Theater Of The Absurd

Gwen Stacy worked diligently at her sewing machine, preparing another one of the red and gold costumes she wore as the spectacular Spider-Woman. Her last spandex costume was becoming too tattered to continue patching up, so she had to make a new one. Fortunately, Gwen's background in fashion made her skilled at designing and making clothes.

As she added a new spool of thread onto the machine, Gwen thought about how many of the skills she used in her civilian life helped her as a superhero. Her acting skills helped her disguise her voice when she was out as Spider-Woman, and also helped her keep up a brave face whenever she was shaken by the horrible things she often saw. Her martial arts training helped her quickly learn how to use her spider-powers and fight against the dozens of costumed villains she'd battled. Her experience as a model helped her quickly change in and out of costume.

Gwen frowned bitterly as she realized how some of the skills she'd learned growing up in a broken home also helped her as a superhero. She'd used her makeup skills to discreetly cover up the injuries her late unlamented father George Stacy inflicted on her and her mother Helen Lieber-Stacy. The first aid skills she'd learned to treat her and Helen's injuries also helped her treat the wounds she suffered as Spider-Woman.

Nearly an hour later, Gwen finished sewing her costume. As she began pressing it with her iron, she thought about the latest complication in her life. After she'd defeated her old enemy, the electrically powered killer Supercharger, she'd been targeted by a stalker. The stalker, whoever they were, did everything from throw threatening notes through her window to seemingly follow her around in public. Gwen reported that to the police, but then the stalker revealed that they somehow knew she was Spider-Woman.

Gwen managed to keep herself from screaming in public when she saw the note telling her that.

Her acting skills were good enough that she was able to hold her scream until she was alone in the privacy of her own home.

SPIDER-WOMAN #101

THEATRE OF THE ABSURD

Gwen wasn't sure who she could talk to about the stalker knowing her secret identity. She obviously couldn't tell the police about it, and she wasn't sure if telling Helen, her boyfriend Randy Robertson or her close friend Liz Allan about it would do any good either. All it would do was upset them, and Gwen doubted they could really help her.

Then she realized who actually could help her.

"How did this guy figure out your secret identity?" Peter Parker, also known as the amazing Spider-Man, asked Gwen over the phone once she'd explained the problem to him.

"I honestly don't know," Gwen said, anxiously twirling a lock of her hair in her free hand. "I've tried a dozen times to think about when I could have let it slip, and I simply can't think of when it might have happened. It's just like with Jack O' Lantern-I don't know what happened!"

"Maybe it was Jack O' Lantern?" Peter said.

Gwen blanched at that thought, and for a moment she began shaking with anxiety.

"It might be," Gwen said, "but he always made sure I knew it was him. Whoever's doing this doesn't want me to know who they are."

"Did you ever consider why this person hasn't made your identity public?" Peter said. "What do they have to gain from it?"

"...I don't know," Gwen said. "I wondered about Jack O' Lantern doing that, and I eventually realized that he probably didn't want any of my other enemies targeting me the way he could."

"It sounds like this person is trying to torment you," Peter said. "Does that sound like something any of your enemies might do?"

"Some of them would, but I'm pretty sure they're all still in jail, including Jack O'Lantern," Gwen said. "Maybe it's someone else entirely new?"

"Sounds like it," Peter said, "but who could you have pissed off so recently for something like this to happen?"

"...I'd still have to think about that," Gwen said, "but at least I know where I could start looking. Thanks a lot for your help, Peter. I know I haven't been in touch lately, but-"

"Don't worry about it," Peter said. "If we spent too much time together, one of us might end up outing the other to their friends or family."

Gwen used that justification herself, but it didn't entirely sit right with her. Talking to Peter and his Uncle Ben Parker always reassured her, but it was difficult for her to justify being in regular contact with them when she wasn't really connected to their civilian lives.

"I know, but talking to you always cheers me up," Gwen said with a smile. "Take care, Peter-and thanks again!"

"You too, kid," Peter said, before he hung up.

As she put her phone back in her jeans pocket, Gwen considered Peter's advice and wondered who she could have recently angered.

Was that what led her stalker to pursue her?

And how did they find out about her, anyway?

Wesley Danson pondered his next move as he reviewed the YouTube footage of Spider-Woman fighting Supercharger. He smiled as he considered how Gwen must have reacted to the note he'd left in the Stacys' mailbox letting her know that he knew she was Spider-Woman. It was just a stroke of luck-good luck for him, bad luck for her-that he'd managed to tail Gwen long enough to catch a glimpse of her changing into her Spider-Woman costume when she'd responded to that botched bank robbery.

Ever since she'd testified against his brother Timothy Danson, Wesley bore a seething hatred for Gwen. Her humiliating Timothy when he'd kissed her at the New York Comic Con led Wesley to help organize Supercharger's killing spree against the women who'd rejected men like Timothy. When Gwen's actions led to Timothy's arrest, Wesley swore he'd make her suffer.

Stalking her using techniques he'd learned from his uncle, who used to work for the FBI, was easy enough. He'd planned to make her suffer before he finally killed her-suffer in more than one way-but his learning she was Spider-Woman opened up a whole new range of possibilities.

Tailing techniques were one of the things that Wesley learned from his uncle.

Learning how to covertly contact criminals was another.

"Ah, the piece de resistance," Barton Grimes said, smiling thinly as he waited for his creations to take effect.

"Quite," Percy Grimes said, in a rare moment of agreement with his brother.

The man who was both Barton and Percy Grimes laughed quietly to himself at his handiwork. When their ovums had joined together in their mother's womb, the brothers both retained their conscious minds and grew up as a chimera. They could each speak through their body's mouth, each using a different voice when they did so.

When he joined with Percy, Barton brought his weird mutant conjuration powers with him. They used those powers to become a supervillain calling themselves the Brothers Grimm, kidnapping people and forcing them to watch the Brothers' demented 'performances' before robbing them blind. Their antics led to their battling the spectacular Spider-Woman several times, and they'd become obsessed with making her the 'straight woman' in their act.

Since their escape from the Ravencroft Institute for the Criminally Insane, the Brothers decided to try their hands at a new type of performance art. The man they were currently dealing with, noted for producing several celebrity-based reality shows, was their newest piece.

It was easy enough to break into the man's house, as the skull-faced teddy bear the Brothers conjured snuck into the man's apartment through an air vent and unlocked the door for them. Then, the Brothers entangled him with golden straw that fastened his arms and legs to the floor. Finally, they gagged him with a magician's mouth coil, and sprinkled some glittering fairy dust over his head, causing him to inhale.

The man began to writhe in agony, trying desperately to scream at the searing pain that filled his head. The mouth coil was wedged tightly in place, muffling his cries. His writhing would have turned into a frenzied thrashing, except that his wrists and ankles were bound by the golden straw. The Brothers Grimm watched in bemusement as a pinkish-gray goo began to ooze out the man's mouth, nose and ears, before he finally fell dead, the goo pooling around his head.

The Brothers Grimm smiled in satisfaction as he picked up pen and paper from the man's desk and began to write.

ARTIST'S STATEMENT

The vacuous worship of thoroughly mediocre 'celebrities', often people of very little real accomplishment or other real merit, contributes to the 'dumbing down' of society. Put more graphically, it has been said that reality television rots its viewers' brains.

We present this exhibit as a symbolic representation of what this vacuous celebrity worship leads to. Quite literally, this man's work has led to his brains being rotted away-suffice to say that he reaps what he sows.

The resistance against the zeitgeist continues.

-The Brothers Grimm

Philippe Bazin was one of New York City's major crime lords. He was also the longest-lived, having survived the upheavals that had taken down the likes of the Green Goblin, the Kingpin and Silvermane, and slaughtered would-be sharks like Gavin Thorpe, Jason Tso and Mr. Negative. Some people attributed Bazin's success to the fact that he never started gang wars-he finished them. He was known for his careful forethought, knowing that one wrong move in the crime world could always end up being the last fatal one.

So it was that Bazin was carefully planning his raids on the operations of Carl Wilkinson, alias Crimewave, and Cornelius Van Lunt, his rival crime lords. Bazin decided that the time had come for there to only be one crime lord in New York, having had enough of Crimewave's petulant childishness and Van Lunt's pompous boasting. Although he'd shared the spoils for many years, Bazin's patience had finally worn out.

Sitting alone in his study, ignoring the beautiful evening mid-May evening weather outside, Bazin put the finishing touches on the first phase of his attack. He planned to destroy Crimewave first-the foolish Van Lunt could wait until later.

Bazin's eyes gleamed as he contemplated his triumph.

Layer upon layer of it.

"Sweet Jesus," Captain Jean DeWolff, head of the New York Police Department's Superhuman Activities Unit, said as she considered the grisly crime scene. The victim was one Conrad Barclay, an investment banker who'd become widely hated by many people for what they considered his role in last year's economic crisis. Barclay was roundly criticized in the press and on social media, although he hardly seemed to care. In fact, he actually seemed to revel in the bad publicity, showing nothing but contempt for his critics.

The desperate, pleading look on Barclay's dead body showed he'd learned to respect at least one critic, though. Even for hardened veterans like DeWolff and her crew, it was a grisly sight. Barclay's body was drenched in blood, as were most of his surroundings, but what truly stood out were the large chunks of flesh torn out of the corpse and arranged neatly behind it. The cuts were artfully made and there were tiny footprints in Barclay's blood, too small to have been made by any human.

The unusual circumstances of the body would have been enough for DeWolff and her crew to be called in. It was the message, written on the far wall of Barclay's study in his blood, that truly made the first officer on the scene call for the Superhuman Activities Unit.

ARTIST'S STATEMENT

In The Merchant Of Venice, Shylock demanded his pound of flesh after Antonio reneged on his debt, only to lose his case in court. How ironic, then, that Shylock's real life equivalents so often claim not only the pound they're owed, but so much more besides.

As part of our resistance against the zeitgeist, we have decided to subject Mr. Barclay to the same fate that he condemned countless others to. We have taken several pounds of his flesh and put them on display to symbolize what should happen to all his damnable ilk.

It is not too late to join the resistance. The choice is yours.

-The Brothers Grimm.

It wasn't just the ecstasy or the champagne that got Crimewave's mind racing. The young socialite crime boss was enjoying another night at one of the city's most prestigious clubs, surrounded by male friends who wanted to be him and women who wanted to be with him. The New York social scene was his oyster, and he was the hit of any party he attended.

Crimewave was satisfied with that for a long time, but and more he thought about how much more money and prestige he could have if he were the undisputed crime king of New York. He was tired of having to share territory and revenues with Cornelius Van Lunt and especially Philippe Bazin.

"What's wrong, baby?" the woman in Crimewave's arms asked, seeing the thoughtful look on his face.

"Nothing," Crimewave said, an evil smirk crossing his face. "Just wondering who to murder first."

The woman's ecstasy high vanished in an instant, replaced with a chill at the light she saw in Crimewave's eyes.

Three days later...

If Wesley Danson was at all disturbed by meeting the Brothers Grimm, he didn't show it. The Brothers' attire, consisting of a black and white-striped Beetlejuice suit, a straitjacket worn as a vest, a belled jester's hat and a grinning harlequin mask, would have put off most people. Even if the Brothers had been wearing normal clothes, the murders they'd recently committed would have made many think twice about dealing with them.

Wesley Danson didn't think twice, though. He was eager to find someone who hated Spider-Woman as much as he did, and even more eager to speak to the Brothers Grimm now that he'd tracked the Brothers down. They were meeting in the abandoned garment factory the Brothers were using as a hideout, and Wesley was eager to share his plan with the Brothers.

"It's so nice to meet you both," Wesley said with a smile as he held out his hand for the Brothers to shake. When the Brothers did not return the gesture, Wesley motioned for them all to sit down in some of the worn-down chairs the Brothers kept as furniture.

"I imagine you're wondering why-" Wesley began.

"First things first, Mr. Danson," Barton said, as the Brothers folded their arms and put one leg over the other, staring intently at their visitor. "What makes you think we'd be interested in anything you're selling?"

"Please, call me Wesley," Wesley said with a smile.

"You didn't answer my question, Mr. Danson," Barton said. "Percy and I are very busy men."

"We have a mutual interest, you and I," Wesley said, slightly shaken at the intense look in the Brothers' eyes behind their harlequin mask. "There's a woman we all hate more than-"

"You're referring to Spider-Woman, I take it?" Barton said, raising an eyebrow behind his mask. "What possible reason do you have for hating her?"

"She hurt someone I care about," Wesley said, "and I want to make her pay. There's only so much I can do, though, and that's where you-"

"What, you think we're for hire?" Percy scoffed, as the Brothers' eyes flared angrily. "That we're just some hired thugs who'll commit murder for anyone who throws enough money at us?"

"No, not at all!" Wesley said hastily, holding up his hands. "I know all about you-I know you're artists!"

"Yes, we are," Barton said. "Which returns me to our original point-what makes you think we're at all interested in what you have to sell?"

"Because I can give you something no one else has!" Wesley said, beaming as he regained his confidence. "I know who Spider-Woman really is!"

The Brothers Grimm were momentarily struck speechless.

"You...know her true identity!" Barton exclaimed.

"Yes, I do!" Wesley said. "With my help, you can do more than just take revenge on Spider-Woman. You can make her suffer! Let her know what it feels like to lose a loved one! Ruin her livelihood! Make her ever regret being born!" he finished, his voice rising in an eager pitch as his eyes flashed with delight.

Wesley would have continued, except that he realized that the Brothers Grimm weren't reacting. He fell silent, waiting for the burst of praise the Brothers would give him for his proposal.

For a long minute, the Brothers Grimm sat stock still, staring intently at Wesley.

Blinking in surprise, Wesley tried to think of what to say.

"...Well, what do you say?" he said.

"...How dare you," Barton whispered.

"...Excuse me?" Wesley said, totally confused by the Brothers' reaction.

"How dare you interfere with the creative process!" Barton shouted, as the Brothers Grimm stood up. The Brothers' eyes blazed intently as they advanced on Wesley, who only stumbled back nervously.

"Wh-wh-what do you mean?" Wesley stammered, as he felt his blood run cold.

"Our knowing Spider-Woman's identity will ruin the game!" Barton said, the Brothers' voice suddenly calming again. "What matters is the performance, not just the end result!"

Wesley turned to run, but the Brothers Grimm threw something after him. Instinctively looking down, Wesley saw several small beans rolling on the ground near his feet. As Wesley wondered what the beans could be, he was unable to react before the beans suddenly burst into several large stalks that entangled his limbs. He struggled to break free, but the beanstalks' grip was like iron. The stalks suddenly twisted, turning him around to face the Brothers Grimm. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but the Brothers threw what looked like an Easter egg at him. The egg hit Wesley's face and shattered, releasing a doughy goo that filled his mouth and prevented him from speaking.

All Wesley could do was struggle and murmur helplessly as the Brothers Grimm came up to him.

"Barton's too angry to explain something to you, so I will," Percy said as the Brothers sneered behind their mask. "What we do is performance art. We're seeking to tear down this whole rotten excuse for a society by showing what's wrong with it. We're giving people a chance to participate in their own emancipation. Everyone has that spark of anger and despair burning within them-that's what we're trying to ignite."

"And if you're wondering what that has to do with Spider-Woman, it's because she represents the way the system corrupts people. Her anger, her spark...she could be so much more than she is. She let herself be led astray, ever since the first time she interrupted one of our performances. Once we're done with Spider-Woman, she'll become the final piece in our collection, as we free her from her own corruption. Learning her real identity would twist how she's presented. She's supposed to be a symbol, not a real person!"

"...And if we can't learn her real name, then we can't have you telling it to anyone else. If you do, it ruins our entire project. Fortunately, we can do something about that..."

Wesley tried to scream.

He wanted to scream.

He couldn't scream.

Gwen stretched out on the sofa as she typed out an eager reply on her phone to the modeling offer she'd just received. While she'd been unable to do much work the last couple of weeks due to all her troubles with Firebrand and Supercharger, Gwen was eager to get back to it. The end of May was approaching, and Gwen's career was as strong as it had ever been.

Gwen had just finished sending the text when she heard a knock at the door. Getting up warily, wondering if it was her stalker, she slowly approached the newly-repaired door to the Stacy townhouse. She didn't see anything out the window as she approached, or anything through the peephole as she looked through it.

Opening the door a crack, Gwen glanced around warily, but the street was deserted. All she saw was an envelope on the doorstep. Opening the door further, Gwen glanced all around, ready to react in case someone attacked, but nothing happened. Finally, she picked up the envelope, which was addressed to her. Turning it over, Gwen couldn't see anything unusual about it, so she opened it up.

The enveloped contained a single sheet of paper that read:

come to this place

we'll settle everything up

see you soon spider-woman

There was an address printed below the note, likely where Gwen's mysterious stalker wanted to meet her. Gwen knew it was likely the same person who'd sent her the previous notes, since all the handwriting was the same.

Her eyes narrowing in rage, Gwen walked upstairs to where she'd left her tote bag.

The industrial park Spider-Woman landed in looked deserted. Indeed, it seemed as though no one had been there in months, having shut down ever since last year's economic crash. Glancing around warily, Spider-Woman tried to stay out of sight as she walked towards the large abandoned garment factory her stalker's note directed her to.

She soon realized there likely wasn't any point in it. She felt as though she was being watched, as if whoever invited her here knew exactly where she was. Walking out from behind the pile of broken wood and metal pipes she was hiding behind, Spider-Woman walked openly towards the garment factory.

She heard skittering behind her, and then a sudden loud crash that broke through the silence. Whirling around in alarm, her hands glowing with the energy of her sting blasts, Spider-Woman saw that some of the pipes had merely fallen to the ground after the lumber shifted. The wind suddenly seemed to shift, as Spider-Woman heard what seemed like a vague scream for help.

Spider-Woman glanced from side to side as she continued towards the factory, expecting an attack from any direction. She didn't dare let her guard down, and her mind raced as she tried to consider who could have lured her here.

Could it be Jack O'Lantern? Spider-Woman thought, recalling her conversation with Peter. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. She froze in place, quaking involuntarily at the thought of dealing with Jack O' Lantern again.

Of all her supervillain enemies, Jack O' Lantern was probably the one that truly frightened her. He was the first one of her enemies to discover her secret identity, and she never figured out how he did it. Worse than that was what Jack had done to her the last time they'd fought. He'd tried to make her into his supervillain heir, drugging her with a powerful hallucinogen that nearly destroyed her mind and left her vulnerable to Jack's manipulations. Even after Spider-Woman overcame Jack's efforts to brainwash her, he'd nearly killed her in their ensuing fight.

Taking several deep breaths, Spider-Woman forced herself to calm down. She was about to resume her walk towards the factory when she heard the faint sound of music coming from the factory. Listening carefully, Spider-Woman could swear she'd heard the music before. It seemed to almost be coming from a...

...calliope?

Of course, Spider-Woman thought, as she suddenly recognized the melody as Entry Of The Gladiators, a popular circus theme. I should have known they'd do something like this.

While Jack O' Lantern terrified Spider-Woman more than any of her other enemies, the Brothers Grimm disturbed her almost as much as Jack did. They constantly kidnapped people and forced them to watch the bizarre performances he staged with the strange creatures they seemed to conjure out of nowhere. Spider-Woman never understood how the Brothers were able to do it, wondering if they had actual magical powers similar to her friend Tarot's.

Spider-Woman did her best to keep her anxiety under control as she reached the garment factory. The building was badly worn, the brickwork chipped and failing, the windows cracked and broken and the doors hanging loosely. Despite the factory's decay, one truck bay opened for Spider-Woman as if by magic.

Spider-Woman wondered if that was exactly what it was, as she stepped into the factory.

The factory's interior was as run down as its outside, but the light that clicked on above Spider-Woman's head seemed to work just fine. Several more lights lit up one after another, creating a trail that led deeper into the factory.

Spider-Woman looked from side to side, not taking any steps at first. She doubted the Brothers would try to ambush her, knowing that they always loved to make an entrance, but she knew she was probably walking into a trap. Spider-Woman considered sneaking off into the darkness and trying to find some other route to the Brothers Grimm, but she dismissed that idea. The Brothers might have taken some hostages to force Spider-Woman to do what they said. They'd done it before, and threatened to murder the hostages if Spider-Woman didn't obey them. She doubted they'd react any better to someone going 'off-script' now.

Following the trail of the lights, Spider-Woman was surprised to see a single man tied to one of the pillars in the centre of the factory. She started to go to him, but she suddenly stopped short, wary of any traps. Glancing around again, she didn't see anything, and turned her attention back to the man tied to the pillar.

Spider-Woman's eyes widened as she recognized him. He was the older brother of the fat slob who'd forcibly kissed her at the New York Comic Con several weeks ago, and who'd participated in Supercharger's murder conspiracy. Spider-Woman saw him at the trial when she'd testified against his younger brother. She couldn't imagine what the man was doing here, but she knew he was the Brothers' prisoner. His bindings were the golden straw and beanstalks she'd seen the Brothers Grimm use to bind other people.

The man's eyes widened as he noticed Spider-Woman, and he struggled to break free. He opened his mouth to say something, but to Spider-Woman's surprise it was filled with some kind of dough-like goo. The man gestured with his head, as if attempting to spit it out, but his efforts were futile.

Spider-Woman advanced on the man, intending to free him from his bindings, but she was forced to stop as a pair of small figures emerged from the shadows behind the man. They leaped up on his shoulders, and Spider-Woman saw they were jester-like marionettes, walking as if controlled by some invisible puppetmaster. More worryingly, Spider-Woman saw that the marionettes were carrying executioner's axes in their hands, and they held the blades against the man's neck.

"There, that's good," Spider-Woman heard an all too familiar voice say as she stopped in place.

"Up here, my dear," the voice said again as a light clicked on a raised platform off to Spider-Woman's left. Looking that way, Spider-Woman saw the Brothers Grimm sitting in a large worn chair. Their arms were crossed and they had one leg posed over the other, seeming to smile behind their harlequin mask as they looked down at Spider-Woman.

"What's the performance this time?" Spider-Woman demanded, clenching her fists. They glowed with the energy of her sting blasts, but she didn't dare move until she knew what the Brothers were planning.

"Performance art, child," the Brothers said in their Barton voice, retaining his calm, businesslike position. "We've grown tired of the stage, and we decided to explore other artistic avenues. Surely you haven't heard of our budding art career?"

Spider-Woman paled at the Brothers' words. With everything she'd dealt with over the last few weeks, ranging from her battles with Firebrand and Supercharger to testifying at their criminal trials to taking on modeling jobs to keeping up with her social media, Spider-Woman hadn't had much time to focus on anything else. She felt a sickening feeling rise up in her stomach at the thought of what the Brothers did, and that she could have prevented.

"Too caught up in the zeitgeist, were we?" the Brothers said in their Percy voice, before tsking his disapproval of her. "I suppose I might have known."

"And that, of course, is exactly the reason we began this art project in the first place," Barton added, as the Brothers nodded sagely.

"What do you mean?" Spider-Woman asked.

"We mean that you're living proof of the rot and corruption at the heart of it all," Barton said, as the Brothers stood up. "The metaphors we created with our previous pieces symbolized the conventions that are causing the slow death of society."

"...Pieces?" Spider-Woman said, before she realized what the Brothers were getting at.

"Use your imagination, if you even can," Barton said, sneering behind the Brothers' mask. "Death by a thousand cuts. Rotting your brain. A pound of flesh. A cold heart. The weight of the world on your shoulders."

Spider-Woman shuddered in horror, as the sickening feeling in her stomach grew worse. She felt a terrible wave of shame, wondering how many people might still be alive if she'd done something to stop the Brothers Grimm sooner.

"As we said, you're a perfect example of the rot and corruption," Percy said. "You were too busy living your own selfish life to try and stop us. You showed why it all needs to burn."

"What..." Spider-Woman trailed off, before she took a few deep breaths and forced herself to start again.

"What about him?" Spider-Woman said, gesturing with her head towards the man tied to the pillar. "Is he your next...'piece'?" she forced herself to say despite her mounting fury and guilt.

"More of a preliminary sketch, so to speak," Barton said. "He's the fellow who offered to tell me who you really are behind that mask of yours."

Spider-Woman felt her blood run cold.

"You know-" she said, before the Brothers interrupted her.

"Who do you think we are?" Percy said, offended. "The likes of Supercharger? Joystick? Firebrand? Knowing that would irrevocably taint our latest piece!"

"Who..." Spider-Woman started to say, before realizing she needn't have bothered.

"You, of course," Barton said, smirking behind his mask. "You carry a special spark inside you, and you let it be corrupted. All that potential you let go to waste, when you could be using it to burn this whole sick system down with us. You represent how everything's gone wrong!"

"You're even crazier than I thought if you think I'll let-" Spider-Woman said, her eyes flicking back and forth between the Brothers Grimm and the man tied to the pillar. To her horror, she saw the marionettes sitting on the man's shoulders chop their axes deep into his throat. A fountain of blood erupted from his neck as he fell dead. His body suddenly relaxed, held in place only by the Brothers' straw and beanstalks.

Spider-Woman stared in horror at the suddenly dead man, before she turned back to look at the Brothers Grimm. With a scream of rage, she leapt up at the platform towards the Brothers Grimm. As she jumped, the Brothers conjured a large five-pointed star, which flew up into the air. The Brothers leaped after it, landing on a swing hanging from the star's lower points. The Brothers cast a wave of glittering dust at Spider-Woman as she reached the platform, which caused her to sneeze and cough violently, falling to her knees.

Laughing maniacally, the Brothers Grimm began circling in the air above Spider-Woman, tossing a flurry of crescent moon-shaped blades that cut her in several places. Crying out again, Spider-Woman rolled out of the way of the Brothers' last crescent, retaliating with a double sting blast that forced them to let up their attack. As they dodged Spider-Woman's blasts, they threw a small handful of seeds that exploded into an entangling net of beanstalks at her. Struggling to restrain her coughing, Spider-Woman sprayed a wide net of webbing that entangled the beanstalks. Spinning around to add strength to her throw, Spider-Woman sent the mass of webbing and plants back at the Brothers. The large mass was too wide for the Brothers to quickly dodge, and it caught their star full on, shattering it.

Cursing as they fell, the Brothers conjured a flying carpet to support them. They began hurling oversized meat cleavers at Spider-Woman, who blocked them with a shield of webbing. Leaping into the air and shooting a webline with her free hand, Spider-Woman swung at the Brothers and hurled her web shield at them. The Brothers had to let up their attacks to dodge the hurled mass, and Spider-Woman took advantage of it to blast both the Brothers and their carpet with sting blasts. The Brothers started to fall, but then they conjured an umbrella with black and white spiral stripes. The umbrella slowed their fall, allowing them to slice through Spider-Woman's webline with a bladed yo-yo.

As Spider-Woman fell, she turned to land on her hands and roll to absorb the shock, before she came up unharmed. The Brothers Grimm landed at the same time, dismissing their umbrella before they turned to face Spider-Woman.

Spider-Woman fought to keep her mounting rage under her control. She wasn't sure whether she was more upset by what the Brothers Grimm did to their victims, or the fact that she hadn't noticed anything about them or tried to stop him. Shaking her head, she tried to ignore the churning pain in her stomach and the guilt that came with it, but she was fighting a losing battle.

As skilled an actress as Spider-Woman was, she couldn't completely conceal her inner turmoil. It showed clear as day to the Brothers Grimm, who laughed at her distress.

"Really, you should be thanking us," Barton said with a smile. "Your secret's safe again, after all."

Spider-Woman didn't say anything. Instead, she simply shot a double blast of webbing at the Brothers Grimm. The Brothers retaliated by conjuring an Easter egg and throwing it at Spider-Woman's weblines. The egg exploded, releasing a sparkling dust that caused the webbing to collapse into dust. The Brothers followed up by throwing a second Easter egg, one that exploded into a thick grey fog. Blinded by the fog, Spider-Woman spun in place, expecting an attack from any direction.

"Your secret's safe!" Spider-Woman heard the Brothers say from behind her.

She turned around and fired a sting blast, but all she heard was a distant crash as the blast hit a far wall.

"Your secret's safe!" she heard the Brothers say from her left.

Again, Spider-Woman fired a sting blast, and again she heard nothing except a distant crash.

Now, Spider-Woman heard the words coming from every direction, interspersed with a ghoulish laughter.

Spider-Woman began shaking violently, as she tried to fight a rising sense of panic. She didn't know where the Brothers' next attack would come from, and she kept thinking of how many deaths she could have prevented.

I could have stopped all this... Spider-Woman thought to herself, before she shook her head.

That's just what the Brothers want you to think, she reminded herself, as she struggled to keep control. They're no better than Jack O' Lantern...

...and he was wrong about you too.

Spider-Woman suddenly screamed and fired her sting blasts and weblines in random directions, before she fell to her knees. Holding her head in her hands, she gasped and began to cry, struggling to hold back her tears as the fog began to clear around her.

The Brothers Grimm came up to her from the right, surrounded by a collection of walking toy teddy bears. The bears laughed and repeated their mocking phrases, showing Spider-Woman how the Brothers Grimm had made the sounds come from all around her. In the back of her mind, she realized that everything from the trail of lights to the calliope music to the crash that had startled her outside the garment factory were probably caused by more of the Brothers' bizarre creations.

"How does it feel?" Barton asked Spider-Woman, who sank to her hands and knees. "Painful? Triggering? I suppose it comes with learning your whole life was a waste. That's what we were getting at all along-you're just like the rest of this sick, miserable world. And that's what makes you perfect for our latest piece," he finished, as an axe-wielding marionette appeared in each of his hands.

"You just show the failure of-"

"SHUT UP!" Spider-Woman said as she suddenly sprang up and viciously punched the Brothers Grimm in the face. They staggered back from the blow, briefly unable to react, before the marionettes leaped at Spider-Woman. They each cut one of her arms, before she caught them both and threw them into the air before destroying them with her sting blasts. The Brothers Grimm threw another Easter egg at Spider-Woman, but she caught it with a webline and slung it back at him. The Brothers Grimm scrambled to avoid the egg, which exploded in a ball of flame. Before they could get to their feet, Spider-Woman entangled them with her webbing and staggered them with a sting blast. Reeling from the blow, the Brothers Grimm couldn't defend themselves as Spider-Woman picked them up and punched them a second time, knocking them out cold.

Webbing the Brothers Grimm up, Spider-Woman dragged them around with her as she searched for their living quarters. It didn't take her long to find the office the Brothers used as a bedroom, or the smartphone they used to communicate with the outside world when they needed to.

Telephoning the police, Spider-Woman dragged the unconscious Brothers back to where they'd tied the now dead man to the pillar. The man's body was slumped on the ground, as the beanstalks and golden straw that held him in place vanished with the Brothers' collapse.

Spider-Woman felt like she wanted to vomit when she saw his body, surrounded by a pool of its own blood. She wondered what the Brothers did to the rest of their victims, and suddenly began shaking all over.

She knew she shouldn't look up what the Brothers Grimm did to all their other victims, but she also knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from doing so when she got home.

(Next Issue: Gwen struggles with her guilt at not realizing what the Brothers Grimm was up to before he murdered her victims, but things begin to look up for her career when she lucks out after a particularly good audition. She finds that she can't rest as Spider-Woman, though, when the Chameleon starts his plan to murder his crimelord rivals, and she's forced to fight for her life against the hired killer Boomerang! All this and more in Spider-Woman #102: All The World's A Stage!)