The gathering began when a purple motorcycle pulled to a stop before one of the fountains and the woman seated upon it swung a shapely leg over the saddle to stand beside the bike. The rider wore a skintight purple bodysuit with matching boots and gloves. A purple cowl with faux pointed ears covered her head as lush, red hair spilled from behind it above a gold and purple cape draping her shoulders and hanging against her back. A golden bat was depicted with spread wings across her chest and a matching belt with a second bat pictured on the buckle encircled her waist. She was Batgirl, Gotham City’s Dark Angel, equally capable of delivering mercy or vengeance, depending upon what circumstances she encountered.

“Okay,” Batgirl murmured. Her gaze swept her surroundings as her hands settled briefly on her shapely hips. Seeing nothing, she folded her arms and leaned her backside against her motorcycle. Frowning, she inhaled the unmistakable scent of impending rain. After a long moment, she loudly announced, “I’m here!”

“Thank you for coming,” a familiar, female voice said. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

Batgirl whirled, pulling a Batarang from her belt and stepping away from her vehicle to balance on the balls of her feet. She was ready for action as another woman stepped from the interior of a fountain holding her arms up and well away from her body. The second woman’s hands were empty.

“I’m honestly a little surprised you really are alone,” Batgirl said, feeling her muscles tighten.

“I can’t say I blame you,” the other woman replied. She stood still in a street lamp’s light. Water droplets streamed along the black wetsuit molded against her body, shimmering slightly. The speaker tossed her head, shifting flowing curls of black hair slightly as they cascaded behind her shoulders. Then, she smiled and went on, “Of course, you well know if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t need help, but I also would never have called you first.”

The two women were hardly strangers, having faced each other repeatedly for nearly a decade. The brunette had come to Gotham City to make herself available as an "escort" for the city's stable of arch-criminals. Her beauty and taste for kinky, psychotic employers quickly made her popular, despite her high rates, and she established her reputation as a henchwoman who would do nearly anything for practically anyone. Trained in martial arts; lock-picking; and computer hacking, she was much more capable than many of her paying "friends" realized. She was known as Vixen, and Batgirl had determined she knew more about the strengths and weaknesses of most super-villains than even their mothers, former cell-mates, or psychoanalysts would ever dare guess. The expensive, well-connected call girl also possessed a chameleon-like quality, having been a blonde for many years.

While Batgirl and Vixen respected one another, neither had won the other’s admiration.

“No,” Batgirl agreed. “Had you wanted to hurt me, you would have tried to pull a crime, waited for me to show up, and risked harming innocent people who would get caught in the proverbial crossfire instead of contacting me.”

Vixen smiled, chuckling. “Exactly, but I’ve done none of those things tonight,” she said.

“Your outfit demonstrates you’re unarmed,” Batgirl said.

“Unlike you,” Vixen said, lowering her hands and letting them settle onto her hips, matching Batgirl’s favored pose. “I can manage without weapons, if I must,’ she confidently said, stepping from the light like a living shadow.

Batgirl’s eyes followed her as she seemed to melt into a deep patch of darkness. “I have a question before we talk about what you want,” Batgirl said. “How did you find my number?”

“Catwoman told me. I’ve known how to reach you for awhile. Until tonight, I never had a reason.” Vixen explained, stepping into view beside Batgirl. The Curved Crusader knew the Feline Fiend had literally scratched the information from Batgirl’s friend, Lieutenant Diana Mooney. The Princess of Plunder was one of Vixen’s former employers.

“All right,” Batgirl said, after frowning once again and pivoting to face Vixen. “What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you, Batgirl,” Vixen explained. “I’m afraid a life may be at stake!”

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to simply make threats,” Batgirl said, stepping toward Vixen. The heroine’s voice grew soft and filled with menace. “I’m going to make it my business to make sure whomever you’ve kidnapped remains safe and that you, along with whomever you’re working for, are punished.”

“Wait!” Vixen said, defensively raising her arms again and turning her palms to face the heroine. “Relax, Batgirl! It isn’t anything like that at all! I really am here on my own. Please . . . let me explain.”

Batgirl stopped, put her Batarang away, stepped back, and regarded her enemy with her hands on her hips. Vixen had remained where she was since approaching her adversary.

“Go ahead and talk,” Batgirl said.

“I’m sure you remember the secret society of Catwoman’s most ardent admirers revealed to you last year.”

“I remember some of your ‘members’ lured me into the extensive catacombs beneath Gotham City, where you all planned to tear the limbs from my body with your bare hands.”

“Catwoman spared you an uncomfortable finish that night,” Vixen confirmed, nodding. “It was a historic occasion, to say the least.”

“Are we approaching a point?”

“Patience Phillips is part of that group and had a different view of Catwoman’s purpose than many of us.”

“Patience told me she felt Catwoman should fight crime.”

“Correct,” Vixen said. “Patience has been fighting crime quietly in Catwoman’s guise since before you met her.” Vixen paused and shrugged. “Anyway, most of the idiots she brings to justice don’t last long enough in crime to be considered career criminals. The cops would catch most of them eventually, but only after the morons established a pattern and maybe hurt people. Patience’s methods are efficient. You and your caped friends wouldn’t break a sweat dealing with most of the crooks she catches, but, in her own way, she helps out the good guys and leaves the real goodies for crooks with the capacity to plan their acquisition properly.”

“I get the idea,” Batgirl said. “Patience doesn’t step on the toes of anyone ‘important,’ so she is left alone.”

“She has also benefitted from her friendship with Catwoman,” Vixen revealed, waving a dismissive hand. “Anyway, I got a call from Patience last night. She said she had connected a series of robberies and planned to confront the perpetrators. She wanted someone competent to know her basic plans, in case things went badly. I told Patience I’d look into anything that happened to her if I didn’t hear from her. Well, I haven’t heard a word all day.”

“Why call me?” Batgirl asked.

“Patience drew on a few more of our private club’s resources for her adventure last night. She borrowed a pair of tiger cubs to use to distract her targets.”

“So, Patience took tigers with her to help fight crime?” Batgirl asked.

“I don’t think she normally needs such exotic help,” Vixen replied. “Apparently, yesterday she thought she did.”

“What do you know about these targets?” Batgirl asked.

“Nothing really,” Vixen admitted. “I wasn’t interested in what made Patience disappear until she disappeared. Since the cats vanished, too, I decided whatever Patience found was bigger and more dangerous than she had imagined. Now, if a big, dangerous criminal movement is growing in Gotham City, it should interest you.”

Batgirl favored her enemy with a thin smile. “You have your own vision of Gotham City’s future. I’d imagine a big, dangerous criminal movement is not part of the picture, unless of course, you pull the strings.”

“Just so,” Vixen confirmed, dipping her head. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I will pledge not to try to kill you until we’ve dealt with this rogue, criminal group together.” The call girl put out her hand.

“Why should I believe a word you say, Vixen?”

“I don’t know,” Vixen admitted, shrugging, “but as you said when you arrived, you’re here. My story is why I asked for this meeting. I’m honestly worried about Patience, and I trust you to try and save my butt if investigating her disappearance proves too much for me to handle myself.” Vixen paused. “I’ll do the same for you as long as our truce lasts. Besides, Batgirl, I know you. After you tell me to take a hike, if you do, nothing will stop you from checking out what I’m saying on your own. We’ll encounter one another later and waste time having this conversation again. Tonight, I’d rather fight bad guys than you.”

“It’s good of you to look into your friend’s disappearance,” Batgirl said, hesitantly extending her hand. “I’ll help, but the minute I discover you’re leading me into a trap or you turn on me--”

“Thank you, Batgirl,” Vixen said, shaking Batgirl’s hand. “I know we’ll get to the bottom of what happened to Patience, and put the situation to rights.”

“Spoken like a true crimefighter,” Batgirl replied, smiling. “I’ll keep your secret.”

Vixen let out a short, harsh laugh. “Thanks,” she said.

An Unlikely Alliance

“Let’s go back to the beginning of the story, so we’re on the same page when we go to work,” Batgirl suggested. “What exactly did Patience tell you last night?”

“Basically, she said she traced goods stolen at robberies around town to one location and she planned to check the place out,” Vixen said.

“Let’s dig into some of the details,” Batgirl suggested. “What exactly was stolen from whom?”

“I wasn’t really concerned about the details,” Vixen admitted. “I think she said she had been after these people for several months while they stole chemicals and samples from scientific research facilities.”

“Who was she after?” Batgirl wondered aloud.

“I’m not certain Patience really knew. She told me she once cornered someone at The Gotham Research Institute and got hit from behind while her captive was mumbling something about an inner circle. When Patience revived, she realized the man she had questioned had been tied against her back with thin, strong, threads. Unfortunately, Patience didn’t know her captors had looped the thread around the fellow’s throat so she would inadvertently strangle him to death when she moved.”

“It sounds like an effective warning,” Batgirl said. “Patience could have been killed, too, but the killers evidently wanted to send her a message while punishing her informer. Were there any other clues?”

“There was scented lipstick on the dead man’s cheek,” Vixen said. “It seems to me his killer was a woman and had let him know exactly how he would die before leaving him to his fate. To be really effective, she would have made all her minions aware of how the poor fellow would get it. The warning may have been intended for more than just Patience. You have to admire her efficiency, whoever she is.”

“If you say so,” Batgirl murmured, nodding. “So, we have a woman who arranged for someone Patience caught to be strangled with silken thread. This ruthless murderess has also stolen chemicals and scientific samples over a period of months. Could we be dealing with some kind of mad scientist? Both Doctor Cassandra and Doctor Liz Shaw are distinct possibilities. It could be Marsha, Queen of Diamonds’ Aunt Hilda, or, if she weren’t dead, I might suspect the Scarecrow.

“I don’t know,” Vixen answered. “I was only interested in where Patience went. I’d need to know the location in order to go after her.”

“Right,” Batgirl said, inhaling and letting out the air slowly. “Where did she go?”

“Patience said her destination was an old, frame house at 411 Lava Drive. I’m afraid that’s all I know.”

“I’d like to know more about what we’re facing, but since we don’t and Patience may need us, we’d better get moving,” Batgirl encouraged. “Besides, I think it’s going to rain.”

“I’ll ride with you,” Vixen said.

“Hop on,” Batgirl invited, mounting the Batgirlcycle. Before Batgirl’s vehicle roared to life, both women heard a thunderclap sound far away.

Shortly thereafter, Batgirl and Vixen pulled up in front of the old, frame house surrounded by a white, picket fence, where an elderly couple reclined in rocking chairs on the porch. “Did they fall asleep in those chairs?” Batgirl wondered aloud.

“Who cares?” responded Vixen. “We have someone to question about Patience now. Come on.”

Batgirl followed her companion to the porch and softly began, “Excuse me.”

The couple on the rocking chairs said nothing.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Batgirl said, more loudly.

Again, nothing happened.

“Hey, Gramps!” Vixen shouted into the old man’s ear, as she bent and reached out to touch his shoulder. The old man rocked more rapidly without responding. Vixen’s face wore a strange expression when she glanced at Batgirl. “They’re dummies,” she said, straightening. “Their faces are made of rubber.”

“I don’t like this situation at all,” Batgirl said.

“What’s wrong?” Vixen asked.

“This scene on the porch is meant to make this place look harmless. There is something on the tip of my mind . . . I just can’t remember.” Batgirl shook her head and shrugged.

“Maybe something inside will jog your memory,” Vixen encouraged, kicking in the front door.

“Why be subtle?” Batgirl muttered following the brunette. Their eyes adjusted to the gloom slowly as they moved through the deserted main floor of the house. “This is strange. There is absolutely nothing here.”

“Let’s check upstairs,” Vixen said, mounting the stairs. Suddenly, with a startled cry, she fell from Batgirl’s sight.

“Vixen!” Batgirl cried, stepping forward.

“I’m okay,” Vixen’s muffled voice said after a moment. “I can’t see a thing, but I can stand.”

“I think you fell through a trap door,” Batgirl said.

“Brilliant!” Vixen tartly replied. “I never would have guessed.”

Batgirl followed in her companion’s footsteps and suddenly retreated when the floor shifted beneath her, collapsing to open a square hole. The Batarang instinctively flung into the aperture’s corner lodged, thus preventing it from immediately closing again. “I’ll be right down,” the Shapely Sentinel said.

True to her word, Batgirl hung momentarily from the edge of the trapdoor and Vixen lowered her to the floor. Seconds later, Batgirl’s tiny Batlight shone around the now-dimly-illuminated chamber. Layer upon layer of thick cobwebs hung from the ceiling and draped the walls, but the area where the endowed explorers stood was relatively clear. A passage seemed to open before them, leading among the cobwebs and into the dark.

“Oh my God!” Vixen exclaimed. “No!”

“What?”

“Look!” Batgirl’s light followed the other woman’s extended arm and pointing finger.

“What is that?” the Curved Crusader asked. Both shapely searchers stared at something suspended among the cobwebs in a white cocoon. It looked like a sausage having a sphere balanced on one end above two appendages with something long extending from the other end above two other appendages.

“It’s probably a dead tiger cub,” Vixen said, reaching toward it.

“Don’t!” Batgirl warned, restraining Vixen’s hand, which hovered inches from the cocooned creature. “I’ve been here before. . . I just remembered the fact I couldn’t think of outside. Before she moved into the Old Criminals’ Home, this house was Black Widow’s hideout!”

“Are you seriously telling me a tiger was caught in a spider’s web?” Vixen asked.

“It looks that way,” Batgirl said. She moved her light around the chamber’s ceiling until it came to rest on an identical cocoon.

“You’re right, but I wouldn’t have believed it without seeing those cocoons,” Vixen said. “I’m getting the weird feeling we’re being watched.”

“It may be even worse,” Batgirl said. “It’s very possible we’re not alone down here.”

“Let’s find Patience,” Vixen urged, moving forward.

“Watch your step down here,” Batgirl warned. “If I’m right, we really don’t want to touch anything!”

The pretty pair prowled along a tunnel and froze as it widened to become a larger chamber, where Vixen whispered a vehement curse.

An enormous web with sticky, silken strands as thick as cables was spread over the wall across from them and an African-American female’s body was splayed against it. Two human skeletons hung in the web on either side of the corpse. The woman's bare hands and feet, as well as most of her forearms and calves, had been cocooned like the tigers and her beautiful, proportional body was clothed in nothing but a fur bikini, a pair of silken panties, and a pair of gold cloth bands secured around her upper arms. Her muscular limbs, as well as her abs and naval were proudly displayed for casual inspection. The look in the captive’s glazed eyes and the set of her clenched jaw conveyed the unspeakable agony she had endured in her final moments of life.

“I’m so sorry,” Batgirl said quietly.

“Whoever did this to Patience—”

“Vixen,” Batgirl said even more softly. “Turn around very slowly and I think we’ll see exactly what killed Patience.”

They turned very slowly and stared at a set of eyes perched above a pair of fangs extending from the creature’s cephalothorax, which was the size of a basketball and from which eight evenly-spaced legs extended. The abdomen beyond the hindmost legs was even larger. In fact, the creature, including its legs, was big enough to cover a basketball court’s center circle, and it was moving slowly forward, scuttling along the tunnel the women had used to reach the chamber.

“That’s one big spider,” Vixen muttered as her eyes widened. “Who knew we’d really be under a house when the chase for Patience’s killer ended?”

“We solved the mystery, but this adventure is far from over,” Batgirl said.

“I’m starting to wonder why I agreed to do this,” Vixen muttered.

“Well, I am here of my own free will,” Batgirl slowly replied, actively trying to control the rate of her breathing. “Following you seemed like the best way to determine who was behind Patience’s disappearance, and we aren’t dead yet.”

“I hope you understand I never intended to lead you into this trap, Batgirl,” the call girl said. “Watching you die here isn’t my idea of a good time.”

“The fact you’ll die, too, does nothing for me,” Batgirl agreed.

Both women backed slowly away from the approaching spider, well aware of the web in which Patience’s body remained suspended behind them.

“Someone trapped us here, and it wasn’t that spider,” Vixen pointed out. “We may have found Patience, but we may die before discovering who killed her — and us!”

Meanwhile, the killer about whom Vixen was speaking reclined comfortably on a circular pillow gazing up at a fly struggling vainly in a spider web. The spider approached slowly, tentatively touching the strands of the web with its legs as it inexorably traversed the trap. The fly’s struggles grew particularly fierce as the spider circled it, studying the prey before fangs sank into the hapless creature and the predator’s venom induced stillness. The watcher’s eyes sparkled with anticipation as the spider began to cocoon the fly. The kill would come very soon.

“Octo?” a pale-haired woman hesitantly asked.

“How am I to be addressed, Silk?” the fascinated watcher asked, maintaining focus on the nearly complete, overhead drama. The trapped fly was shown no mercy and the spider’s meal was soon well underway.

“I apologize, Spider-Priestess.”

The spider in the web above the circular pillow retreated, its hunger satisfied for the moment, leaving its lifeless victim suspended where it had been partially digested, before a long, thick mane of red hair swirled when the watcher sat up, shifting her attention from the fly’s demise to her apologetic, female subordinate.

A bone tiara perched atop Spider-Priestess’ head and, except for the few locks curling over her shoulders from behind her ears, red hair spilled straight back, hanging half way down her back. She used a pair of petrified spiders as earrings and a third hung from a bone choker encircling her throat. Thicker bones were suspended from the front of the choker, partially covering her breasts, and thin bands of material were wound around each of her wrists, as well as both her upper arms. These bands matched the lower portion of a tightly stretched bikini covering her waist and hips. Spider-Priestess’ ‘shorts’ were, in fact, the only cloth garment touching her flesh. She sternly and silently regarded her sycophant for a long moment.

“You are forgiven, Silk. Please address me properly in the future. You never know when the others might be listening. Now, what is it you wish to tell me?”

“Charlotte sends her regards and wanted me to say we have visitors at the old web site.”

“So, you bring interesting news,” Spider-Priestess said, standing and setting her sandaled feet on the chamber floor. “Thank you. Come. Let’s see what unfortunate prey has been caught in the little trap we so carefully set.”

“You’re interested in your monsters is understandable,” Silk said, leading the way out of Spider-Priestess’ private chamber. “It’s also . . . a little disturbing.”

“Stop, Silk!” Spider-Priestess commanded, her voice developing an edge. Silk halted. “Face me!” The redhead’s subordinate hesitantly turned around. “I have warned you to watch your tongue within the past five minutes! Membership in my inner circle does not empower you to blaspheme. I’m confident the others would punish you most harshly.”

“Listen. You’re the one who left giant spiders under that old, frame house,” Silk argued, “You’re also ‘developing’ more of those monstrous creatures here! What am I supposed to think?”

“Silk, please try to appreciate the scope of our achievement,” Spider-Priestess advised, affecting an excited air, and exuding anticipation. “Spiders are ideal hunters and the ones that truly excel at their work are female. Instead of punishing you, I think you should watch my pets in action. Perhaps your killer instinct will develop more quickly. I never want you to deny what you are. You are a killer and you are also mine! It would be well for you to realize both these things sooner rather than later. Now, come!” Spider-Priestess stepped past the other woman before she could respond.

Silk followed her scantily-clad leader to a media center where Spider-Priestess stood watching a large screen upon which Batgirl and Vixen stared at the giant spider crawling toward them down the tunnel beneath the old, frame house. Another woman sat at a computer and toggled among several other smaller images which were of no interest to the redhead.

“So, our uninvited guest had friends, as I knew she would,” Spider-Priestess happily said, resting her hands on her hips and grinning wickedly.

“I recognize Batgirl,” the woman at the computer said. “Who is that with her?”

“Her name is Vixen,” Spider-Priestess said. “I learned of her in my former life.”

“Do you mean when you worked for Black Widow and called yourself Octo?” Silk asked.

“Yes,” Spider-Priestess answered simply. “I knew of her before my enlightenment. Vixen is a whore who will serve anyone.”

“She has female clients as well as men?” the woman at the computer asked.

“Yes, Charlotte,” Spider-Priestess replied, chuckling. “Her career, however, is about to come to an end.”

“Like Batgirl’s,” Silk predicted. “Are our latest visitors friends? It seems odd for a superheroine and a whore to be working together, unless . . . .”

“Batgirl and Vixen are not friends, Silk,” Spider-Priestess explained. “I doubt Batgirl is paying for anything. The fact they fell into our trap together gives the events we are about to witness a unique and delicious piquancy.”

“Have you deliberately used our ‘guest’ from last night as bait for Batgirl and Vixen?” Charlotte asked, rotating her swivel chair and slouching to rest her honey brown hair in the cushion behind her back.

“I didn’t know who it would be,” Spider-Priestess said, shrugging. “It never mattered though, and it will all be over soon enough, particularly for them.”

“What exactly happened last night?” Silk asked, taking new interest in the events about to unfold on the screen. “We left the old web site in an awful hurry.”

“Our ‘guest’ suffered a rather interesting fate,” Spider-Priestess began. “She found her way to the trap door and released a pair of tigers into our web site. They, of course, never reached the floor.” The redhead paused to laugh. “My babies had, of course, spun their webs from the ceiling and the great cats could only struggle until they were bitten and the venom did its work. Since I’d been feeding the babies so well, they sealed the cats in cocoons to devour later.”

Charlotte smiled knowingly and began to comment, “The best laid plans of mice and men. I don’t know where it’s from, but I know it’s true.”

“Schemes,” Silk said. “Robert Burns spoke To a Mouse about the best laid schemes.”

Charlotte shrugged and Spider-Priestess cleared her throat to regain her audience’s attention. “We knew our ‘guest’ had arrived before she reached the floor. I went to fetch the babies’ mother, and as we arrived, our ‘guest’ fled in terror down the tunnel to the inner vault. I sent some men to collect her, but she demolished most of them. We all took our time following the poor thing because, of course, for her there was no escape.”

“Who, exactly, was our ‘guest?'” Silk asked.

“At first, we all thought she looked like Catwoman, or, perhaps, rather, like a catwoman,” Spider-Priestess said.

Charlotte burst out laughing. “A couple of years ago, it seemed a hundred ‘Catwomen’ were active in Gotham City and most were arrested for their trouble. The real Catwoman was not dead, as we all believed, and made a huge splash when she came back working with the Penguin. They kidnapped a diplomat and tried to take over his country. I’ve forgotten most of the details, but Batgirl stopped them.”

“Clearly our ‘guest’ was not the real Catwoman,” Silk declared.

“Indeed she was not,” Spider-Priestess said, as an unholy light glinted in her eyes. “Our ‘guest,’ though, had given us some trouble in the past. So, I decided to deal with her once and for all.” Spider-Priestess smiled thinly, recalling the events of the previous night. “The faux Catwoman was a bit . . . overdressed for what I had planned, but the men had grown quite angry following their demolition. For our ‘guest,’ circumstances and the men’s mood were just too bad.”

“The men ‘helped’ the woman out of some sort of skintight catsuit?”

“The work was less extensive than you probably imagine, Charlotte. For a catwoman, our 'guest' showed a great deal of skin, but not nearly enough for my purpose,” Spider-Priestess explained. “The men began by pulling off her mask and cowl, which had left her eyebrows clearly visible. The ears seemed to me somehow more reminiscent of a fox or even a bat than a cat.”

“Being unmasked right away probably destroyed any mystery the costumed crimefighter created by wearing her costume and mask,” Charlotte observed.

“How humiliating,” Silk agreed. “Did anyone recognize her?”

“No,” Spider-Priestess replied, “but, as you may well imagine, the men were far from finished.”

“Oh,” Silk said, “I’m quite certain things soon got much worse for our ‘guest.’”

“Of course,’ Spider-Priestess agreed. “We could clearly see her abs and navel, but the men felt her black bikini top and the thin ‘belts’ crossing her abdomen and descending to her waist were too much. Removing them was simplicity itself, and the men seemed to thoroughly enjoy the process, which was both lengthy and torturous.”

“I don’t suppose the details are important now,” Charlotte mused. “Having her top removed must have crushed her spirits even more. Particularly considering the work that remained and the fact a truly horrific and painful fate awaited her.”

“It seems our Catwoman had become quite the helpless mouse,” Silk excitedly said. “What did the men take from her next?”

“I wanted to make the most of the woman’s torment, so the men turned their attention to her high-heeled, toeless boots. We could see her ruby-red toenails already and the polish on them seemed a lot like blood once the boots were gone, particularly considering her impending fate.”

“The gloves were next?” Charlotte asked.

“They were black and ran over her forearms and around her elbows. When she arrived, there was a whip in her right hand. The delicious dominatrix had immediately realized the webs would prevent her from using her weapon, and her loss, which must have seemed to have taken place so long ago, was proving to be the beginning of the end, for her.”

“Only her legs remained covered,” Silk said, prompting Spider-Priestess to return to her tale.

“Her legs were closely sheathed in black leather, but the material had somehow been torn to shreds. The men exposed her flesh inch by inch, making slices perpendicular to the shreds. They didn’t hurry to expose her and savored the victim’s fear as it grew, blossoming ever so slowly into something beautiful. Her eyes were wide when her fur bikini was fully exposed, and remained her only real garment. Our uninvited ‘guest’ was completely helpless; utterly defeated; and, most importantly, fully aware of all these facts. She understood them completely.” Spider-Priestess laughed delightedly.

“There wouldn’t be much point in going further,” Silk thoughtfully said.

“I’m sure the men were enjoying themselves thoroughly by this time,” Charlotte mused.

“Indeed,” Spider-Priestess happily agreed. “They had, of course, earned a reward after their initial defeat. So, I left them to ‘soften up the girl’ before stringing her in the web for me. I let them take their time and when they finished, I told our distressed damsel, ‘This is how it ends, Catwoman ...This is always how it was meant to end.' Any bravado she had left evaporated when a few of the babies began to approach and cocoon her limbs. I took full advantage of the moment, telling her, 'Nothing can save you from my pretties now...’ A few of my babies had begun to surround her on the web by this time. She had always known she was doomed, but understanding precisely how she would perish, it seemed to me, was a transformative event.”

“So, she cracked and spilled her guts?” Charlotte asked.

“Not immediately,” Spider-Priestess said. “First, I explained precisely how my pretty babies would proceed, ‘...And death will not come swiftly. Your life will be sucked from you slowly, while I watch.’ Of course, she realized the babies would make a meal of her already, but for my purposes there was no harm in twisting the proverbial knife. ‘Feel free to scream if you want to,’ I invited. ‘Your tigers cannot...’”

“My babies’ meal was both fascinating and instructive,” Spider-Priestess said. “She would twitch and inhale involuntarily as the spiders’ fangs impaled her and her exhalations, at first, were long, delicious screams. Later, as she tired, the screams grew less frequent. As the spiders’ hunger was slowly sated, I realized these pauses in her suffering gave me the opportunity to question her.”

“I’m surprised you got any information out of her at all,” Charlotte remarked. “What could you possibly offer her while the spiders had at her?”

“I let her imagine I would spare her if she talked,” Spider-Priestess said with a laugh. “Hope can be such a powerful motivator.”

“What did she tell you?” Silk asked.

“Her name was Patience Phillips and she fancied herself a crimefighter. She had been aware of many of our recent activities and followed some clues we inadvertently left behind at our crimes. These led her to the old web site.”

“With her gone now, have we dealt with the problem?” Charlotte inquired.

“Nearly,” Spider-Priestess replied. “Between screams, Patience told me she had told a friend about her plans to confront us, so I arranged the reception we are now witnessing. Poor Patience was very weak when the interrogation ended. Her screams had become pathetic moans, and her intense struggles had become mere twitching. My pretty babies were gorged when it was over and the body hung breathless in the end, devoid of strength and life.”

“So,” Silk said, her pretty face concentrating intensely, “when the woman was finished answering your questions, there was nothing you could have done for her, even if you had wanted to save her?”

“Precisely,” Spider-Priestess said. “Of course, my actions protected our Society from discovery, and you well know how precious secrecy is to the Society.”

Silk turned away from Spider-Priestess and noted Batgirl and Vixen had nearly backed into the enormous, sticky web behind them, where Patience’s mortal remains were still suspended. The previously released spider was still scuttling toward them.

“There is something I don’t understand,” Silk said. “If the spiders’ den is completely dark, how can we see Batgirl and Vixen?”

Charlotte grinned and explained. “Before we left, we set up precisely calibrated cameras to monitor the entire den via infrared radiation.”

“We’re bombarding our intended victims and the spiders with radiation?!”

Charlotte sighed. “They emit the radiation themselves, as heat. Infrared radiation is right beside visible light on the electromagnetic spectrum.”

“How come the images are so clear?”

“I have software helping to interpret the images we’re picking up.”

“Well, it appears the diners’ next repast is nearly prepared,” Silk remarked. “Of course, no mercy is to be shown anyone who threatens the Society and its aims.”

“They’ll both be trapped momentarily, and there should be plenty of food for Mommy and all the babies this time,” Charlotte agreed.

“Indeed,” Spider-Priestess said. “We’re in for a delightful show featuring twice as many victims. The screams will be twice as delicious, and they’re about to begin. Nature can be so entertaining.” She laughed and her lieutenants joined her after awhile. All three of them watched the screen eagerly, anticipating the meal the spiders would soon make of the succulent searchers.

Beneath the old, frame house on Lava Lane, Batgirl and Vixen backed slowly away from the gigantic spider. “We’re running out of room,” Batgirl warned.

“Don’t you have something in that utility belt of yours for a situation like this?”

“I don’t exactly have a bug zapper,” Batgirl said, reaching for a compartment of her belt. “This may help us out, though.”

“How are you going to fight that thing with a pointer?!” Vixen demanded.

“I’m not,” Batgirl said, extending her telescoping, metal tool and using it to draw the webs from the wall beside them. “Find the ring on the wall. It’s the handle of a trapdoor leading to a side tunnel.”

Both women’s eyes scanned the wall in the gloom. Vixen suddenly pointed. “There!” She stepped forward and gripped the ring, tugging and twisting vainly. “Our escape hatch is locked!”

“Here,” Batgirl said, handing the call girl a lock pick. “Hurry!” As she held back the sticky web strands with her extended pointer and the light for Vixen, Batgirl’s gaze flicked repeatedly between the woman bent over the looked trapdoor and the enormous arachnid slowly scuttling toward them, eager to proceed with its predatory agenda.

“Got it,” Vixen said. “Come on!” She wrenched the trapdoor open and darted through with Batgirl close behind. Both gratefully exhaled the breath they had been holding as Batgirl slammed the trapdoor. “It’s a good thing you knew about this tunnel.”

“The police explored this hideout thoroughly after Black Widow was caught. If I remember the layout, we can reach the main chamber and get out of here. After all, it goes the right way.” Batgirl paused, then her voice was quiet. “You learned what you wanted to know, didn’t you?”

“I think I found out everything we can learn from here,” Vixen said. “We’ll decide our next move outside this spider’s den.” Vixen halted, having reached the trapdoor at the other end of the tunnel they were following. “I don’t have to pick this lock. Are you ready?”

“Let’s go!” Batgirl fervently urged.

Beyond the trapdoor was the chamber Batgirl and Vixen had originally entered. “Move your light back a second,” Vixen said. Her teeth flashed. “You know what that is?” she asked pointing steadily into the gloom.

“A gas pipe,” Batgirl said, “but we’ll never reach it through those webs.”

“If you have a Batarang, we won’t have to,” Vixen replied.

Batgirl frowned as they entered the chamber again. “I don’t know.”

“I’m open to better ideas, but there are no guarantees we’ve seen the only spider down here. Do you really want them to reproduce?”

Without a word Batgirl pulled a Batarang from her belt and flung it toward the pipe Vixen had spotted. The razor sharp wings sliced through the webs between Batgirl and her target before one wing impaled the pipe. A hiss began to sound.

“Give me a leg up and we’ll get out of here!” Vixen urged.

Batgirl nodded and put her tools away before lacing her gloved fingers together to form a step the call girl used to climb to the trap door and vanish.

For what seemed like an age, the Curved Crusader looked up at the hole in the ceiling through which her companion had disappeared. “Vixen!” Batgirl called.

When the echoes of her voice had died, the only sound was the hiss of the gas Batgirl had released. She took a rope from her hip and prepared to make her own exit as she noticed a dozen small eyes gazing at her from above. ‘She was right,’ Batgirl thought. ‘There are more spiders. The gas will probably kill them before it kills me, but I would prefer to avoid taking that gamble – if I can.’

“Batgirl,” Vixen said. The Dark Angel of Gotham City shifted her gaze from the approaching spiders to the open trap door, where the call girl’s face had reappeared. “You have no idea how tempting it is to close this door and leave you behind, but then I’d never be able to destroy the spiders’ den.”

“You’ll need to hurry, regardless. There is a large spider crawling toward you on the ceiling and it’s only about a yard away," Batgirl said.

“Sometimes you’re no fun,” Vixen said, reaching an arm down through the trapdoor. Batgirl took the call girl’s hand and each gripped her counterpart’s wrist before Vixen pulled Batgirl up to safety with relative ease. “I need a few firebombs now,” Vixen said.

Batgirl provided them and Vixen set the timers before dropping them through the trapdoor and closing it. Both women hurried from the house. Seconds later, it erupted into a ball of flame.

“Turn off the cameras, Charlotte,” Spider-Priestess ordered. Her face was a mask etched with hate. “Our task now is to avenge the murders Batgirl and Vixen just committed!”

“We’ll have to find Batgirl and Vixen in order to kill them,” Charlotte pointed out.

“Where will they go now?” Silk asked. “Unless we can predict their next move . . . .”

“They know our original victim was Patience Phillips and she was investigating us,” Spider-Priestess reasoned, stalking back and forth across her media center. “So, that woman’s findings will be of interest to the murderers. Send a dozen men to Patience Phillips’ apartment and ambush Batgirl and Vixen. You two will join me to seal their fate after we collect a few things. Now, pay attention . . . strict attention!” Hate burned in Spider-Priestess’ eyes as she elaborated her murderous plans.

Light rain began to fall on Batgirl and Vixen as they stood beside the Batgirlcycle in front of the inferno the old, frame house on Lava Lane had become.

“Thank you for saving my life, Batgirl,” Vixen said. “I owe you.”

“My colleagues and I don’t keep score,” Batgirl replied. “Nevertheless, you’re welcome. We made a pretty good team down there.”

Vixen shrugged. “I knew I could count on you.” She began to pace, turned around, and retuned to Batgirl. “We learned what happened to Patience, but don’t have a clue as to who arranged her death and set the trap for anyone coming after her. I’m glad those spiders won’t be able to threaten or harm anyone else, though.”

“Black Widow is still in the Old Criminals' Home, as far as I know. I’ll double check in the morning and see if I can dig up a lead.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow night to see if you learned anything interesting. For now, I’m going to check out Patience’s apartment,” Vixen said. She raised an eyebrow. “Want to tag along?”

“Sure. First, though, I need to ask you what you plan to do with whomever we learn set that trap and killed Patience,” Batgirl said.

“You’d like me to turn them over to the police, so they can be prosecuted and punished, despite every scrap of evidence we had having just gone up in smoke, wouldn’t you? ” Vixen demanded.

“You’re sidestepping my question.”

“I want to see whoever is behind Patience's murder punished, one way or another. Is that fair enough for now?”

“Okay. We need to figure out who is responsible for her murder before arguing about how to punish the perpetrator, anyway,” Batgirl said, “but I’m not going to let you take the law into your own hands!”

“You should change sides, Batgirl. This moralizing is slowing us down. Let’s go!”

Batgirl put her hand on Vixen’s shoulder, just as the call girl began to mount the Batgirlcycle. “What if you were to reform?”

Vixen thought for a moment and shrugged. “It’s not going to happen. So, the question is moot.”

Batgirl could not help smiling as she got on her vehicle and changed the subject. “You know Patience’s address, of course?”

“Certainly,” Vixen responded, climbing onto the Batgirlcycle behind the Curved Crusader. They could hear a fire engine siren in the distance as they pulled away.

Shortly thereafter, the Batgirlcycle arrived at Patience Phillips’ apartment complex. “Which one is it?” Batgirl asked.

“Do you want to go up the outside wall while I take the front door?” Vixen asked, pointing out a darkened window.

“Do you think such precautions are really warranted?” Batgirl asked, grinning. “You’re better dressed for the weather.”

Vixen ignored Batgirl’s attempt at humor and observed, “The last place we went literally was a deathtrap. I think we should be very careful.”

“Good thinking,” Batgirl said more seriously. “How will I know when you’ve arrived?”

“You’ll know,” Vixen said, grinning over her shoulder before moving toward the building. Batgirl threw a rope to the roof and began to Batclimb the wall.

At Patience Phillips’ window, Batgirl tried to slide the clear glass obstruction aside and was surprised when the glass pane moved easily. She backed away to avoid being framed by the aperture and froze, watching and wondering at the simplicity of entering the apartment through the now open window.

‘After all,’ she thought, ‘Vixen pointed out our last port of call was a trap.’

Batgirl’s lips curled into a thin smile as a shadow shifted in the dim light beyond the open window. Slowly, never taking her eyes off the opening, the Curved Crusader pulled out a pair of heat sensitive goggles. After a moment, she looked through them. ‘Twelve bodies,’ Batgirl thought, counting the ambushers Spider-Priestess had sent. ‘It looks like someone commissioned a reception committee . . . and they probably know Vixen and I are here.’

As the Curved Crusader put away her goggles, she wondered how she might alert Vixen to the impending ambush. The point became moot suddenly when the apartment door burst in, admitting Vixen without preamble.

Batgirl let a handful of pellets fall into her hand and leaped through the open window. Flipping over in midair, she flung knockout gas pellets away from her, shouting, “Look out, Vixen. It’s another trap!” Batgirl’s boots took one man to the floor hard as she landed.

Vixen retreated from the men swarming toward her, settling into a fighting crouch in one corner of the room. The men attacked undaunted, and soon realized they might all be needed to subdue their intended victims. A stiff arm slammed one man into a wall before Vixen delivered a blow to the small of his back, making him collapse with a painful moan.

Batgirl launched a showgirl kick at the next man to challenge her, taking him out. She spotted a movement to her right and pivoted, letting both her fists slam into a man’s side with the force of driven pistons.

Vixen drove her heel straight into another of her attacker’s guts and brought her opposite knee into his chin as he fell toward her. Her toe took him out as he straightened.

Both women were soon locked in hand-to-hand combat with their attackers, exchanging offensive and defensive combinations and reducing their attackers’ numbers slowly. Minutes later, the last of the men to challenge Batgirl and Vixen slammed into one another and fell to the floor to end the confrontation.

“Nicely done,” Batgirl complimented, shaking the call girl’s offered hand. “I never thought I’d be fighting on your side.”

“Your gas balls did a job on many of them, too,” Vixen said. “At least we have people to question now.” She reached down and pulled one of Batgirl’s victims to his feet with the front of his twisted shirt and slammed his shoulders into a wall. “Who are you working for?”

“No,” the man mumbled, once he had revived. “She’ll kill me if I tell.”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t,” Vixen said. “So, talk!”

“He works for me!” Spider-Priestess said, stepping into the room, followed by Silk and Charlotte. Each of the redhead’s companions wore gloves from which fang-like triangles resembling fingernails extended.

“Octo!” Batgirl said as Silk and Charlotte separated to approach the Curved Crusader and Vixen from opposite directions. Vixen shoved the man she was threatening away and pivoted to face her oncoming, potential attackers. The Curved Crusader went on speaking. “I’d hoped you would have seen the folly of your criminal ways, but it seems you’re back and up to your old tricks.”

“I’m called Spider-Priestess now, and Gotham City will soon flee in terror when I reveal my power.”

“Based on what I’ve seen,” Vixen said, “your power is very impressive.”

“Oh, it is,” Spider-Priestess said. “You’ll both learn that lesson very soon.”

“If you were to use your beauty and intelligence to help people rather than to harm others, you could accomplish great things, Spider-Priestess,” Batgirl said.

“I have accomplished great things, Batgirl,” Spider-Priestess announced. “The Bluestone Spider Society has come back, literally from the dead.”

“You mentioned an interest in ancient cults when I arrested you,” Batgirl said. “I never imagined you would try to lead one.”

“You were foolish to underestimate me.”

“We didn’t realize Patience Phillips was investigating such a . . . historical organization,” Vixen said. “Your leadership is obviously responsible for drawing it through the cobwebbed corridors of time and into the present.”

“It would be more apt to say your organization crawled out of the dust bin of history,” Batgirl said, “or maybe out from under a rock!”

“I think I’ve heard enough,” Spider-Priestess said.

“Before you kill us,” Vixen quickly said, “please tell me what you would ask of a new member to your Society?”

“A demonstration of devotion must precede the initiation ritual,” the redheaded rogue replied. “From you, Vixen, it would have to be very good.” The woman clad in bones barely glanced at Vixen, but regarded Batgirl for a long moment, as though sizing her up.

“Batgirl will never accept your leadership, Spider-Priestess. She is simply incapable of willingly pursuing your goals,” Vixen explained, “at least as long as she remains in her right mind.”

“You’ve got the part about me never following Spider-Priestess right,” the Curved Crusader agreed. “As for your goals, Spider-Priestess, murder isn’t hard to figure out!”

Vixen suddenly spun, leaping into the air, and bringing her heel into the side of Batgirl’s head. The Dominoed Daredoll was too slow to realize what was happening and collapsed. She was unconscious when her body settled to the floor.

Vixen landed and let her hands rest on her hips as she faced the younger woman. “Her own words condemn her. I deliver her to your mercy, with my compliments, and the hope she is a worthy initial tribute.”

Silk and Charlotte moved toward Vixen, ready for action.

“Wait!” Spider-Priestess commanded, holding up a restraining hand. “I accept your tribute with some reservations, Vixen. You are right to believe I want to eliminate Batgirl, but I can’t help suspecting you give her to me simply to save your own miserable skin.” Charlotte and Silk were a mere step away and Vixen knew both were poised to attack. Despite their nearness, the call girl focused on Spider-Priestess’ smile as the villainess continued, “Nevertheless, your actions serve me and I don’t want to pass up the opportunity to bring someone with your wide and varied talents into my inner circle. So, you are one of us, until you demonstrate you are not. If that happens, then, of course, you will need to die.”

“I understand your reluctance to accept me,” Vixen said. “Thank you very much for this opportunity.”

“I’ll happily take full advantage of the opportunity,” Spider-Priestess said. “The risk is calculated, on both our parts. Mine, however, will soon be considerably mitigated once you’ve submitted to our ritual, which will ensure your loyalty . . . forever.” Spider-Priestess held the call girl’s gaze with a hard stare.

“Commitment is essential,” Vixen said. “I admire your . . . focus while you pursue your goals.”

The redhead grinned wickedly and indicated Batgirl. “Your sincerity will be essential to your survival until you’ve earned my trust, Vixen. It’s fair to warn you, if you betray me the way you betrayed her, I will personally see to it your anguished screams echo for hours before you die.”

“I look forward to serving you, and earning your trust.”

“Splendid,’ Spider-Priestess enthused, grinning wolfishly. “You may begin by helping us do away with Batgirl. Needling her a little won’t hurt us one bit.” Spider-Priestess, Silk, and Charlotte smiled knowingly and laughed. Vixen soon joined in their merriment, but became silent seconds after the others did.

“We now have twice the equipment available to do the job,” Silk observed.

“It would be a shame waste our resources,” Charlotte agreed.

“Bring her, girls.” Spider-Priestess ordered.

When Batgirl recovered, she was lying on her chest atop the mattress of a canopied bed with her arms and legs splayed wide. Her head was turned so she could see the interior of the room where Spider-Priestess, Vixen, Silk, and Charlotte watched her eagerly. The Curved Crusader moaned. Although she was unrestrained, when she tried to shift, she could not!

“Are you familiar with acupuncture, Batgirl?” Spider-Priestess asked.

“I’ve heard of it, but never tried it,” the helpless heroine replied.

“Show Batgirl what you’ve done to her, girls,” the redheaded rogue commanded, grinning wickedly.

Silk closed a mirrored closet door and Charlotte shut the bedroom door, on the back of which a full-length mirror had been mounted. Batgirl was able to see several needles pressed through her costume and flesh, remaining extended and perpendicular to her prone form. As she stared and marveled at her helplessness, Batgirl noted the absence of both her cape and her utility belt.

Silken threads extended upward from the needles to intertwine before ascending to the top of the bed’s frame above Batgirl. “It looks like you’ve made me into a human pincushion,” Batgirl said. As she spoke, Batgirl was amazed to feel no pain considering the number of pins impaling her. “I suppose you’re about to tell me you’ll soon sew up my fate.”

“You’re behind the times, Batgirl,” Spider-Priestess teased. “I’d say we’ve sewn up your fate already. All that remains is my plan’s execution, and your execution will, of course, take place simultaneously.”

“All right,” Batgirl said. “I’ll ask. What have you done to me?”

“The needles with which the girls have pierced your body are positioned strategically in the vicinity of major nerve bundles. Attacking the nerves prevents your brain from sending the messages required to move key muscle groups. Until the needles are removed, you’ll remain right where you are, completely and irrevocably immobilized.” Batgirl’s captors laughed.

“There is more, of course.”

“Naturally,” Spider-Priestess concurred. “I sent the men here to take this place apart and remove any evidence the late Ms. Phillips might have found proving the Bluestone Spider Society exists. Before we go, not only will that chore be complete, but I will have recruited one of the Society’s enemies and disposed of another. Although, since you told me murder wasn’t difficult to figure out, you’d probably guessed you’d be leaving here in a hearse.”

“We’ll see about that prediction,” Batgirl softly said.

“Indeed we will,” Spider-Priestess agreed, matching Batgirl’s quiet, deadly tone.

“I’d say this little outing has been a complete success,” Silk enthused.

“Our Society is being protected brilliantly,” Charlotte delightedly agreed. “Loose ends are being tied into a pretty bow as we speak.”

“Is it just me, or is it a little stuffy in here?” Vixen asked.

“Open the windows, if you’ll be more comfortable,” Spider-Priestess said. “After all, the lessee of this apartment won’t object if the rain gets the carpet wet.”

Vixen threw open the windows and turned as the wind from the storm tousled her hair. “Thank you, Spider-Priestess. I’d rather watch Batgirl die in a comfortably cool environment,” Vixen said. The helpless heroine focused on her betrayer’s eyes, noticing they had narrowed into mere slits in response to Spider-Priestess’ words. The call girl’s voice, however, betrayed nothing as she continued speaking. “Now, how exactly will Batgirl get it?”

“I’ve brought a quantity of venom I drew from my pretty, baby spiders’ fangs,” Spider-Priestess answered. "You girls will pour all of it onto the canopy above Batgirl and it will slowly soak through. When it does, the web we’ve spun within the sleeping chamber will convey the venom to the needles, which will direct it into Batgirl. Her muscles will then be rendered as motionless as her entire body shortly afterward.”

“The heart is a muscle and Batgirl’s body will be completely saturated with paralyzing venom,” Vixen thoughtfully said, grinning. “Nice!”

“Well,” Spider-Priestess said. “long before Batgirl’s heart stops, the many smaller muscles regulating the expansion and contraction of her lungs will be paralyzed. Then, the weight of the back bones comprising her rib cage, as well as the heavy vertebrae protecting her spinal column, will compress those vital organs and prevent them from ever expanding again. Shortly thereafter, the body will begin to starve, cell by tiny cell. I’d imagine that process is delightfully excruciating. Of course, Batgirl is about to find out, but I doubt she’ll be able to tell us afterward.” A wicked smile illuminated the young villainess’ face along with the unholy light glittering in her eyes.

“That really does sound horrible,” Charlotte mused.

“It should be a fascinating show,” Silk said, her eyes sparkling with eager anticipation.

“See to the captive, girls,” Spider-Priestess ordered, handing a bottle each to Charlotte, Silk, and Vixen. The trio moved to the bedside and opened their bottles of deadly fluid, emptying them onto the canopy above Batgirl. “Unfortunately, the need to determine the extent to which the late Ms. Philips’ research compromised the Society, together with the need to perform the initiation ritual with Vixen, will prevent us from staying to witness Batgirl’s final breath. I am sorry, girls.”

“Don’t hang around on my account,” Batgirl said.

“It’s been a glorious night, so far, and for Vixen, it is only beginning,” Spider-Priestess said. “Silence, Batgirl, girls. We wouldn’t want her to give voice to her anguish and disturb anyone.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Batgirl’s brunette betrayer said, taking a strip of silk and a wad of material Silk and Charlotte offered respectively.

“Why, Vixen?” Batgirl asked, before her former ally secured the gag.

“Why not?” the call girl replied. “You’re far too trusting, Batgirl. I have to go, now, but you’ll be staying and shivering for the rest of your existence. Don’t worry. It won’t take the venom long to reach you. Goodbye.” She straightened and moved to the door, reaching to turn off the lights. Silk and Charlotte followed obediently, in response to their mistress’ gesture.

Spider-Priestess bent over her victim and kissed Batgirl’s cheek with scented lips before turning to follow her shapely sycophants. In the door, the redhead smiled at Batgirl for a brief moment. “Death is the ultimate fate of all my enemies. Farewell, forever, Batgirl!” The young villainess closed the door, which locked automatically with an ominous click.

Batgirl remained where she was, silent and powerless to do anything as the storm’s winds began to caress her body. Thunder rolled and a lightening flash revealed the canopy of the bed had soaked through already. Glistening, deadly liquid was descending slowly toward her along the sinister strands of Spider-Priestess’ evil web.

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