Ultimate Spider-Woman: Change With the Light

Chapter 50: Firing Line

Gwen Stacy yawned as she woke up, rubbing her eyes and brushing back her long, blonde hair. Last night's sleep had been better, but only slightly, than the last several nights.

Jack O' Lantern, her worst enemy, had struck again last night, somehow managing to enter her house, her bedroom, and leave behind a twisted jack-in-the-box taunting her with the fact that he somehow knew where she was. It was just the latest part of Jack O' Lantern's harassment of her, harassment that was causing Gwen painful stress during the day and giving her horrible nightmares at night. It had begun with a disturbing phone call from Jack, letting her know that he was out there and that he knew where she was. That knowledge had kept Gwen on edge, constantly worrying about her friends and family, knowing that Jack O' Lantern could potentially strike at any of them.

Had anyone else been doing it, Gwen would have gone to the police long ago. However, her secret identity as the superheroic Spider-Woman kept her from doing so. The last thing she wanted was for the police or anyone else to figure out her secret identity from investigating Jack's harassment campaign. That fact made it all the more infuriating to Gwen, and the fact that Jack O' Lantern knew the fact and was milking it for all it was worth angered her even more.

Still, Gwen's sleep last night had still been better than before, because of her mother Helen's words. Helen had reassured Gwen that what her supervillain enemies did wasn't her fault, and emphatically reminded her of all the successes she'd had as a superheroine, even as she'd dwelled on her failures.

Helen's support was what had helped Gwen keep get her stress under control, and what allowed her to keep going, following her normal routine, even as her insides churned at the thought of Jack O' Lantern somehow being able to get into her house.

SPIDER-WOMAN #50

"FIRING LINE"

"Is that all of it, then?" Gary Broxtel asked his board of directors, as they all nodded.

"Alright, then this meeting is adjourned," he said calmly, closing up his computer and putting it back in his briefcase as the other executives did the same. Gary's voice was flat and calm, the voice of a man who was known for his stoicism. His somber demeanor and dark suits combined with the dead look in his eyes to make him look cold and aloof, and while he was never anything but civil to the people who worked under him, the fact that he was strictly business at the office and never made small talk meant that few people had any affection for him.

As head of Broxsteel, one of America's major steel companies, Gary Broxtel had few friends. He was also largely unknown to the public, unlike more dynamic and outgoing executives like Tony Stark, Bill Gates, Kyle Richmond or Steve Jobs, and rarely even fraternized with others of his social class. That tendency had greatly increased over the past year or so, as he'd become almost a total recluse. He and his wife Catherine now spent almost all their time at their posh Upper East Side brownstone, emerging only for work.

Gary managed to keep up his calm façade on the drive home up until he was safely back home behind closed doors. His demeanor changed dramatically as he took off his coat and shoes, his voice cracking as he gave a long, weary sigh. He seemed to age twenty years all at once, as his formerly confident walk became a tired, stumbling limp. Gary glanced at himself in the mirror as he passed by it on the way to the living room, realizing that he probably needed a new type of hair dye-even after he'd begun increasing the amount of this one, there was still too much gray showing for his liking.

Waiting for Gary in the living room was a dark-haired woman about his age, whose pale complexion, careworn face, and graying hair matched his own. Like Gary, she was impeccably dressed, although she also looked as cold and austere as he did. When she spoke, it was with a slow, painful manner that spoke of her having endured a recent trauma.