Behind the Mask: Devil's Night

Everyone sees what you appear to be.

Few know what you really are.

-Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince

"Talk about a coincidence," Gwen Stacy quipped to Kitty Pryde as they put away the groceries they'd brought back to their apartment.

"What do you mean?" Kitty asked in confusion.

"I mean the music," Gwen explained, gesturing towards the radio, which was playing Geri Halliwell's cover version of It's Raining Men. "It kind of sums up how I'm feeling right now."

"You mean with Randy, Ben and this Mark guy?" Kitty scratched her head.

"Yeah," Gwen nodded. "Remember what you told me about needing to make a decision on one of those guys?"

"Right," Kitty recalled. "So, does that mean that-"

"No," Gwen frowned. "I'm still trying to figure it out," she explained. "I mean, you're right that I'm not being fair to them, but...I..." she hesitated. "They're all really sweet guys, and I kind of hate to let any of them down, you know?"

"I do," Kitty nodded, "but like I said, you're going to end up letting them all down if you don't make a choice."

Gwen just leaned back against the counter, a faraway look in her eyes, as she tried to figure out what to do.

SPIDER-WOMAN #31

BEHIND THE MASK, PART THREE

"DEVIL'S NIGHT"

Maggie Beck stood up from her work with a smile, satisfied that her preparations were complete. All the work she'd put into her criminal psychology studies was about to pay off, particularly with what she was going to accomplish over the next few weeks. All the supervillains she'd spoken with, and more particularly all the things she'd done, were going to culminate in the final phase of her studies.

A wide, eager grin crossed her face as she thought of the benefits she was going to reap from all her efforts.

"Glad to have you aboard," Lydia Ryan smiled as she shook hands with her latest hire. "Hours are pretty straightforward, 8:30 to 4:30, entry-level salary, business-casual attire with fully casual Fridays, health insurance with our company provider, you start tomorrow. Sounds fair?"

"Sure does," Helen Lieber-Stacy replied with a smile. "It looks like a really nice place to work."

"That's because it is," Lydia assured Helen.

Working as a receptionist at Richmond Industries wasn't exactly what Helen had grown up dreaming of doing. However, after everything she'd been through with George Stacy she was just glad to have some stability in her life and to be earning some money to help out her family.

Jason Phillip Macendale pored intently over his plans for the next few days, particularly everything to do with the fall of Norman Osborn and his outing as the Green Goblin. Now, with the destruction of the Maggia and Osborn being revealed as the Green Goblin, there was even more of a void in the New York crime world, as two of the five major syndicates were no more. From all his experience with New York's criminal class, Macendale knew that Philippe Bazin, Crimewave and the Kingpin would peacefully expand to fill the void left behind by the Maggia and the Goblin without any more violence. They weren't interested into going to war again, not when there was no profit in it.

But in the meantime, Macendale realized, the gap was wide open for any new criminal cartels who wanted to establish themselves.

He smiled widely at the thought of it, and started to laugh.

Gwen's brow furrowed in frustration as she crossed the Empire State University campus, having serious doubts about the wisdom of taking out another large student loan when she'd already taken out a sizable one last year. Unfortunately, she didn't have much choice-she hadn't been able to get any other scholarships, and she had enough trouble paying bills as it was without additional tuition.

Maybe she could ask Grandpa Lieber or Aunt Nancy for help, but she really didn't feel right sponging off-

Gwen managed to stop herself at the last second before she would have run smack into a tall, gangly blonde boy who flashed a wide grin as he considered her. She recognized him as Kenny Anderson, one of Kitty Pryde's other friends who she'd met at Ben Reilly's birthday party several months ago. His ridiculous attempts at flirting hadn't particularly impressed Gwen when she first met him, but looking back on it now she found it rather funny. Indeed, the smile plastered on his face was both goofy and lovesick, his fashion sense questionable at best, and his mussed-up hair clearly hadn't been combed for several days, and yet Gwen found him almost charming in his own bizarre way.

"Oh, wow, Gwen!" Kenny's stupid grin became even wider. "You look fantastic this morning! I mean, you always look gorgeous, but wow...I mean..."

"Thanks, Kenny," Gwen giggled in spite of herself. "It's nice to see you too. How's Julia doing?"

"Pretty well," Kenny mused. "I'll tell her you said hello. I'm sure she'd love to meet you for coffee some time."

"That'd be great," Gwen smiled. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Renewing my stay in my dorm room," Kenny replied, "but I was actually hoping to run into you."

"...Me?" Gwen asked in surprise. "What for?"

"I was wondering if you'd help me with a school project," Kenny explained, his grin vanishing and his face taking on a surprisingly earnest tone. "I need some attractive subjects, and...well..." he flushed in embarrassment.

"Well, if you need an attractive subject, I'm sure I can help you with that," Gwen grinned back, "but what exactly did you have in mind?"

"It's for an art project I was planning to do," Kenny answered. "I was wondering if you'd pose for some of my drawings."

That made Gwen pause.

"Umm...yeah..." she hesitated. "Do you mean, like, nude modeling? Because, I'd rather not-"

"No, no, no!" Kenny reassured her hastily, waving his hands in denial. "This wouldn't be a nude scene, I promise! What I'm actually hoping to do is subvert the traditional idea of erotica, by showing how women can look just as good with their clothes on and in a fantastic or contemporary setting."

"Having their clothes on?" Gwen asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sick of nudes, pornography and swimsuits," Kenny frowned. "I mean, if you've seen one swimsuit calendar you've seen them all, and nudes and porn are both so common these days they've not even subversive anymore. But what I want to see is if I can show women as attractive when they're fairies, superheroes, or even more normal things like when they're sitting with their pets or stuffed toys, or when they're walking in the woods. There's less of an emphasis on pure sexual titillation and more on how the subjects blend in with the scene around them," he concluded.

Gwen rubbed her chin thoughtfully, intrigued by what Kenny was saying. She didn't know much about art herself, but she had to admit what he was proposing sounded interesting.

"So how would this work, exactly?" she asked.

"I've got a series of sketches prepared," Kenny explained, handing her a folio of work, "and I'd like you to pick out one or two that you'd like to pose in. Then, you'd pose for me while I drew you, and then I'd construct the rest of the scene around it."

Gwen nodded, but she was only hearing half of what he was saying as she glanced through the pre-sketched scenes that Kenny had given her. Her mouth fell open in amazement as she marveled over how beautifully rendered they were.

"This...is...wow, just wow," Gwen mumbled in amazement as she handed the drawings back to Kenny. "I had no idea you were so gifted," she said warmly.

"Oh...well...thanks," he grinned as he took back the sketches. "Did you want to set up an appointment for it?"

"How about this Saturday?" Gwen asked him. "Say, 10 in the morning?"

"It's a date," Kenny agreed.

"...Of the purely platonic kind, of course," he added with a wink.

Gwen just giggled at that.

Liz Allan watched the TV in stunned silence as the footage of Norman Osborn flying out of the Green Goblin's hideout on the Green Goblin's glider while dressed in a Green Goblin costume played on the news that evening. She felt sick with horror as she recalled all of the Goblin's crimes, and even more sick as she realized what Harry must have gone through with having a criminal maniac for a father.

To her surprise, she looked over at Harry Osborn and found that his expression was cold and stone-faced, betraying no sign of emotion.

They sat in silence for a minute, before Liz tried to speak.

"Harry, are you-" she tried to ask him, before he finally took his gaze off the TV and looked back at her.

"I know why he probably did it," Harry said calmly.

"What do you mean?" Liz asked in confusion.

"Why he began dressing up like a Halloween freak. Why he wanted to become the major crime lord of New York. Why he tried to blow up City Hall, why he tried to murder the District Attorney, why he tried to kill Spider-Man," Harry explained impassively.

"The only thing that's ever meant anything to Norman Osborn was control. Control over himself, control over those around him, control over anything and everything he could influence or that could influence him. He'd do whatever it took to gain that power, and when he ran into something that he couldn't control he'd go mad with rage. He saw my grandfather lose control, lose the family fortune and all his wealth and power, and Norman swore it would never happen to him," Harry stated, always in that same measured tone.

"He crushed his opponents as he rebuilt Osborn Industries, and to do that he probably enlisted the help of the New York crime syndicates. But the crime syndicates probably had leverage on him, leverage that they used to remind him who was in charge. I'm sure that infuriated Norman, although he never let it show-he was a master at keeping his true feelings hidden behind a mask," Harry continued.

"For all his anger, his hate and his desire for power, Norman took a sick pleasure in the fear he inspired in people. He liked making them afraid, making them yield to him. And I bet that was what gave him an edge against the syndicates-he was already so good at inspiring fear that he realized he could use it to take control of the syndicates himself..." Harry trailed off.

Liz just sat there, mute with amazement.

"He always used to have nightmares about demons and goblins, and Norman probably figured he could use those same nightmares to scare others and make them do what he wanted. That's when he turned himself into the Green Goblin, and what he probably based his weapons on. If he became the major crime lord of New York, he'd have control both of Osborn Industries and the crime world that helped him rise to power," Harry resumed speaking.

"And then, when Spider-Man started interfering in his plans, Norman's rage boiled up again. He couldn't control Spider-Man and the web-slinger kept thwarting his attempts to gain power and control others. All that anger and all that hate began building within him, until the volcano finally exploded. He went after that Mary Jane Watson girl because her father Philip Watson had begun crippling his organization, and tried to regain some of his power by showing the world what happened when you got him angry..."

"...and now Spider-Man, Captain Watson and Sleepwalker between them have destroyed his life's work. Osborn Industries is doomed-Norman's assets and shares in Oscorp are going to be frozen, the stock price will fall, and the corporate raiders are going to tear it apart like sharks."

"All Norman Osborn has left is the Goblin, and he's going to be a very good Goblin," Harry finished.

Liz sat there in stunned silence for several minutes.

"...How do you know all this?" she asked, almost afraid to do so.

When Harry turned back to her, it was with the most haunted look she had ever seen, one that sent chills down her spine.

"Because that's what I've grown up with," Harry explained, his voice cracking. "Because I saw his rages, his obsessions, his twisted pleasure in ruining his opponents' lives. Because I saw the other side of a man who was a sociopathic control freak. Because I got to know him better than he knows himself."

"Those are the sorts of things you learn when you're Norman Osborn's son," Harry's voice quivered, as tears began to appear in his eyes.

All Liz could do was hug Harry tightly, shivering as she felt Harry's own sadness and horror, kept hidden so long but finally released, a sensation so powerful that it was almost tangible all around him.

All Liz could do was hug Harry tightly.

And try not to think of the horrors Harry must have endured growing up in the house of Norman Osborn.

Steven Mark Levins watched the very same broadcast with a much more thoughtful look on his face, noting how well Norman Osborn's background meshed with what had just been revealed about his identity as the Green Goblin. From everything Levins had heard about Norman Osborn and his connections with the late unlamented George Stacy, it made a strange type of sense that someone as obsessively vindictive as Norman would go to the trouble of constructing a supervillain identity simply as a means of attaining more personal power.

Steven found that very interesting, particularly how even then Norman still ended up revealing his true character when he put on that green-themed fright mask.

There had been times when Gwen had felt angry, frustrated or depressed, but now all she felt was nervous concern as she made her way up the drive to Peter and Ben Parker's Forest Hills home the next day after work. After everything she'd seen on TV last night, particularly the lengths Peter had gone to in saving Mary Jane Watson, Gwen was sick with worry over what might have happened to them both. Knocking insistently on the door, Gwen had been torturing herself all day with her fears of what might have happened to Peter both physically and mentally, recalling her own all too painful experiences as a superheroine.

Ben Parker only opened the door a crack, a suspicious scowl on his face, but upon seeing Gwen he swung the door open and invited her in, his scowl changing to a look of considerable relief.

"...Are you okay?" Gwen asked curiously.

"Yeah, I am," Ben sighed. "I've just had reporters bugging me all day today trying to talk to Peter, but he's at the hospital with Mary Jane. Not that I told them that, mind you."

"How are they?" Gwen asked, unable to keep the worry out of her voice.

"Better than could be expected, actually," Ben smiled sadly. "Peter suffered some injuries in his fight with the Goblin, but it's nothing he won't be able to heal from. Mary Jane's going to be alright, too-she suffered a terrible shock, but they say she should make a full recovery. The Watsons are fighters-they've had to take at least three bullets out of Mary Jane's father over the years, but he's always recovered and insisted on going back to work."

"Thank God," Gwen breathed a sigh of relief. "How's Peter otherwise, though? I mean, mentally?"

"I don't know," Ben shook his head sadly. "He says that Norman actually saw him without his mask on, and now with Osborn still on the loose...who's to say he won't try to come after Mary Jane again? Or come after me? And the look that Peter got in his eyes..."

All of a sudden, Gwen felt very, very worried once again.

"Do you know when he'll be home?" she asked.

"Visiting hours ended just now, so probably pretty soon," Ben replied. "Why do you ask? Do you think you can-"

Ben was interrupted by the front door slamming and Peter Parker stomping into the room, a determined look on his face. Marching into the living room where Ben and Gwen were talking, his intent gaze turned into a look of confusion when he cast his eyes on the two people waiting for him.

"Uncle Ben...Gwen?" he asked in surprise. "What's going on here?" Peter demanded, the dark look crossing his face once again.

"I just came by to see how you were doing," Gwen replied before Ben could speak. "I was so worried after what I saw what happened on TV. Mary Jane's going to be alright, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded, heaving a deep sigh as he rubbed his temples. "She's just in shock. Captain Watson's looking after her around the clock, so she should be okay even if the Goblin comes after her. Sleepwalker said he'd stop by and check on her too."

"And how about you?" Gwen asked in a softer voice.

"I'll b fine," Peter said brusquely. "My wounds weren't that bad, really. The cuts on my arms will take a couple of days to heal, but I'll just wear long-sleeved shirts in the meantime."

"You know that's not what I mean," Gwen shook her head, speaking more firmly this time. "You've got that look in your eyes."

"...What?" Peter asked in surprise, recoiling somewhat as Uncle Ben discreetly left the room.

"All that anger and hate," Gwen explained, coming closer to Peter and locking her eyes with his. "You don't just want to stop the Goblin. You want to make him bleed, make him scream, make him beg for mercy, don't you? You're going to hunt him down and make him pay for what he did to MJ, aren't you?"

Peter looked away, no longer able to match her gaze. In response, Gwen reached out and grasped his hand, but he pulled it away.

"Peter, listen to me," Gwen continued, more insistently this time. "If you let that rage consume you, then you're going to drive everyone around you away. If you let your anger get out of control, then you could even hurt or kill the innocent people you're trying to protect."

Peter looked back at her, curiosity replacing his defensiveness.

"...How do you know?" he asked slowly.

"Because that's what I was like when I first started out as a crimefighter," Gwen explained. "I was so full of anger at my father for everything he did to my mother and I, and when I thought I was a mutant I became even angrier when I remembered his support of the anti-mutant hate movement. I put on my costume just to spite him, and vent all that rage."

"I pushed away everyone around me, and I got a lot better than I deserved when they put up with my bullshit," Gwen continued. "And I didn't just defeat my enemies, I actively beat on them, tried to make them suffer. I was so reckless I could have nearly gotten a lot of innocent bystanders killed. I didn't, but that was just out of luck. My friends had to call me out before I finally realized what I was doing."

"You became a superhero out of responsibility and trying to do the right thing. I became a superhero just to hurt people and release my anger. Please, Peter...I don't want the same thing to happen to you," she concluded. "If you fight Norman Osborn to bring him to justice, then you're doing the right thing. If you're just doing it out of revenge, then you've forgotten what your Aunt May told you."

A pained expression crossed Peter's face, and in response Gwen came over and grasped his hand, looking into his eyes once again.

"But...what if...the Goblin...if I hadn't..." he stammered.

"But you did," Gwen pointed out. "You saved Mary Jane from being killed by the Goblin. She needs to be treated for shock, but without you she wouldn't even be alive. And you're not the only one looking after MJ, either-Captain Watson's obviously going to protect her, and Sleepwalker's helping out too. Every law enforcement agency in the country's probably going to be going after the Goblin-he's threatened a lot of powerful people, hasn't he? Like when he tried to blow up City Hall?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded. "He never made too many friends as a businessman, either-I bet all the people he's stepped on are going to be eager for some payback, if they get the chance."

"See?" Gwen pointed out. "Because of you, not only is Mary Jane alive, but now Norman Osborn is going to answer for his crimes. All of his victims, both the people he's ruined as a businessman and the people he's hurt and killed as the Goblin, are finally going to get some justice. All because of you."

Peter reflected long and hard on that.

"...You dealt with all this too, didn't you?" he finally said after several moments. "How'd you handle it?"

"My friends reminded me that I'm not alone," Gwen explained. "They put up with an awful lot, and helped me realize the real reasons I should be wearing my costume and fighting supervillains. It's because of them that I've been able to come as far as I have. And you're not alone either, Peter-you were there for MJ when she needed you the most, and she'll always be there for you, I'm sure. And so will I-you had my back when I was recovering from what Jack O'Lantern did to me, and I promise that I'll have your back, too."

She grasped his hand again, and they stared into each others' eyes for a very long time.

They smiled almost at the same time, before they realized what was going on.

"You know, it's funny..." Peter couldn't help but say.

"Could we have..." Gwen replied softly.

They both broke off and burst out laughing at the idea.

"Yeah, in another lifetime, maybe!" Peter scoffed.

Playing Dorothy in the opening-night performance of The Wiz later that evening, Gwen couldn't help but reflect on everything Randy Robertson had told her about the story. Images of Randy, Kitty, Liz, Harry, Kong McFarlane, Peter, Ben Reilly, Mark Raxton and her cousin Jill all passed through her mind, reflecting on everything they'd done to help her and what she'd been able to do to help them in return.

The silver slippers had given Dorothy the power to return home, but she never could have used them without the support of her friends. And without meeting her, they in turn would never have seen their own dreams come true.

Taking on different roles and exploring different sides of her personality had been one of the things Gwen had most loved about the theater. Another aspect that fascinated her was how life so often imitated art, and vice versa.

His plans had been months in the making, but at long last they were finally ready. Roderick Kingsley had made all the arrangements with all his partners, and he was set to make a true killing when the work finally began.

The lovely Gwen Stacy was the last piece required for his schemes to work, but Kingsley had already made plans to ensure she'd be involved the way he intended.

It was a disgusting, ugly storm, all screaming winds, pouring rain and hellish lightning that pounded down on New York and drove almost all the city's law-abiding citizens indoors. People only emerged to go to work or school, trying as best they could to shield themselves from the merciless flood that came down on them like some sort of hellish wrath from on high.

One particular group of people was an exception in that they didn't mind the gloomy, miserable weather at all. In fact, many of them enjoyed it, as it lent an appropriately macabre air to their activities. Many of New York's supervillains had chosen their profession as much for the mayhem and suffering they were able to inflict on their victims as the riches they were able to acquire, relishing the opportunity to indulge their sadism and cruelty. Along with committing their own individual kidnappings, murders and robberies, the supervillains had also found work as hired thugs and assassins for the city's various crime syndicates as a means of combining business with pleasure.

The collection of supervillains gathered at one particular burnt-out factory in one of the city's less reputable slum areas had greater ambitions in mind, however. With the recent gang war that had plagued New York, two of the city's major crime syndicates had been destroyed, leaving the field wide open for any new players that wanted to stake their claim. One particularly enterprising supervillain, a new arrival on the scene, had proposed to his fellow costumed criminals that they did not need to simply take orders from the crimelords-after all, if they had the power, what prevented them from forming a criminal organization of their own?

That supervillain was the Jack O' Lantern, who despite having only recently appeared on the scene had widely become noted for the escalating nature of his crimes, to say nothing of the dozens of murders he had committed, or the way in which he had almost single-handedly slaughtered what was left of the Maggia after it had been badly weakened in the gang war. Rallying his fellow supervillains with speeches about how they had the will to live the way they truly wanted and indulge their darkest, perverted fantasies, Jack had vocally expressed his hatred of the "hypocrites", in his words, who hid their own true natures behind weak, civilized masks. In Jack's mind, the civilized weaklings held back what he viewed as people of vision, who committed their crimes because such things were wrong, because they were evil and they knew it.

Jack O'Lantern considered his fellow supervillains to be the people of tomorrow, and stated that they were legion. Those villains who were interested in joining the Tomorrow Legion, as Jack had named his new syndicate, had gathered to hear what exactly the pumpkin-headed lunatic had planned.

"First things first, Jack," Electro frowned sardonically as he stood up, a skeptical look on his face. "What makes you think this criminal gang is going to work any better than any others? The Masters of Evil never stay together long, the Frightful Four's gotten their asses kicked, the Sinister Six only worked together because we all hated Spider-Man. You mind telling us why you expect a bunch of maniacs, psychopaths and sadists to cooperate on an ongoing basis, especially when there's every chance any one of us would sell somebody else out if it got them ahead? And what makes you think we'd stay loyal to you for any more time than we thought it was worth our while?"

Jack O'Lantern didn't appear fazed in the least by the question. Clad in dark green body armor, with gauntlets and boots that resembled grisly skeletal limbs, a chestguard that was covered in small skull-shaped plates, and topped off with a ghoulish flaming pumpkin head that had a demonic grin carved into the face, Jack was seated cross-legged on his hover disc, barely any higher than the other supervillains who filled the room.

"Do you honestly think I wouldn't have anticipated such potential dangers to an organization such as this one?" Jack O'Lantern pointed out, seeming to smirk and roll his eyes despite the twisted grin on his face never changing. "You see, my dear Electro, membership in the Tomorrow Legion is entirely voluntary. Members are free to come and go as they please, and they're more than welcome to give suggestions, propose schemes, or head off on their own side projects."

Some of the villains began mumbling among themselves at this, before Jack continued.

"There's going to be a leader, of course, but the members of the Legion get to vote on who that leader will be. Votes are done openly, so there won't be any ballot-fixing. Members who don't like the leader that's been elected are free to leave at any time. If the leader doesn't listen to the suggestions of the membership, then they can and should feel free to abandon him," Jack continued.

"So what do we get for being in the membership?" Flying Tiger wanted to know.

"Greater profit than you could achieve alone," Jack O'Lantern seemed to smile. "An equal share in any criminal activity you profit in, and coordinated support if you need it. The price will be 25% of your take, but in exchange you may be assured of full support for your activities and the incorporation of your own personal goals into the leader's overall plans. You see, the leader's job will be to coordinate and support the activities of the members. As one member commits a crime in one place, another member commits another crime at the same time, dividing the attention of law enforcement and the city's superheroes."

"Isn't that what we already do?" Equinox wondered.

"...Equinox, wasn't it?" Jack O'Lantern wondered. "Aren't you supposed to still be in prison?"

"That idiot Terry Sorenson is still in prison," the man who had taken the identity of Equinox suit replied coolly. "Suffice it to say that someone more worthy is underneath this suit. And now, my question?"

"Of course," Jack replied. "Well, you're all familiar with the chaos caused by the recent gang wars, the attacks by Fever Pitch's cult members, Psyko's rampages across the city, and so forth? You see, that destruction and mayhem was uncoordinated, and yet it was a golden opportunity for all of us to do what we do best. As the Tomorrow Legion, our chaos will be coordinated, carefully planned for maximum destructive effect. We'll cause more suffering than we ever could by ourselves, and we'll gain more profit than we ever could ourselves!"

"A bank robbery here, a hostage-taking there, an act or two of arson, a murder and robbery spree...each by themselves is only a minor wound, but a dozen shallow cuts will add up and cause the victim to lose that much more blood! All the blood that will flow...all the money we'll gain...just think of the possibilities!" Jack O'Lantern rhapsodized.

"...Intriguing," the Jester rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a sick grin spreading across his face. "I take it you have some plans for achieving this?"

"I never thought you'd ask," Jack O'Lantern laughed. "If you'll be so kind as to accept my suggestions for a coordinated effort, we will show this city, and all the pathetic, sniveling wretches who live in it, the true meaning of fear!"

Many of the supervillains in the room had been skeptical when they'd first come in, but now they were all attention.

It began seemingly at random, with the Porcupine attacking the famous Bloomingdale's shopping mall on Lexington Avenue and stealing a fortune in gold and platinum jewelry, even as he destroyed several of the pillars holding the building's upper floors and causing them to collapse, killing several people as they fell.

At the same time, Speedfreek tore through a Brooklyn housing project, killing eight people before immediately leaving and moving on to his next targets.

Even as the police began responding to the first two calls, the Jester hit the Plaza Hotel, emptying the hotel safe and robbing several of the prestigious, high-class guests who had come to stay there.

Black Mamba ripped into the hearts and minds of the innocent theatergoers on Broadway, leaving them screaming and begging for mercy as she played with them like puppets on strings and cleaned out both the box office and the theatergoers' wallets.

Equinox smashed through the bank vault doors with large pillars of ice, even as he turned his fires on the hapless security guards and police officers who had tried to stop him.

Mr. Fear caused mass panic and pandemonium in the New York subway tunnels.

Electro escaped with a fortune in unmarked bills from the Aces High casino after blowing open the main safe with his electrical bolts and using the wreckage to carry away his loot.

As the members of the Tommorow Legion committed their crimes, they understood why Jack O'Lantern had wanted to wait until today for them to begin their work. With the city nearly flooded by the rain, it was very difficult for the police to get around and reply to the emergencies, while the supervillains had typically taken much more straightforward and direct routes through the sewer tunnels or the subway. With the crimes spread out across the city, it would be that much harder for the police and the superheroes to respond in time, particularly when the attacks were coordinated to break out one after another, forcing the heroes to either stop on their way to one crisis and then respond to another, or ignore it and hope against hope that someone else would be able to deal with it.

Jack O'Lantern had predicted all this, and he prided himself on correctly anticipating how things would turn out. Of course, there was the most important part of all to his plan...

He had saved the most important job for himself, namely that of creating a hostage situation at one of the downtown office buildings rented by Stark Enterprises. Secure in the knowledge that Iron Man was in California dealing with Savage Steel, Jack O'Lantern fully expected that everything would work out as foreseen.

He had already rigged Gwen Stacy's TV to show his special broadcast, and the devices he had installed would alert him when she turned them on.

And once it did, Spider-Woman would come running.

Jack O'Lantern loved it when a plan came together.

Getting home from work and returning to her apartment, Gwen folded up her umbrella as she changed out of her uniform, looking forward to an evening of relaxation. Tonight's performance of The Wiz had been cancelled by Mr. Ferguson due to the very bad weather, who had phoned the cast to tell them not to come in, and as much as she had enjoyed playing the role of Dorothy Gwen was grateful for the night off.

Turning on the TV filled her with horror as she saw that every channel showed the same thing-a laughing, hysterical Jack O'Lantern in a Stark Enterprises office surrounded by crying, terrified hostages. They were bound with lengths of wire, bound at the arms, wrists and throats, even as they struggled to breathe and every motion caused blood to flow from their wrists and ankles.

By itself, that sight filled Gwen with a boiling rage, but what made it even worse was how her Aunt Nancy was one of the hostages, lines of blood already flowing down her neck as the wire cut into it.

"It's five o'clock, Spider-Woman," Jack seemed to smirk. "Do you know where your hostages are?"

To illustrate his point, he took a boomerang bat and slid it across the throat of the man tied up next to Nancy, turning the thin lines of blood coming from his throat into a full crimson flood.

"Either I get sixty million dollars, or I kill sixty hostages," Jack O'Lantern snarled threateningly as his eyes seemed to narrow. "I should also point out that all these people have received a dose of my neural gas, which robs them of all motor function and causes them to simply thrash helplessly whenever they try to move. I find that it helps the blood flow when they try to escape, or when they simply tremble in fear. It's a lot of fun to watch, isn't it?"

"Every ten minutes, another hostage dies. The clock's ticking, Spider-Woman!"

Until now, Gwen Stacy thought she had put all her old anger, frustrations and hatred behind her.

Now they had come back, and Gwen felt them more keenly than she ever had before.

The lightning flashed overhead as she sprang out her apartment window as Spider-Woman, and the thunder echoed in her ears as she web-swung across the city skyline.

Jack O'Lantern had crossed the line one too many times.

Jack O'Lantern's helmet contained several useful visual displays. One gave him a complete 360-degree visual perspective of everything around him. Another alerted him to where Gwen Stacy was at all times, using the tracking device he had planted in her back during their battle at the Plaza Hotel. Yet another one alerted him that Gwen had watched her TV, and was clearly on her way to the Stark Enterprises Building.

Jack had specifically made sure that his little broadcast would only be sent to Gwen's television, and not hacked into the general broadcast feed, until Gwen had been watching. The last thing he wanted or needed was for the police or some meddling superhero trying to stop him, for all that the rest of the Tomorrow Legion was distracting most of the police and the rest of the superhero community anyway.

A wide grin spread across the face inside the helmet as the person dressed in the Jack O'Lantern costume realized that Spider-Woman was on her way. Everything was ready, and the pumpkin-headed freak burst out into hysterical giggling at the notion of confronting the teenage nemesis who had continually interfered in Jack's fun for so many months until now.

Jack noticed that Spider-Woman was making her way around the outside of the building, no doubt seeking a safe way that she could ambush him without his threatening the hostages. In response, Jack left the main lobby area and rose up to the third floor of the building, perfectly ready and willing to oblige his guest.

"And there's my favorite lady!" Jack O'Lantern cried out eagerly as Spider-Woman smashed through the main window on the third floor, seeming to emerge from the ugly thunderstorm outside as she screamed his name in rage. "That's what's always impressed me about you-you're always so punctual, even when you're about to get your head torn off."

In response, Spider-Woman unleashed a double sting blast at Jack, who merely dodged the sting blasts as well as the flying kick Spider-Woman launched at him as he veered off to the side. He began laughing as he blasted her with a laser bolt, which knocked Spider-Woman off balance and nearly caused her to fall off the railing of the third-floor balcony before she grabbed onto the side of the walkway with her spider-grip and began hauling herself back up. Springing out of the way of the razor-bats Jack O'Lantern threw at her, Spider-Woman sprang up and zapped Jack O'Lantern with a sting blast, knocking him off balance. Catching the ceiling with a webline, Spider-Woman swung in and caught Jack head-on with a brutal swing kick, sending him flying back to crash into the far wall.

The pumpkin-shaped flash bomb Jack O'Lantern threw temporarily blinded Spider-Woman, but she switched from using her eyes to her ears and sprayed her webbing towards the sounds of Jack's hover disc, catching him on target. As she regained her sight, she sprang off the upper walkway and sprang down towards the second floor, dragging the off-balance Jack O'Lantern with her. As she spun another webline with her free hand, she swung Jack O'Lantern around until he crashed headlong into the brutal, unforgiving pillar. Bouncing off, Jack O'Lantern spun around off balance and crashed onto the second floor, howling in pain as he fell off his hover disc.

Spider-Woman came charging down at him, but Jack O'Lantern recovered faster than she expected and he blasted her head-on with a pumpkin bomb, blowing her back and giving him a chance to recover. Striking her with a double electro blast, Jack sprang to his feet, charged in at Spider-Woman as she reeled from the blows and wrapped his hands around her throat, extending his talons as he prepared to rip her throat out.

Spider-Woman saved herself from instant death by grabbing and pulling at Jack O'Lantern's hands, but to her amazement and horror she found that the pumpkin-headed psychopath somehow had superhuman strength that matched her own. They struggled for several moments, hatred burning between them as they stared intently into each others' eyes.

The screams of the hostages eventually brought Spider-Woman back to her senses, their sobbing cries for help setting her blood boiling in anger. A surge of adrenaline filled her veins as she finally knocked Jack O'Lantern's arms away and rose to her feet. Completely overtaken by her rage, Spider-Woman pounded Jack O'Lantern mercilessly with a flurry of punches and kicks, punctuated by several repeated sting blasts.

Finally, she blasted Jack O'Lantern at point-blank range with a sting blast that left major cracks in his pumpkin helmet. Spider-Woman didn't let up at all, nailing Jack with a serious of vicious punches until his helmet finally shattered.

The red-hot anger within Spider-Woman suddenly turned into ice-cold horror when she saw the face underneath the shattered pumpkin mask.

"You...you..." she gasped, still trying to make sense of it all.

"Ironic, isn't it?" the man sneered as he rose to his feet, a murderous gleam in his eyes. "The mask you just shattered is what I really am on the inside. That's the point I've been making all this time-I wear that pumpkin to show the world just who I truly am!"

His thick dark hair framed a handsome, sculpted face that belied his age, and his expression blazed with an intense combination of poisonous loathing and dark amusement at Spider-Woman's horror.

The face Spider-Woman stared into was that of a man she knew, a man who had been in her home and was related to some of her most cherished friends.

The face of Steven Mark Levins.

(Next Issue: As Spider-Woman fights to save Jack O'Lantern's hostages, she also struggles to understand what could have moved Steven Mark Levins to commit his depraved crimes. But can Spider-Woman survive against her most hated enemy, one who not only knows her powers and skills, but also her secret identity? All this and more in Spider-Woman #32: Behind the Mask, Part Four: Devil In Plain Sight!)