Burning Man

Gwen lay on her bed that Sunday night, studying diligently for final exams as she considered the events of the last few days. Apparently her mutant powers were greater than she had initially suspected-the injuries she had suffered in her battles with Blizzard, the Brothers Grimm, and Will O' the Wisp had healed with astonishing speed. Then there was the way the sticky, adhesive dough that the Brothers Grimm had thrown at her proved unable to stick, as it harmlessly slid off her body.

As she stood up to stretch and take a break, Gwen decided to try another experiment. Applying first scotch tape, then glue, then duct tape, and finally even her own webbing to her skin, Gwen found that they all slid off and lost their adhesive properties as soon as she wished it. Nothing, it seemed, could stick to her skin unless she wanted it to. She raised a bemused eyebrow at this, before vaguely remembering her high school biology class, and how the teacher had mentioned that spiders managed to avoid getting stuck in their own webs by means of special secretions-apparently she released secretions of her own that repelled adhesives.

Unfortunately, that's all it can keep from sticking, Gwen thought ruefully. Too bad it doesn't work on whatever else you might be stuck with, and you can't get rid of...

SPIDER-WOMAN #5

"BURNING MAN"

The next morning, Gwen came into Drama class, taking off the thick coat she wore as she came to sit down at the desk.

"Hiya, Gwen!" Gwen heard a cheerful voice greeting her, as she turned around. She smiled as she saw Kitty Pryde, Journalism major and intern at the Daily Bugle, who came down to sit next to her. Kitty moved to hug Gwen, before she passed right through her and stumbled briefly, before righting herself. Kitty was a mutant, gifted with the ability to pass through solid objects, a talent she called "phasing". Despite the difficulty many mutants faced in society, Kitty's kind heart and exuberant nature had won her many friends at Empire State University.

"Hello, Kitty," Gwen greeted her with a half-smile. "You're in a good mood this morning."

"Come on, how could I not be?" she grinned. "There's just a week left before holidays! I'm going home to see Mom and Dad and-what's wrong?" she stopped as Gwen involuntarily winced.

"No, no, it's alright," Gwen shook her head. "I'm just stressed about finals, you know," she lied.

"Oh," Kitty nodded. "Too bad we missed you at the club on Saturday-Randy and Flash were both hoping you'd be there. You've been pretty busy lately?"

"Have I ever," Gwen sighed. "Have you figured out who you're doing to do for your monologue as part of Final exams?"

"That's easy," Kitty grinned. "I'm going to do Florinda, from Aphra Behn's The Rover," she chuckled. "How about you? You would have made a great. We should have done a duet..."

"Your masked sister?" Gwen raised an eyebrow. "Sure, it's tempting, but I've been practicing as Portia, from The Merchant of Venice, for a while now, so I'm going with that," she finished as their professor came into the room.

"Of course, this is the parallel between the theater and real life," Gwen listened to her professor lecture the class. "We all step into and out of certain roles as we must, we all put on masks and become new people-we change with the light, so to speak. That's your task for this assignment-to find a new mask, a new role to step into, that simultaneously reflects an aspect of who you are. Try to think about how the role you choose reflects an aspect of your personality that you might keep hidden, or is otherwise important to you."

Gwen sat impassively in her seat, looking around at her classmates, before finally staring intently at a mirror leaning on the far wall.

Even she was unsure of exactly what she felt at the moment.

"So, I'm going to-" Kitty started as she caught Gwen after class, before a loud, piercing laughter interrupted her, causing Gwen to being trembling in rage.

"Lady Macbeth?" Felicia Hardy scoffed as her catty friends laughed out loud behind her. "I thought you'd be Bozo the Clown, what with the way you dress!" she cackled at Marie-Ange Colbert, blocking Marie-Ange's way as she tried to proceed down the hall. Marie-Ange reddened in humiliation, but she said nothing, looking away in anger.

"That dirty..." Gwen began, breaking away from Kitty and marching over to the argument, Kitty following behind her.

"Oh, and what would you be, Felicia?" Gwen demanded heatedly. "A reject from The Taming of the Shrew?"

"Don't you ever get tired of this, Stacy?" Felicia rolled her eyes. "Of being a total idiot, I mean?"

"Says the girl stupid enough to make it with Harvey Broxtel in high school," Gwen snorted in disgust.

"You...you..." Felicia began, trembling with rage.

"Truth hurts, doesn't it, Felicia?" Gwen spat.

"This isn't over, Stacy," Felicia spat. "Believe me, this is far from over."

Spitting at Gwen, she quickly turned around and walked off down the hall.

"Are you alright?" Gwen asked Marie-Ange, who had stood silently watching their exchange, as her voice took on a much softer tone.

"Piss off, Stacy," Marie-Ange spat venomously. "How many times do I have to tell you to mind your own business? I don't need your help, and I don't need your pity," she scowled, before pushing past her and setting off down the hallway as Gwen remained behind, confused and nonplussed.

"Uh...Gwen?" Kitty asked hesitantly, coming up behind Gwen. "What was that all about?"

"Felicia and I went to Midtown High together," Gwen muttered, looking at the floor as she accompanied Kitty out of the building. "She's always been a bitch...and she always manages to set me off like that," Gwen finished, sighing in frustration.

"Just let it go," Kitty advised her. "She's probably just baiting you..."

"I can't, okay?" Gwen spat, her temper rising again. "I...just...can't," she said, shaking her head vigorously. "Besides," she said quickly, "how do you cope with it? All the crap you must have to put up with, being a mutant and all."

"It's hard," Kitty sighed. "Sometimes I get so angry, I think of trying to join Magneto's Acolytes or the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants...but then I realize I'd just be giving bigots like Graydon Creed more ammunition for their sick crusade. But, really, when I have friends like you, and Mary Jane and Peter, in a way it doesn't matter. Sure, I'm a mutant, and you guys are all baseline humans, but you all treat me like a person, not a freak. As long as I have that, what else do I need?"

They walked in silence for several minutes.

"What was it like, though, being a mutant?" Gwen finally asked again. "I mean, you wake up one day, and then you find you have the ability to...well, whatever your powers are. In your case, it's phasing. How'd you deal with it?"

"I never really thought about that," Kitty said after a moment's thought. "I don't even know what I felt for a while...fear? Confusion? Happiness? It took me a while to get used to the idea, and even longer to figure out what to do with them."

"...So what did you do with them?" Gwen asked. "Weren't you contacted by the X-Men, or something like that?"

"I didn't really want to get involved in all that," Kitty shook her head. "I want to be a journalist, a theater and film critic, you know? That's why I'm working at the Bugle right now. Maybe phasing isn't the most useful power for it-" she couldn't help but laugh as she walked through a park bench, "-but that's what's more important to me right now than any kind of mutant politics. I'm not ready for anything like that yet-I'm not going to get involved just out of spite or something like that."

Gwen visibly flinched.

"You okay?" Kitty started in concern.

"Yeah...yeah, I am," Gwen lied, shaking her head. "Just thought I had to sneeze for a second."

"She just gets under my skin," Gwen said to Jill and Helen that afternoon at Aunt Nancy's place. "I...I just can't help myself whenever I hear that screeching, catlike voice..."

"I doubt anyone can blame you," Jill said dryly, as Helen managed a small smile. "What's with that Marie-Ange chick, though? She doesn't sound too grateful for your trying to stick up with her..."

"I don't know," Gwen shrugged. "She had a pretty rough time of it in high school. She and Felicia were always at each other's throats back in the day."

"Really?" Jill asked. "What was it like?"

"Marie-Ange was always one of those quiet, studious types," Gwen replied, "and she always had her nose in a book. Didn't pay too much attention to her wardrobe or anything like that, either. All that got her on Felicia's bad side, and she just began picking on her day after day after day...it was horrible. I wish I'd done more to try and stop it..." she sighed. "Then again, Harvey would probably have tried to kill me," she realized grimly.

"Harvey?" Jill prompted.

"Harvey Broxtel," Gwen informed her. "He considered himself Felicia's boyfriend, everybody else would probably prefer the term 'stalker'..."

"How's that?" Jill wondered.

"Harvey came from this rich upper-class family. His parents tried sending him to Midtown High to try and teach him some humility, but it turned out to be a big mistake..."

"Parker!" Harvey Broxtel roared down the hallway at Peter Parker. With his powerful build, athletic physique, and thick black hair, he easily towered over the skinny science student commonly known as 'Puny Parker' for his lack of muscles and athletic talent.

"Were you looking at Felicia in gym class today, Parker?" Harvey bellowed in his face.

"N-no...I..." Peter began, paralyzed by fear.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Harvey snarled, his voice low and thick with menace.

"I wasn't looking at her!" Peter protested.

"I'll teach you to call me a liar!" Harvey growled, pinning Peter against the lockers with one hand while balling the other into a fist.

"That dirty-" Jill began.

"Hey!" Harvey shouted at the man in the Red Sox jersey as he walked towards Times Square.

"What?" the man, obviously an out-of-town fan from Boston, asked in reply.

"Why the hell are you wearing that piece of shit jersey?" Harvey demanded.

"Because I feel like it," the guy spat. "Piss off."

It was, of course, only after the Boston fan turned his back that Harvey jumped him.

"Oh God-" Jill gasped.

"He had a second-grade concussion, a dislocated collarbone, and about six broken ribs when Harvey was done with him. It didn't help that he refused to file charges because he worked for a company that Harvey's parents owned a rather large part of."

"That dirty-" Jill began.

"It gets worse," Gwen said grimly.

"Come on, babe," Harvey grinned, as he tried to drag Liz away from Harry at the school dance. "Don't you want to dance with a real man?"

"Get lost, Harvey!" Harry spat at him, as he tried to push Harvey away, only to be shoved hard and sent stumbling back several feet.

"Let's do it, sweetie," Harvey smiled, as he tried to pull Liz away. "They're playing our song."

"Excuse me?" Liz said, trying to pull away from Harvey. "I don't want to dance with-"

"I didn't give you a choice, bitch!" Harvey shouted. As other students began taking notice, he raised his other hand to strike Liz. Fortunately, Harry came over and grabbed his arm, causing him to release Liz and turn to punching Harry in the face. As Harry fell back and landed on his back, Harvey raised his foot to stomp on him, until Gwen came up between them. With an expert twist of her feet, she tripped Harvey, sending him to crash heavily on his back as Liz helped Harry stand up.

"I'll fucking kill all three of you!" Harvey roared, as a number of other students started advancing on the scene, determined to prevent any fights from breaking out.

"That's it, man," Flash Thompson ordered as he shoved Harvey back into the arms of some of his football teammates, who were acting as security for the dance. "You're gone."

"You think you can scare me, you fag?" Harvey spat, struggling in the arms of the football players. "All I have to do is tell my parents, and-"

"And what?" sneered Flash. "Midtown High's counting on me and Hobie to bring home the championship this year," he grinned. "It'd be a pity if he and I decided to quit the team because of whatever shit you try to pull. Who do you think the teachers are going to listen to more...the asshole new kid who thinks he can run things because of daddy's money, or the school's top athlete?"

"This isn't fucking over!" Harvey yelled as he was bodily dragged out of the school gym and thrown out into the mud outside.

Jill only turned pale as Gwen continued.

Detective Kris Keating, of the New York Police Department, was a generally hard-edged cop, often given to griping and complaining. One thing he never, ever complained about, however, was paying taxes, particularly when those tax dollars went to pay for the martial arts lessons and batons given to police officers.

As the masked man charged at Detective Keating, it took all the detective's training to block the baseball bat, spiked with nails no less, that the thug swung at him, with his baton. He struck back hard, catching the man on the side of the head and knocking him down, before he spun around and smashed another man in the face.

The second man, also wearing a strange mask, fell back and collapsed, as a young woman lunged at him with a knife. With a back-and-forth swing of his baton, Detective Keating knocked the knife out of the girl's hand and knocked her senseless.

After handcuffing the three masked thugs and radioing for backup, Detective Keating went over to examine the victims of the home invasion, whose screams had somehow managed to alert him as he passed through the neighborhood on his way to meet with a police informant. They were alive-barely-but their faces and bodies were livid patches of bruising and scabs, and Detective Keating shuddered as he called for an ambulance.

Livid, he whirled around and unmasked the three thugs, one after another, before recoiling in shock at the faces he saw underneath.

"I'm gonna have your badge for this, you son of a bitch!" one of the men shouted at the detective.

"You...you're Gary Broxtel's kid," Detective Keating stammered in horror.

"Got that in one," Harvey rolled his eyes.

"What the hell are you..." Detective Keating began. "Why the hell did you do this? What did these people ever do to you?"

"He snitched on me," Harvey snarled, indicating one of the two badly beaten teenage boys, the son of the home's owners, who groaned and rolled over, gripping the edge of a couch as he tried to stagger to his feet, before going pale and falling down onto it, his face white with fear. The other unfortunate victim, as Keating would later find out, was simply an unlucky friend who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"He...beat me..." the young man said in a daze. "He wouldn't stop...laughing..."

Incredulous, Detective Keating whirled around back at Harvey.

"You think I give a rat's ass about a peon like him?" Harvey sneered. "I have the right to beat on him, goddammit!"

"And I'm sure your new cellmate will be saying exactly the same thing," Detective Keating said quietly, as he saw the flashing lights out front.

Harvey's angry shouts and cursing threats echoed for blocks around as he was thrown into the back of the police car. =

"...Yikes," Jill finished when Gwen completed her last anecdote. "What the hell's that guy's problem, anyway?"

"I'm not even sure I want to know," Gwen muttered in reply.

"Marie-Ange and Harvey both sound like they've got some serious anger management problems," Jill commented.

Gwen paused for a long moment, looking at Jill intently, before her gaze shifted over to her mother, who merely sat in silence.

She found herself shaking her head vigorously, before downing the rest of her tea and pouring a fresh cup.

"So what's this guy's story?" one of the prison guards asked the other as they waited for the convict they were supposed to be escorting.

"He's on his way to Attica," one of the other guards answered as two more of their fellows emerged, dragging Harvey Broxtel with them. "Heard he got into fights with a lot of other inmates, sent a couple of them to the hospital, provoked a riot, shit like that. Spent most of his time in solitary confinement."

Harvey Broxtel was uncharacteristically quiet that afternoon, letting himself be pulled along by his guards. Perhaps it was a reaction to his being told he was going to Attica Prison, perhaps it was an internal reflection on his seething temper and violent mood swings.

More likely, however, it was his waiting for the right moment.

Harvey Broxtel had become notorious on Ryker's Island among the prison staff and his fellow inmates, but more than that, he had become feared, so much so that several staff members had agreed to provide him with special dummy shackles that appeared solid, but from which Harvey could easily free his hands and feet.

As an added bonus, the shackles remained as solid and heavy as any real chains, and as such made ideal-and vicious-weapons when swung.

Harvey laughed hysterically as he climbed behind the wheel of the police wagon meant to take him to Attica, and took off like a bat out of hell down the road, screaming through downtown New York. Loud screams, screeches and honking sounds were heard as people and vehicles scrambled to get out of Harvey's way, producing a horrific racket that only made him laugh all the louder.

One large truck, marked with the logo of Roxxon Industries on the side, couldn't get out of the way fast enough, its driver wary of igniting the canisters of alternate-energy experimental plasma he carried as cargo. Harvey didn't bother to alter his path to get out of the way of the truck, only continuing to cackle like mad as he stomped down on the gas pedal, grinning wickedly as he continued straight on.

Shouting and cursing, the driver of the Roxxon truck could only curse and slam on the brakes, before scrambling out of the cab and running for dear life.

His ducking into the concrete office building saved his life, but it didn't keep him from shuddering as the explosion of the truck as it collided with Harvey's police wagon shattered the windows and doors around him and spat a gout of flame into the building, setting everything around it on fire.

Through it all, he was sure, the truck driver could hear Harvey Broxtel's insane laughter.

On her way home, Gwen walked as if she was in a fog, her mind swirling with images of her father, her mother, Jill, Kitty, Harry, Liz, Blizzard, the Will O' the Wisp and the Brothers Grimm. Her face was set in stone, as her eyes glittered with something between anger and confusion. She could not tell just why she was in such a foul mood, even as her thoughts shifted to the supervillains and petty criminals she had captured so far as Spider-Woman. As she did so, she felt a sickening tension rise up within her, even as her pace began to quicken.

The screams were the first thing that jolted Gwen out of her reverie, and she quickly turned to see the towering flames a block away, as well as the wails of sirens as firefighters struggled to contain the blaze. She also heard a chilling laughter on the breeze, that somehow echoed above the flames and the sirens, and made a cold shiver run down her spine as she tried to recall where she had heard that laughter before.

And yet, almost unthinkingly, she found herself running for an alley, taking only a few seconds to change into Spider-Woman and hide her clothing and backpack. Her previous mental turmoil was completely forgotten as she began wall-crawling to the roof of the building and leaping down to where the flames were burning.

She was confronted with a horrifying sight-in the midst of the burning buildings and flaming wreckage, stood a figure from which the fires were emanating, igniting everything around him as he laughed hysterically. Spider-Woman noted, much to her own amazement, that the man was clad in a suit of yellow metal that had, for lack of a better word...melted into his skin and become fused to his body, with the metal plates on his thighs and arms scorched a bright red. A twisted facemask, assembled from several broken shards of metal and fused together in a jagged, disturbing pattern, from behind which two bright golden eyes glittered.

Swinging down into the middle of the street, Spider-Woman sprayed her webbing over as many of the flames as she could, smothering and extinguishing them before she smashed open a city bus caught in the wreckage, allowing its passengers to escape before the flames reached the bus's gas tank. The metal-clad man whirled around, his laughter suddenly ceasing as he saw Spider-Woman.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded in a crackling, rasping voice, menace creeping into his voice as he suddenly began radiating an aura of flame around his whole body. "Are you getting in the way of my fun?"

"F...fun? You call this fun?!" Spider-Woman spat in disgust and horror, even as she extinguished more of the flames with her webbing. "Wh...what are you?"

"Call me...Firebrand," the metal-clad figure smirked. "And of course it's fun to watch these lowly peasants squirm. That's all they're good for."

"You sick-" Spider-Woman began, as she released a double sting blast at Firebrand. Hearing the sounds of fire engines behind her, Spider-Woman realized she had to keep this lunatic busy so the firefighters could put out the flames.

Firebrand's body radiated fire as he sprung into the air, wreathed in a fireball, flying above Spider-Woman's sting before coming down at her like a flaming meteor. Spider-Woman somersaulted out of the way, before dodging the hand-held fireballs Firebrand flung at him and coming at him with a double flying kick. Firebrand was knocked back as she made contact, but Spider-Woman screamed in pain as her feet were burned by Firebrand's red-hot chest plate.

"What's the matter?" Firebrand rasped in amusement. "Am I too hot to handle?" Bursting into laughter again, he joined his hands and created a long jet of fire that the limping Spider-Woman barely dodged, before shifting upwards and blasting the building behind her. Already weakened from the earlier flames, a wide part of the building collapsed, dropping a large pile of flaming hot wreckage on Spider-Woman. Slowed by her burned feet, she was unable to get out of the way in time before she was buried.

All Firebrand did was burst out laughing once again, before he turned his attention to the firefighters trying to put out the blazes he had started.

Lazy, bloated civil servants, Firebrand grinned as he conjured another ball of flame. I'm going to enjoy-

The first bits of flung rubble caught Firebrand off guard, before he whirled around to be hit in the chest by another piece of debris, wielded by Spider-Woman as she swung it at him on the end of a webline. As he staggered back, he was struck by Spider-Woman's sting blasts, before she webbed up another piece of rubble and swung it like a flail, driving him back before she snagged him with a webline to keep him from getting too close to the firefighters.

Firebrand's eyes suddenly began to glow brightly, as he took to the air, flames burning brighter than ever. Livid with rage, he threw a massive spear of fire at Spider-Woman, who barely dodged it, before he threw several more fireballs, all of which she barely managed to avoid. Finally, his fury rising even higher, he came down at Spider-Woman like a blazing comet. She barely managed to spin a web-shield to defend herself as Firebrand smashed into her, his flames creeping around the web shield to singe her as they crashed into another building, setting it ablaze before Firebrand drove Spider-Woman into a wall and smashed up through the ceiling and onto the roof. With a commanding view of the surrounding neighborhood, Firebrand poured out his rage, setting businesses and homes on fire, his hatred of everything he saw around him fuelling the flames.

It was all Spider-Woman could do to get to her feet as she struggled to put out the fires around her and drag out the occupants of the burning building. Her entire body stung abominably from the burns she had suffered, and every footstep made her feel like she was walking on hot coals. She barely felt the pain, however, as she leapt from floor to floor, smothering the flames with her webbing before lowering people safely to the ground. Outside, she heard the screams of victims and the shouts of fire and ambulance crews, and wasted no time in ushering the people she had rescued into their arms.

Firebrand's cries caught her attention, however, and she immediately leapt for the roofs once again, and saw the flaming maniac setting the rest of the block afire as he continued to focus his powers. If anything, he was hotter than ever now, and Spider-Woman found herself sweating profusely as she came up behind him, hitting him with another double sting-blast as he came around, before reeling him in with a webline and hitting him with a large piece of concrete. Quickly spinning another web shield as Firebrand stumbled on the roof, Spider-Woman repeatedly struck him with it, before almost knocking him over the edge. Catching him with a webline before that happened, Spider-Woman struck him with another sting and began webbing him up, hoping to smother his flames long enough to knock him out.

All she managed to do was fuel Firebrand's anger, and his flames began burning hotter than ever as he tried to sear through her webbing. Radiating flames from his feet, he took to the air, dragging Spider-Woman into the air as she hung on determinedly.

"I'm done with you, bitch!" Firebrand roared, as Spider-Woman found herself nearly passing out from the heat. She barely felt herself swung around by Firebrand, and came back to a crashing reality as he slammed her into the side of a building. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she stubbornly held on to the web line as her own anger began to rise. Thinking quickly, she looked around and saw a fire hydrant below her. Blasting it open with a sting blast, she sent a tower of water rocketing upwards, briefly cooling her before it came up at Firebrand.

Of course, Firebrand had anticipated someone trying something like that, and so he spun around to get out of the water's path.

Just as Spider-Woman had expected. Leaping off the side of the building, she swung Firebrand up and around, catching him by surprise before he could steady himself, before slamming him into the street. As he struggled to stand, dazed by the impact, Spider-Woman repeatedly blasted him with her electric sting, before he finally staggered and collapsed.

At that moment, Spider-Woman felt like doing the same. As her adrenaline slowed, she felt a terrible exhaustion creep into her limbs, even as the pain of her burns and bruises became all the more evident. She had developed a greater resistance to injury from her mutant powers, but the pain left her dizzy and stumbling.

Taking a deep breath to focus herself, she turned to the task of helping the fire and rescue crews, as much as she was able. Her webbing continued to smother the flames, and she continued to help evacuate trapped citizens, but she was shocked and horrified by the sheer amount of damage Firebrand had caused before she had stopped him. The villain's fires had consumed three, maybe four, city blocks before the fire crews could get them under control. Eight people had been killed, and nineteen more were on their way to the hospital with burns or smoke inhalation.

Staggering back to retrieve her street clothes and schoolbag, Spider-Woman somehow managed to make her way home, ignoring the looks she received in the street or from her fellow tenants as she made her way into her apartment and crashed limply down on the bed. In her daze, she was vaguely aware of feelings of joy, anger, relief, sadness, and pain as she drifted into sleep.

In her mind's eye, however, she involuntarily replayed the sight of burning homes and flaming businesses, with Firebrand alternately laughing or screaming into rage, which seemed to only make his fires burn all the stronger. The angrier he got, the hotter he got, it seemed. She wasn't sure who he was-it would have been hard to distinguish anyone under all that twisted metal, much of which seemed to have melted and fused to his flesh-but the vague sense of familiarity only heightened her anxiety.

What she did not understand, however, was why her thoughts continued to return to Firebrand's temper and the destruction he had wrought with his fiery powers.

Nor could she tell why she felt a sudden chilling tension crawl over her at the same time.

(Next Issue: The dangers posed by costumed criminals seem trivial by comparison when Gwen receives some very subtle, but very clear, threats from her father George about Helen Stacy's divorce proceedings. As Gwen searches for a solution to her problem, she bears witness to the increasingly ugly confrontation between Marie-Ange Colbert and Felicia Hardy...All this and more in Spider-Woman #6: Luck of the Draw!)