"Shows over."

Spite wasn't something that came easy to her, which wasn't that surprising considering she'd never really felt enough anger to spite someone, it wasn't the same as grief, as boredom, as sadness, it was blistering hot and almost unbearable as it festered inside her like rot. But Erika knew that she needed that spite, that wrath to keep one foot in front of the other, to keep her sanity in tact, to keep her from crying, from screaming, from inviting the world to finally take her willing soul and succumb to her grief stricken state that always haunted her like a melancholy ghost.

She was sick of being sad, of feeling so completely and utterly overwhelmed by everything and anything, constantly on the edge of a tightrope and never knowing which way was up or down, just not wanting to fall or float into the abyss of darkness and become numb. It was a fate worse than death, that much she did know, years of therapy, of self-help books and doctors appointments and other such things only trying to help her along, to swallow her grief and move on to simply live, become close to someone again, or just even attempt to try but she couldn't, well, she thought she couldn't anyway.

But holding onto spite was harder than it seemed, and sometimes she felt like she was just going through the motions as she cursed the so called hero constantly, his name a vile and poisonous thing on her lips...until she thought back to the broken pieces of the one thing she'd had left of the only love she'd ever felt, and then it wasn't as hard anymore.

It had been a few days since the incident, since she'd lost the familar weight of her camera heavy in her hands like a burden she had to bear, and to see Erika was in self destruct mode was the understatement of the century. Her words spat out with more venom than usual wherever she went, waiting for someone to finally snap and hurt her, refusing to do any school work, any home work either and being nothing short of cruel when confronted, hiding away in her bedroom blasting music to hide the way her whole body would tremble with muffled sobs as she desperately tried not to think about the fact her mother is now gone and she was more alone than she'd ever been.

And it was for that reason alone that she was trying to avoid Peter, knowing that even on the depths of her own destruction she didn't want to hurt him, to guide the distance between then that was there through her own violation, to lessen the blinding sun he called a smile, to have him look at her like everyone else looked at her like she was a disease to avoid to not be sucked into her overwhelming mess. However, that was harder than it appeared to be because he seemed to be sticking to her like glue, diffusing the situations she'd force herself into, calming her rage, keeping her sane when she didn't want to be.

"Okay- thank you, have a nice day! You're the best! You're amazing!- you're beautiful-"

Which of course, brought her to now, with Peter's arm around her shoulders, pulling her away from a scoffing member of the student body who'd looked mere moments away from taking a swing a few minute ago because of her vile venom that had been spat through trembling lips about the stupid bastard seemingly mixing up his mouthwash with cat piss as he stood next to her locker and just breathed all over it and encased it with his stench, something he obviously hadn't appreciated if the way his face had blossomed red and he was all too quick to step into her personal space with the stronger desire for violence.

Apparently not quite realising that Erika was simply looking for an excuse to get her hands bloody, falling into the dark abyss that was once her fathers rage, the last thing she truly had that was theirs as it curled along her tongue, sinking into her veins like an embrace, the type of which she could no longer feel against her bruised skin that trembled with barely concealed fury that consumed her so completely she could barely even remember who she was before such emotions enslaved her.

But of course, ever her hero, Peter had swooped in like he'd somehow sensed her desire for her own self destruction from across the other end of the school, somehow crossing the distance faster than any human was capable of and was soon there to dip into the tiny space that had been between Erika and the future victim of her hatred, pushing her behind himself until she couldn't be seen over his lanky frame, and his puppy dog eyes holding a certain kind of dangerous warning aimed at the boy while his voice was nothing short of friendly and warm, diffusing the tension with some talk of nonsense until eventually they'd stormed off and left them alone.

"I had it handled, twinkle-toes. Don't you have anything better to do?" She snapped, shrugging herself away from his hold and clenching her hands into fists until she feared they were going to break, desperately counting to ten in the hopes she could calm herself down before she truly said something she'd regret. It had been like this ever since she'd allowed hatred to blister over grief, it's like he didn't dare leave her alone for longer than five minutes in fear she'd start a fight she couldn't win...which she supposed, technically, that fear was rather warranted, not that she was going to admit that aloud.

"You mean other than stopping you from getting yourself punched? Oh no, this is uh, this is my favourite part of the day. So much fun." Peter said, smiling thinly with no real amusement in it, looking all sorts of exhausted with dark bags under his eyes and a healing yellowish bruise scattered over his cheekbone that he'd instantly waved away when she expressed just the slightest amount of concern about it...which also pissed her off with some indescribable rage because heaven forbid she ask him questions about his own life the fucking hypocrite.

"Do you want to get off my back? Go get a hobby or something."

There was a second in which the Parker boy seemed to freeze, staring at the back of her head in indignation, before he threw his arms in the air and hurried after her as she kicked the school doors open, keen on getting the hell away from the shithole and into her bedroom where she could ignore the rest of the world for the weekend, safe under the cover of her blankets where no one would see her succumb to her devastating emotions that had been cursed with grief, trying her hardest to ignore him as he glared down at her furiously. "Off your back, you want me to get off your back?- I'm the only reason you don't have someone on your back! Seriously, what is going on with you?"

And then, the rage that had been boiling inside her like an inferno, a volcano awaiting to erupt and burn the whole world in its wake finally exploded like a bomb as Erika spun on her heel and faced him with her vision blurred with unurshed tears. "Fucking hell, does something have to be wrong with me? Huh? Maybe it's everyone else's fault, maybe they are the ones with the problems and maybe they can't be fixed! So why don't you stop fucking trying."

Stop trying, please stop trying, I can't be fixed, I'll never be fixed because mourning has made me a violent monster, I'll never smile like it's easy, I'll never love you the way you deserve, I don't want your friendship I want your heart and pretending I don't is tearing me apart, the world has changed for me because you are made from the sun and molted gold, the curve of your lips rewrote history the moment they murmured my name, this isn't something to be fixed, love me, love me. Her chest heaved, burdened with her empty words that built on her tongue, the things she couldn't say but wanted desperately to, always on the verge of spilling out like blood.

Fucking hell she was going to start crying, she could feel that familar ache in her throat, the way her bottom lip wobbled, the way her mouth filled with bile and the way her shoulders seemed to cave in like the weight of her own sadness was placed upon them like a physical force. And it seemed that Peter was able to see that too as he risked a step forward, hands clenching by his side as if he didn't know quite what to do with them before he placed them upon her forearms, bowing his head just slightly so he could stare into her eyes ever so gently, holding her there like she was something precious and Oh so very breakable.

"Hey, come on, look at me- hey. Tell me what's going on and we'll sort it, me and you, yeah? We're a dynamic duo, remember?"

But Erika didn't want it to be sorted, she didn't want to be fixed, she just wanted to be angry and looked at as though she wasn't crazy because how dare a woman become a slave to her emotions and wish to wreak havoc on the world instead of healing it...so, she did what she did best, she pulled away, placed a distance between them that wasn't just physical, and allowed her hatred to overwhelm her as she spat and cursed and raged. "Oh really, you want to help me so much? Why don't you go shoot Spiderman or something."

"Wait, hey- this is about Spiderman? Again? Seriously, what did he do this time? Did he get a kitten out of a tree and make you late for school or something?" There was a certain contempt in his voice, a certain frustration that had festered inside him, building up with every day that she cursed the hero and complained about him, never looking past her own resentment, never seeing the way his face would drop as she'd go on and on about how he'd never be good enough, and that all he was doing was playing make believe because the world would always find a way to be cruel and to take what it was owed like an old god hunting for blood.

However, as always, Erika didn't see his point of view, didn't see the damage she'd emitted with trembling hands stained with sin and bloodied knuckles, because all she could think about was the broken pieces of her love, of her everything on her beside table, her last thread of humanity cut loose with shattered promises and cracked lenses with only one person at fault. "Fuck off, Peter. And Spiderman can fuck off too for all I care, hope he throws up in that stupid mask and chokes on it. He's a fucking problem! He broke my fucking camera, he's a menace! He's-"

Their argument was attracting stares, they could see them all of of the corner of their eyes, nosy members of the student body always waiting for a chance to sink their hooks into gossip, even albeit from the weird kid and the nerd as they walked out of the school with their gazes lingering at where the two stood just towards one of the benches under a large tree, straining their ears to pick up something from the strangely quiet shouting match that was getting more and more insense by the moment as the wind began to howl, blowing all sorts of litter across the grounds and brushing over their legs.

But neither of them seemed to care, seemed to spare then a second glance as Peter Parker of all people finally ran out of patience as he interrupted her with a breathless laugh that was nothing short of humourless. "He broke your camera? Wow, wow, he uh- he broke your camera so you act like the whole world is ending, are you really that narrow-minded and materialistic? You know it gets draining having to listen to you complain about him constantly-"

"Go fuck yourself, asshole. How'd you like that one? Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off-"

"Fine! Fine, you know what, you got your wish. Walk yourself home, I'm done- I don't care anymore, alright? Don't come crying to me when someone gets sick of your crap."

She watched him walk away, running his hand through his hair, long fingers clenched over his skateboard until she could see the tendon stretching with tension, and it wasn't until that he was finally out of view that her scowl dropped and allowed her devastation to be out in the open, her rage always having no choice but to lift her up, make her walk, make her run...because if it didn't, she'd have no choice but to fall into the void of grief and never get back up...and she couldn't let that happen ever again as she turned around to see the various eyes watching her, the bomb always on the edge of blowing up.

"What are you looking at, assholes? Shows over."
______________________________________________

With every step Erika took on the crooked sidewalk, she couldn't help but feel like her trembling legs were going to somehow just simply crumble underneath her and send her sprawling across the earth that had once birthed her, the vision of split knees and bloodied skin wreaking havoc on her mind as the pathetic tears kept slipping down the ever sharp contours of her face. She'd started crying the second she'd made it around the first street, her eyes aching and throat feeling like sandpaper as she swallowed her every desire to apologise and just focusing on keeping one foot in front of the other.

But now she just couldn't stop crying, like a dam had been broke once more with the plastered over cracks too weak to hold back the flood and drowning out her every attempt at composure and leaving misery in its wake. She couldn't even stop her fucking shaking as her emotions overwhelmed her and filled her with awful agony that was constantly brimming on the edge of her unconscious, always on the verge of always feeling too much or not enough and both sides just sending her into a spiral of devastation.

She hadn't meant to start the argument with Peter, of course she hadn't, of all the people she'd wanted a fight with he was the last person on that list...and yet he'd been the one who'd bitten the bait, who'd been sucked into the black hole that was her rage, who'd had to put up with her cruelty until his patience had finally snapped. She couldn't blame him, honestly she couldn't, but that didn't stop the hurt as his face kept searing into her minds eye, that almost disgusted look on his twisted features as he spat I don't care anymore...because that's what Erika did best, fuck everything up.

"Fuck." The word pretty much summed everything up as she whispered it miserably, wishing that she hadn't taught herself to repay love with cruelty, kindness with venom, basic human decency with cold indifference and twisted desires.

The wind was howling loudly, the skies a dull and rather depressing grey above her like it was tempting the gods for thunder and lightning as she walked along, barely even a soul around her in the lonely streets that felt like they belonged to some dystopian fantasy and not the usual hustle and bustle of New York, the city that never slept. It was strangely ominous, almost eerie, Erika thought to herself as her dark eyes began to linger around suspiciously, pulling her jacket over herself tighter as the cold embrace of icy air blew across her fragile skin to make it blister and ache, pushing herself to move that much faster as something vile curled in her stomach.

Silence wasn't exactly something she was used to, not here, never here actually...and soon, she found the tears that had once blurred her vision stopping in their tracks as fear took its place and made her start to sweat. There was a foreboding in the air, something that she'd become rather sensitive too as she picked up the pace even more, her breath coming out in sharp little whimpers as her footsteps echoed through the quiet...and then, something yanked on the back of her hood, pulling her into the darkness of an alleyway as she cried out, only to have something warm and greasy slap over her mouth to muffle it.

Panic began to claw at her, a sickening feeling that hooked into her skin and pulled it in all directions, leaving her feeling naked and uncouth for the whole world to laugh at like a butchered carcass as she desperately struggled against the arms holding her down, pinning her to the body behind her that kept pulling her further and further into the darkness where no one would see her ruination, biting at the hand with bloodied teeth and trembling limbs that refused to cooperate and fucking fight back.

In situations such as these, it's always easy to believe that you'd be heroic, that you'd throw a punch, that you'd get away from the vile monster trying to maim you in anyway they could. But the truth of the matter was, sometimes, there was nothing not fear instead of courage lacing through your veins and sending you comatose...and unfortunately, Erika had never felt a terror like this as she shut down, her eyes moving around frantically with a scream trapped in her throat as hands that weren't her own began to roam over her body, something sharp trailing over her skin and digging into her abdomen as blood began to swell.

"You're going to be quiet for me, aren't you, princess? I'd hate to have to get your pretty little shirt all dirty."

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, the words were agonising, dying upon her tongue as she grunted and swallowed thickly, her every breath a wasted gasp of air, shivering in absolute disgust as his warm breath brushed over her cheek like a mocking caress and the blade he held against her threateningly uncouth and almost patronising as it danced over the fragile flesh. She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout, she wanted to just fucking do something as everything inside her went as cold as ice, freezing her in place, even as he flipped her around and pinned her to the rough wall behind that was hard and aching.

"Yeah, yeah that's a good girl." He snarled, his vile being roaming everywhere over her like an insect, digging his nails into her skin, pushing her further and further along the edge of insanity with his knife pressed right there against her...and it was only when she felt his disgusting hands slipping in to the front of her pants that something inside her snapped...and she lunged forward, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and biting down hard until something gave and his blood began to pour down his chin as she spat his lump of flesh back into his face with a loud scream that rattled her own ears.

"You stupid cunt!"

And then there was pain, agonising as something sharp bit into her skin, slicing the muscle it found underneath and sinking into something that pushed the breath out of her chest like a punch as her eyes went wide. She knew what had happened, in the back of her mind there was only one thing that could of brought such devastation, but when her gaze drifted downwards, it was still something startling to see the blade plunged into her stomach all the way to the hilt held in the tattooed hand, pushing it further and further in as her mouth hung open in a breathless gasp...before it was ripped out, and she was brought to her knees as her legs gave way.

She heard his footsteps running away from her, echoing around the alley and bouncing off the walls as she heaved, trembling palms cupping her stomach, feeling thick clumps of blood seeping through the gaps of her fingers like a river running dry of mortality, a void of nothingness, of emptiness as her unseeing eyes stared up at the sky with an awful sort of shock striking her numb with the taste of rust and copper heavy on her tongue like a prayer and her lungs filled with ash. Moments passed that felt like hours, trying to move, trying to live as her lips formed the word help over and over, no louder than a whimper, never louder than a whimper as her vision blurred.

Death was consuming, was overpowering, was ever patient as it sat with her, it's bones dancing over her soul, never quite catching, but getting closer and closer every time her gaze fluttered shut, desperate to rest, desperate for peace, desperate for a break from the despair and agony of her gaping and grotesque wound of where the blade had kissed her organs to be ripped open and found unsightly, just waiting and waiting and waiting for time to do its job for it.

"Please- please. I don't want to go, I- I don't want to die." Erika finally whispered thickly, weakly, her face twisted into a terrified grimace as she sobbed, voice no louder than a whisper as it danced through the night, not knowing who she was whispering too, not when there wasn't a soul around to hear her. She didn't want to die, not when things were almost starting to get easier, not when she was finding beauty in the world once more...but most of all, she didn't want to die alone...but that was the way her story was going to end, because no one was coming...so consumed by fear, that she didn't see something black and gooey coming out from the shadows and seeping into the skin of her back sickeningly slow.

Because she was far too busy choking on her own helpless cries with bloodstained teeth and a bleeding heart full of broken dreams...and so, she closed her eyes and felt her breath falter, her soul shattering inside her prison of flesh, her light snuffed out and life stolen by greedy hands condemned with sin, nothing more than a half remembered tragedy that fate had conspired against since the moment of her birth as she withered and burned and died in the quiet of the night with nothing but the stars to bare witness, her only future now to be a rotting carcass found by uneasy eyes that would be haunted by her corpse for years to come.

It was on a Friday, consumed by rage and death, that Erika Brock died on the last night she was ever alone in a dark alleyway, her vision stained with her ghosts and memories of old as she finally, finally succumbed to the reaper that had been creeping closer every year she didn't fall into the abyss of her grief...only, she didn't die that night, not exactly, not completely, not at all...because when she closed her eyes...something else opened them...something hungry, something ravenous and ripe for anarchy...something that was nothing short of VENEMOUS as she screamed into the darkness and made the whole world shake.

Because in the end...fate decided to make girls deadly when they made monsters of men.