Hobie's ward with a sneer on her face.

M3 was always a place to feel awkward. Teenagers: hormones and stupid decisions came together like baking soda and vinegar. This Monday morning it was worse for some people. Unable to convince her parents that her hangover was the flu, Liz showed up. She hadn't talked to any of her circle since Harry and Gwen had walked her home. She really didn't want to look anyone in the eye today. She caught Seymour looking at her but he hurried on when she gave him a proper scowl.

"Where have you been Liz?" Sally had on a bright smile when she grasped her best friend in embrace. "You missed all the fun we had this weekend."

"Like Hobie getting beat up?" Liz asked hoping to keep Sally's affected congeniality away from her own drink induced embarrassment and sourness.

"Oh God!" Sally smacked Liz across the upper arm, "No! Look, Hobie's going to be OK. The police or Spider-man's going to get the guy who hurt him. We need to see the good in that and move on to the good in everything else."

"Thanks Sal," Liz smiled for the first time since the party, "Look, I really want to forget all that happened."

"Hey this beautiful hair isn't only for show," Sally puffed up her blonde ponytail, "I can forget anything."

"Ah, I always hated that." Liz admitted.

"Hated what?" Sally cocked an eyebrow.

"Playing dumb." Liz looked over to the dry fountain Sha Shan and Flash were talking hand in hand. "Terrified he wouldn't have liked me if I wasn't a bimbo cheerleader. It was exhausting."

"I know what you mean," Sally gave a crooked smile, "I never had to play dumb for Rand. He used to get so mad when we started that way last summer. Turns out being a controlling bitch is better than a simpering bimbo. It's so easy to fall into that hole though."

"Ha," Liz smiled again, turning away from Flash and moving into the school. Peter was coming and she didn't want that heartache right now. "And I bet Rand is feeling the effects of Queen Bitch now."

"Princess Bitch," Sally corrected, giving a flutter of her eyelashes and an innocent lip biting smile. The cheerleaders laughed their way inside.

"I knew you were kind and considerate. That was why I dated you in the first place. I let myself get so twisted up over," Sha Shan's voice dropped several decibels, "first time." She continued with her regular volume, "I'm glad you're willing to wait."

"Anything babe," Flash grinned, "I'll tell you what though. When you can say first time without dropping your voice. I'm coming for you."

"Really?" Sha Shan brushed her hair back over her ear. She couldn't kick the goofy toothy smile from her face, "Good. I'll be ready."

"Excellent," Flash declared. "So now that the play's all done, what will you be working on next?"

"Actually, I got this idea from talking to Hobie in the hospital," Sha Shan began animatedly describing her next big project. Flash watched with genuine interest, asking questions that showed quite a bit of perception. He may not have known how carbon atoms bonded to hydrogen or how to find out the area under a curve, but he could listen when motivated.

Peter arrived with MJ. Swinging to school was becoming less of an option with the redhead showing up to catch the bus with him two or three times a week now. He had a passing thought about why she was crashing with her Aunt Anna so often but it was quickly supplanted by the way her red hair caught the breeze and showed the curve of her neck. The she flashed a bright smile. Her words slicked off the imaginative barrier protecting Peter's brain while he daydreamed about webbing her to a bed. The fingers snapping in front of his eyes kicked him awake.

"Earth to Peter," Mary Jane looked mildly put out. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Peter gave her an idiot's grin and she rolled her eyes. The bus gave them just a few minutes to get to class. The pair were hurrying to their criminology lecture. They met Gwen and Harry near Gwen's locker. It was a quick kiss she gave Harry. It was a sharp spike Peter felt. Harry was leaning over her telling her a story, using every moment to close the small distance between himself and his girlfriend. MJ interrupted.

"Morning Gwen, Hi Harry," Her heel kicked Peter in his shin. The message was clear. Get that look off of your face before you hurt Gwen.

"Oh morning Mary," Harry said, he was in a bright mood, "You and Pete seem to be getting closer."

The comment was meant to rattle Gwen and Peter. Harry could feel the feedback from where his hand rested on Gwen's wrist.

"Well we are kind of neighbors," MJ pointed out, "It's kind of amazing we hadn't really been friends before."

Peter and Gwen heard the finality in the word friends. Gwen smiled. Peter shuffled his feet.

"Anyway, you guys go ahead," Harry charmed. The change in him since watching his father go glider first into a pile of pumpkin bombs was obvious. He was more aggressive, more forceful, more charming and seemingly without the social awkward timidity people had come to expect from him.

"We're just about late as it is," MJ agreed, "But I wouldn't want to be the boyfriend who kept the police captain's daughter from class."

"It is pretty close to the bell Harry," Gwen agreed. She seemed so deflated with him. Still Gwen but not all of Gwen. Peter was feeling nostalgic for The Look.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?" Harry slipped an arm over Gwen's and another over Mary Jane's shoulders. Peter chased after them, one step behind.

"Sample SM-05 is showing signs of decay. Mild, sample is still sound. Continuing experiments with adjusted d--"

"His stink is still here." The low timbre growl of Kraven the Hunter echoed in the hollow parts of Dr Warren's ears. The scientist stood up, turned, his left hand rested on the labtop counter. He slipped his right hand behind him. His revolver was not in its holster. His face showed no hint of it.

Kraven arched an eyebrow. The smell of nervousness, sweat and adrenaline, was wafting off of the doctor. Calypso stepped out from behind Kraven. The whiff of lust mixed into the air.

"Welcome back, Kravinoff," Dr Warren extended a greeting but not a hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"The Spider-man. He has been here. Recently."

"No," Warren corrected. "I check the night cameras regularly."

"I smell--"

"I have samples." Warren interrupted with casual disrespect, "I am studying his mutation. His blood is on this slide."

"Mmm," Calypso licked her lips and approached the microscope. He stepped back. She was easy to admire in her elegant but primitive gown. He looked up to see the smug look on Kraven's face. The woman spoke, "This is magnificent, What is your price?"

"They're not for sale," Warren declared.

"You're certain?" She asked in a sensuous purr. There was no coyness in Calypso. She was as much hunter as her Love.

"Very," Warren gave no ground.

"Then you must tell me how to procure my own," Calypso's words were unconcealed threat.

"No need," Kraven declared. He picked up an empty vial marked SM-04. "I can smell a third scent on here. A woman."

Warren remained stoic and tight lipped.

"A woman?" Calypso returned to Kraven's side. "Then we do not bait the Spider, but we bait the man."

Kraven smiled or showed his teeth. Warren would never know. "Do we have a name for the woman?"

"Yes," Warren smiled. The gears turning in his head let him say "Black Cat" with a smile.

Spider-man was swinging across Manhattan in the last minutes of daylight. It had been an uneventful night after an uneventful day. He was starting to feel the effects of quitting The Bugle. The hours and work with Kingsley Inc was thin. He didn't have the portfolio of most of the photographers on staff. He only seemed to get work when Kingsley personally decided that he needed two cameras at a given shoot. The pay was great but he wasn't getting enough work. He could have pulled in nearly twice with pictures of The Prowler. MJ on the other hand was in demand. Seemed like every other day she was grabbing the uptown bus to meet up with Ms Vaughn-Pope for another assignment. Peter had only photographed her twice, and once had been in his own bedroom. He cracked a smile under his Spider-man mask. The only person he had more fun snapping pics of was Black Cat.

Speak of the devil and she will appear. Peter almost missed her. She was waiting on their gargoyle over Brooklyn. Spider-man didn't think twice. He cast a web over and swung. There were signs. She was standing, hair blowing in the breeze. Regal was the description for the Cat. However, Black Cat was playful, taunting. Yes, she was proud, but she had never shown herself to Spider-man like this before. Peter landed on the nose of the gargoyle.

"Hey Cat," Peter grinned under his mask. His heart was pumping harder than after he had dodged all of Goblin's traps. "I've been missing you."

Black Cat smirked, her lips cutting a clever game while her eyes had an ice to them. Peter would have stammered, but Spider-man didn't. "I haven't forgot about our night. I looked for you." The Spider-man scuttled forward before standing up to his height, eye to nose with the platinum haired thief. There was a chaotic sound, like drumming booms producing a frightening beat with Spider-man's own heart. The gloves of the Black Cat settled on his cheeks and she leaned in kissing him through the mask.

"Heh," Spider-man spoke with all the eloquence left within him. He almost formed a dopey comment, intrigued by the baiting grin crossing Cat's lips. The beat still rattled under his skin. He almost missed the tingles. "Cat!"

Spider-man grabbed her about the waist before he jumped. Web line grabbing the next gargoyle soon as the claws slashed down into stone. He had been heartbeats away from being threshed. "Kraven?"

Spider-man tossed the woman up onto the next ledge, swinging under and landing behind her to make sure she didn't fall. The wind rushed past him but it seemed to miss Cat's hair. He landed face to face with Black Cat.

The eyes were wrong. Everything was wrong. The drums, The drums hammered alongside his heart. She held a red-tipped needle in her left hand. Peter blinked. The world was unbalanced, tilting. The spider-sense hadn't fled him. He leapt off the wall. Eyes clashing with the hungry look in the woman's. Kraven landed from his second pounce. Cat faded into blackness.

"What is this? Trade in your hot sleek kitty for a clunky old one?" Peter landed on a glass pane above Kraven. "Should've kept the receipt."

"This is the end of you Spider." Kraven growled. His claws shrieking as they scoured glass. He was charging up the wall.

Spider-man attempted to jump over top but Kraven was quicker, stronger and already had the momentum. The Spider-sense was in chaos but his feet and arms failed to move with all the power and celerity he was expecting. Grabbed by the ankle, Spider-man was swung backwards shoulders colliding with stone wall. Kraven's hand gripped tighter on his ankle and tried to pull him back. Spider-man fought. He found purchase on the wall and rolled with a backwards somersault. Kraven had no such purchase. The leonine hunter was sent over the Spider-man crashing face into the glass. It didn't give. There was a hard crunch. Kraven let go. He was falling.