Artist's Conception

"Did you not want to do this?" Liz Allan asked, noticing how Gwen Stacy seemed about to speak before she hesitated.

"It's not that," Gwen said, shaking her head. "I'm just trying to figure out where to begin."

Two days ago, Liz learned that Gwen was also the costumed superhero who called herself the spectacular Spider-Woman. Gwen had been forced to quickly suit up to fight her old enemy Supercharger, and it didn't take long for Liz to put two and two together. Liz previously had reason to think Gwen was Spider-Woman, given how soon the web-slinging heroine appeared on several previous occasions when Liz was in danger.

After Gwen defeated Supercharger, she needed to spend some time recovering with her family and assisting the police with their investigation into Supercharger's attack. From what the police determined, Supercharger was acting on behalf of a group of young men who called themselves 'involuntary celibates', murdering young women who'd rejected the men. The involuntary celibates, called 'incels' for short, had all been arrested for their parts in Supercharger's crimes. Many of them would be charged as accessories to murder, and others were facing stalking and cybercrime charges.

Gwen and Liz were only able to get some private time to discuss Liz's learning Spider-Woman's identity two days after Supercharger's assault. Liz wanted to know why Gwen became Spider-Woman, and Gwen agreed to tell her.

While Gwen was initially reluctant to tell Liz, she warmed to the idea once she'd thought about it. She hadn't really discussed her motives with anyone besides her boyfriend Randy Robertson, her fellow superhero Peter Parker, better known as the amazing Spider-Man, and Peter's Uncle Ben.

Randy, Peter and Ben had all been really supportive, of course, but despite that Gwen found herself wanting to talk to Liz about it.

For some reason, Gwen felt as though it was a long time coming.

ULTIMATE SPIDER-WOMAN #100

ARTIST'S CONCEPTION

"If you really want me to start at the beginning, I might as well tell you about my home life," Gwen said. "You don't need me to remind you about how short-tempered I could be, and how I never really let anyone get too close besides you and a couple of other people?"

Liz nodded, recalling all too well what Gwen was like in high school and in her first semester of university. She'd been almost an ice queen in high school, frequently losing her temper. Gwen often looked available, but she was often unobtainable, frequently dating different guys and participating in the Midtown High social scene, but she had very few real friends.

"A lot of that came from how my father treated my mother and I," Gwen said. "He wasn't Norman Osborn, but he was almost as bad. Everything from the way he physically beat us to the way he kept cheating on my mother to all the times he wished he'd gotten a son, the child he wanted, instead of the child he actually got. I just got so angry…and I didn't really know how to deal with it."

Liz paled at that admission, recalling the stories her boyfriend Harry Osborn told her about growing up as Norman's son.

"He was a disgusting piece of human garbage," Gwen said, a bitter expression crossing her face at the memory of it. "Besides everything he did to Mom and I, he hated mutants, blacks, Muslims, pretty much anybody who wasn't like him. He probably turned over in his grave when I started dating Randy," Gwen said, her bitter expression replaced with a smile.

"He hated superheroes too…and soon I developed my spider-powers," Gwen finished.

Liz blinked in surprise.

"Does that mean you're a mutant?" Liz asked.

"I initially thought I was, but I'm not," Gwen said, shaking her head.

"Then how-"

"It doesn't really matter, and I don't want to betray anybody's confidences by saying. It doesn't just affect me."

"What, do you know Spider-Man? Is he connected to-"

"I might or I might not know Spider-Man, but like I said it doesn't matter. Everything I'm telling you has to do with me, not him," Gwen said, her expression making it clear she wouldn't say anything else about it.

"So your Dad hated superheroes," Liz said. "Is that what made you want to become one?"

"Partly," Gwen said. "When my spider-powers first started and I thought I was a mutant, it was like something inside me snapped. I had all this anger building up inside me, and all the guilt-"

"Guilt?" Liz asked, baffled as to what Gwen could feel guilty about.

"Yeah, guilt," Gwen admitted. "Guilt at not being able to protect my Mom when Dad hurt her. I felt so powerless, and wished I could do something…"

"And that's when you made your costume and became Spider-Woman," Liz said. "To spite your Dad? Is that it?"

"I'm afraid so," Gwen said. "I was really reckless, and I was just lucky I didn't hurt anyone when I began fighting those supervillains. It wasn't the healthiest reason to do it, but I just couldn't help myself."

"And that's why you're still doing it?" Liz asked incredulously. "You've spent the last two and a half years-"

"No, it's not just that," Gwen said, shaking her head. "I learned to control myself, and I got better at what I was trying to do. Now, whenever I see people being threatened by supervillains or other criminals they can't protect themselves against, I just can't help myself. I'm often halfway to a hiding place where I can suit up before I realize what I'm doing. Just goes to show that all that practice at changing clothes quickly was good for something besides modelling," she joked.

"So why can't you help it?" Liz wondered.

"When I saw my Dad hurting my Mom, I wished there was something I could do. Now, with my spider-powers, I can do something. And it's something I need to do," Gwen said.

"Does anybody else know about it?"

"Mom and Randy both found out on their own, but please promise me you won't talk to anyone about it. The fewer people who know about it, the better."

"Alright, I promise. Just promise me one thing in return, alright?"

"What's that?"

"That whatever else you have to put up with because you're Spider-Woman, you never forget how much good you've done for us. How many times have you saved me, or Harry, or Kitty, or Kong, or your family?"

Gwen looked away at that, slightly embarrassed.

"Well…" she said.

"Well what?" Liz persisted. "I don't even want to think about what would have happened with Firebrand, or Tarot, or the Squid and Ms. Fortune," she said, shuddering.

Gwen turned back to face Liz, a grateful smile on her face.

"Thank you," she said, hugging Liz tightly.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Wesley Danson said, raising his eyebrows as he stared daggers at his lawyer.

"Why would I lie about this?" James Jackson asked, adjusting his glasses. "I'm serious-things really are this bad. They've got Timothy dead to rights."

"What the hell do you mean?" Wesley said.

"E-mail correspondence between Timothy and some of the other accused, detailed notes on Supercharger's victims, route plans to get Supercharger to and from the scenes of the murders, not to mention an affidavit from Supercharger himself," Jackson said, marking each piece of evidence off on his fingers. "Do you want me to go on?"

"Tell me who the cunt was that humiliated him for kissing her," Wesley said.

Jackson flicked through several of the open files on his smartphone before he realized it.

"Some kid by the name of Gwen Stacy," Jackson said, nodding in confirmation. "Why do you ask?"

"Never mind," Wesley said. "Just do what you can for Timothy. And whatever happens, he's not pleading guilty, understand?"

"It'll go harder for him if he's found guilty," Jackson warned him.

"He wasn't guilty of anything except being lonely," Wesley said. "And that's how you'll defend him, got it?"

Surprised by the tone in Wesley's voice, Jackson could only nod.

Three days later…

"I'm just glad insurance took care of it," Helen Lieber-Stacy said to her former sister-in-law Nancy Stacy as they walked in the front door of Nancy's townhouse. The front entrance of the townhouse was damaged by Supercharger's attack nearly a week ago, and the repair job wasn't finished yet.

"More than that, I'm glad Gwen seems to be doing better," Nancy said, rubbing her eyes before she shut the temporary door. Neither Helen, Nancy or Nancy's daughter Jill had been home when Supercharger tried to kill Gwen, and Nancy and Jill had been dismayed to see Gwen injured.

Helen was even more upset than Nancy and Jill, although she was careful not to show it. She was the only member of Gwen's family who knew that Gwen was Spider-Woman, and that Supercharger had stalked Spider-Woman himself. Supercharger wasn't even the only man who'd sexually harassed Gwen, as Helen recalled Gwen telling her about being groped by perverted fashion designer Roderick Kinglsey, and forcibly kissed at the New York Comic-Con. Helen wouldn't have been surprised if Gwen had to deal with other supervillain stalkers that she didn't tell Helen about, given the looks she'd occasionally seen in Gwen's eyes.

Thankfully, Gwen was smiling as she came into the foyer to help Helen and Nancy with the groceries. Out of all Gwen's spider-powers, Helen's favorite was the way Gwen recovered from her injuries much faster than an ordinary person. Helen noted that Gwen not only seemed to have recovered from her physical injuries fighting Supercharger, but she'd recovered from the dismay she'd felt when she learned about Supercharger's killing spree.

Once the Stacy women put away the groceries, Nancy went upstairs to watch a movie on Hulu. Helen and Gwen sat down in the living room, both tired from a long day.

"How was work?" Gwen asked.

"Same old, same old," Helen said, stretching her limbs before relaxing. "I'm actually looking for another job that might pay a little more-not to mention I'm completely bored being a receptionist. How about you? Is everything going alright?"

"Supercharger's trial is next week," Gwen said. "I'm going to need to meet with the DA's office tomorrow to discuss my victim impact statement, and then I'm going to testify at that creep Timothy Danson's trial after that…" she trailed off, her shoulders slumping.

"Are you sure you need to do this?" Helen said. "I mean, our neighbors are testifying too-"

"I'm not giving Supercharger or that Danson guy the satisfaction of thinking I'm scared of them," Gwen said, her eyes suddenly blazing with anger. "I'm not scared of them as Spider-Woman, and I'm not scared of them as Gwen Stacy, either!"

"But-" Helen started, before she realized trying to talk Gwen out of testifying would be a waste of time.

"I know you're worried about me, and I appreciate it, I really do," Gwen said as she calmed down. "But testifying like this actually helps me. I feel like I can put it behind me once-"

Gwen was interrupted by a loud shattering sound as the living room window was broken and something small flew into the room. Gwen and Helen leapt to their feet in alarm, and Gwen walked forward to examine the object. Helen ran to the window to try and see who'd thrown the object, but by the time she got there the streets were deserted.

Turning around, Helen saw Gwen's eyes flashing angrily again. In one hand, Gwen held the brick that had broken the Stacys' window. In the other, she held a piece of paper that had been wrapped around the brick. Wordlessly, she held the paper up so Helen could read it.

we're watching you

"…Is this related to those trials?" Helen asked in horror. "Is it somebody else? Or are they trying to threaten Jill, Nancy, or-"

"Whoever it is, and whatever they did it for, I'm going to make them regret it," Gwen said.

At that moment, Helen considered herself extremely lucky that she wouldn't be the target of Gwen's rage.

Lucas Johannsen took another drink of coffee as he typed at his computer. He was known around the office for his workaholic tendencies, to the point where his boss often had to order him to go home and take a break. Even that didn't stop Lucas from taking his work home, and spending most of his weekends and evenings on it. Tonight was no different, as he was determined to finish the Baxter account for Monday morning.

Lucas didn't notice the first creaking sound, or the second, but when the third creak sounded he sat up in alarm. Glancing around his study, he didn't see anything. For several minutes, everything was silent, and then Lucas resumed working, convinced that he'd just heard the house settling.

The creaking sound started up again.

Lucas tried to stand up in alarm, but then he found himself trapped in his chair. Looking down at his arms, he saw that they were pinned to the arms of his chair. Bizarrely, they were held in place by what looked like thin beanstalks and threads of glittering golden straw.

Lucas began breathing heavily as he struggled to break free, but he was trapped. Despite their slender appearance, the straw and the beanstalks were impossibly strong. For all of Lucas's efforts, he felt like he was paralyzed.

Suddenly, Lucas's chair began to turn of its own accord away from his desk. His eyes widened at the figure he was suddenly facing, not knowing what to make of this new arrival.

"…Who are you?" Lucas asked incredulously.

"Something of a clichéd first subject, don't you think?" one voice said.

"Oh, what do you expect, Percy?" another voice said. "This is a drastic shift from our previous performance pieces. Surely you can anticipate that we would need to perfect our technique?"

"Perhaps," the first voice said. "Even Matisse and Van Gogh's styles shifted drastically as their art continued to evolve…"

"Yeah, whatever," the second voice said. "Let's make some art, shall we?"

Lucas tried to scream.

He tried.

When Lucas didn't show up for work the next morning, and didn't answer his boss's calls, his coworkers became concerned. They called the police to check on him, and an officer was dispatched almost immediately. In a dangerous city like New York, where costumed villains and other supernatural threats could do things people couldn't otherwise imagine, the police often found that the sooner they looked in on missing people, the better.

Officer McDonald knocked on the door to Lucas's house, and there was no answer. He then walked around Lucas's house, checking the doors and windows. When he reached the window to Lucas's study, he saw a sight that made him pale despite his sixteen years on the force. Running back to his car, he immediately called for backup and a crime scene investigation team.

As head of the New York Police Department's Superhuman Activities Unit, many of Captain Jean DeWolff's cases were bizarre, and others were terrifying. In Captain DeWolff's opinion, some cases were just sickening.

DeWolff stood at the head of her forensic team, looking at the dead body of Lucas Johannsen slumped in his chair. A thick puddle of dried blood gathered under the chair, the result of the dozens and dozens of small stab wounds in Lucas's body. It seemed to DeWolff as though Lucas had been swarmed by dozens of tiny men all wielding small knives, climbing all over him before they cut him open. Lucas's clothes were drenched with blood that dripped down his body before pooling below his chair. His face bore a silent scream of horror, as if he was begging for mercy.

That was the first thing that caught DeWolff's eye as she walked into the room, the second being the message written in blood on the far wall of the study.

ARTIST'S STATEMENT

Art should thoroughly reflect the social zeitgeist, even elements such as suffering and murder. This work is a metaphor for how Western society is slowly killing itself through overwork and an obsession with productivity-'Death by a thousand cuts', so to speak.

Having liberated one victim from the toxic zeitgeist, we now seek resistance and liberation for others. This piece is as much an interactive experience as a passive one. You, viewing this piece, have the choice to either participate in the oppression by attempting to stop us, or join in our resistance.

The choice is yours.

-The Brothers Grimm

DeWolff finally stood back and let her team go to work, rubbing her temples.

She couldn't believe it was another seventeen years to retirement.

"How are you holding up?" Gwen's boyfriend Randy Robertson asked as they left the courthouse. "That can't have been easy."

"I wish I could say I'm used to it," Gwen said, shaking her head. "It's too bad Mom and Aunt Nancy couldn't be here-they wanted to come, but they couldn't get away from work. I really appreciate your coming, though," she continued, smiling sadly.

"How could I not?" Randy said. "Besides, somebody's got to make sure you're taking time to relax."

Sighing, Gwen lay her head on Randy's shoulder, glad for the support. In between appearing at the New York Comic Convention, battling Supercharger and Firebrand as Spider-Woman, testifying at their trials, keeping her Fire Hearts-Fire Passion network up to date, reporting the vandalism and threatening note she'd received to the police and testifying at Timothy Danson's trial, Gwen felt like she barely had time to sit down.

"And here I thought I was going to take more time off. Typical Stacy luck," Gwen said with a rueful smile, her shoulders slumping.

"Maybe not so much," Randy said with a smile, taking Gwen by the chin and leading her to look into his eyes. "I make my own luck-what do you say to lunch at that Papa Cicero's place? I'm buying."

Gwen's grateful, relieved smile made Randy's heart pound before she mouthed her thanks to him.

They continued walking towards the subway, when Gwen suddenly gave a violent start and turned around.

"What's wrong?" Randy said, alarmed at the way Gwen was quickly glancing from side to side.

"I thought I saw someone staring at me," Gwen said, "somebody I recognized."

"Are you sure?" Randy said. He glanced around in surprise, but didn't see anyone he recognized.

"…Maybe it was my imagination," Gwen said, taking a deep breath.

"Who was it?" Randy asked, not convinced that Gwen was just imagining things.

"I'm not sure," Gwen said, shaking her head. "I can't quite place where I remember them…"

"Did you want to go home?" Randy said. "It may not be safe…"

Even as he said the words, Randy knew that Gwen wouldn't do it.

"We can take care of ourselves," Gwen said, her eyes blazing with anger, "and if anyone does try anything, they'll regret it."

"That's my girl," Randy said proudly, hugging Gwen before they resumed their walk to the subway station.

"What would be an appropriate metaphor?" Barton Grimes asked his brother as he gazed up at the ceiling. "A cold heart? The weight of the world on one's shoulders? The obsession with becoming thin at any costs? Lowbrow culture and its effect on the human mind? You're supposed to be the smart one, Percy-help me out here!"

"Any of them would be suitable," Percy Grimes said, looking down and shaking his head. "My bigger concern is how seriously you take our new artistic direction."

"Why wouldn't I take it seriously?" Barton shot back, crossing his arms and scowling. "I've dedicated our powers to this, and-"

"-and you're wasting a wonderful opportunity," Percy said, frowning in disapproval.

"What do you mean?" Barton said, raising an eyebrow.

"The best art advocates for positive social change," Percy said, warming to his subject. "We could inspire the oppressed citizens to break free of the suffocating-"

"Oh yes, Percy, yes," Barton said, doing well to hide his annoyance. "We can expect to single-handedly lead a whole social revolution, bringing about a brighter tomorrow!"

"Of course!" Percy said brightly. "That's exactly what I'm getting at!"

"And how terrifying is that?" Barton said. "How much shock do we inspire in our audiences with a positive social message?"

"I…" Percy trailed off, unable to answer Barton's question.

"Remember the fear you wanted to inspire, Percy?" Barton asked, stretching out before he stood up. "How you wanted to add a touch of class to our old performances? You wanted to show the works of Dali, Goya, Bacon and-"

"Alright, so maybe I misspoke," Percy said, a half-smile crossing his face. "Would it sound better if I said we should inspire everyone to burn it all down?"

"Now you're talking!" Barton said, before he laughed hysterically.

Percy laughed with him, for the Grimes brothers shared a single body. Anyone who saw the Grimes brothers arguing might have assumed they were one man with a split personality, but the truth was quite different. They were a chimera, two individuals that fused as one in their mother's womb before their birth. Unlike most human chimeras, where one of the fused individuals completely subsumed the other, Percy had survived being absorbed by Barton and the brothers shared a body.

Using Barton's bizarre mutant conjuration powers, the Grimes brothers became a demented criminal showman who called himself the Brothers Grimm. The warped performance robberies he subjected his victims to were even more disturbing than his costume, which consisted of a black and white-striped Beetlejuice suit, a straitjacket worn as a vest, and a belled jester's hat and harlequin facemask.

"What about Spider-Woman?" Percy asked, remembering the Brothers' previous battles with the web-slinging heroine. "Is she still the straight woman in our act?"

"We're artists now Percy, not stage performers," Barton said, his demeanor suddenly becoming cold and hard. "If she crosses our path-and I have no doubt she will-she'll become our most beautiful work to date."

"A beautiful work," Percy said, revelling at the thought, "preserved forever…and ever…and ever."

The Brothers began laughing hysterically again.

Another day, another audition, Gwen thought to herself as she left the studio. I've gotten a lot of good modelling appearances, but only one callback for the acting roles. I haven't had anything good since those beer commercials last April. What is it? Did I offend someone on social media? Or is the old Stacy luck kicking in again?

Then again, maybe I shouldn't complain, Gwen continued. I've got some money saved up, I'm able to help Mom and Aunt Nancy pay the bills, everything's going well at home, Liz and Harry are doing better…

Gwen was jolted from her reverie by a series of loud screams and gunshots. Several people ran to see what was going on, but Gwen was not one of them. Instead, she broke away from the crowd to find a hiding place where she could change costume.

It didn't take Gwen long to find the hiding place she needed, or to make the change.

One hour later…

Gwen sighed wearily as she walked towards the Stacy townhouse. The screams and gunshots she heard came from a botched bank robbery that turned into a hostage-taking. As Spider-Woman, Gwen managed to capture the robbers and free their hostages, but it had been a near thing. Now, she was looking forward to a relaxing evening at home. Given how eventful the last few weeks had been, she was looking forward to a break.

Coming up the steps to the Stacy townhouse, Gwen was surprised to see an envelope with her name on it protruding from the mailbox next to the door. Setting down the tote bag containing her Spider-Woman costume, Gwen opened the envelope. Inside, she found a letter that made her blood run cold.

we know you're spider woman

see you soon

It took all of Gwen's effort to avoid screaming on the Stacys' front doorstep.

She managed to hold her horrified scream until she was inside the house and the door was closed safely behind her.

(Next Issue: One of Gwen's worst nightmares comes true as she realizes that someone she can't trust has learned her secret identity of Spider-Woman. Worse, her mysterious stalker begins to escalate their threats. To make matters worse, the Brothers Grimm continues on their artistic killing spree, determined to make Spider-Woman his latest project! All this and more in Spider-Woman #101: Theatre Of The Absurd!)