[Harlem, New York City]
A light rain misted over Harlem, soft yet relentless, soaking the streets in a pall of damp desolation. Dark clouds loomed high, blotting out the stars and the moon, leaving the night heavy and unfeeling. The stench of wet concrete mingled with the lingering odour of decay from the overflowing storm drains. It was the sort of night that wrapped the city in a suffocating embrace, choking out anything that resembled hope.
A yellow taxi tore through the empty streets, its headlights cutting jagged slices through the gloom. Water splashed up as its wheels slammed into a pothole, spraying a foul puddle onto the pavement. Colleen Wing didn't flinch. The cold, filthy water soaked the hems of her jeans, but she didn't stop or shift her stride. Her coat clung to her, weighed down by rain and the clotted remnants of her father's blood. The stains were dark, almost black now, hidden beneath the folds of fabric but etched into her memory. She hadn't changed since that night. There had been no time. No time for mourning. No time for rest. Only purpose.
Her hair, damp and plastered against her neck, shielded her face from view. Beneath its dark curtain, her eyes burned cold and sharp, the steely focus of a blade tempered in fury. She kept her hands buried in her pockets, not for warmth, but to conceal the tension coiled in her fists. Every step forward felt like a battle against exhaustion, yet she pressed on, fuelled by a resolve that refused to waver.
The Hand.
The thought sent a fresh wave of anger through her chest. No one else would kill a man like her father, brilliant, kind, and reclusive, just to steal a cursed book. A book that had been hidden with obsessive care. A book her father had spent years protecting. And it wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be. Only the Hand operated with such precision, such ruthlessness. Their name felt like acid on her tongue.
Her jaw tightened. Another name surfaced, unwelcome. Black Tarantula.
Colleen's lips pressed into a thin line. He had come into their lives only the night before. Her father had vouched for him, claiming his innocence, but now? Trusting him felt like folly. Was he involved somehow? Did he lead them to her father? The possibility gnawed at her, but she forced the thought away. Her mind was too clouded to think clearly, too raw. It didn't matter, anyway. She couldn't afford distractions.
What mattered was the hunt.
Colleen was a private investigator, a good one. Tracking people wasn't new to her, and Harlem's shadowed streets were familiar ground. Her contacts, those who operated within the criminal underworld, the occultists, the desperate and dangerous, had proven useful before. Tonight was no different. An informant had pointed her toward an abandoned warehouse near the crumbling industrial edge of Harlem. A place where groups of robed men had been seen gathering.
It wasn't much to go on, but it fit the profile of the Hand. That was enough.
Her katana, slung over her shoulder, jostled lightly beneath her coat with every step. The familiar weight pressed against her, an unspoken question in the steel. What will you do when the time comes? The blade whispered to her, reminding her of its purpose, its potential. Her training, her grandfather's lessons, always emphasized discipline and restraint.
The katana was an extension of her soul, a tool for justice, not vengeance.
But this wasn't about justice.
The image of her father's lifeless body burned behind her eyes. Blood soaking the floorboards. The shattered quiet of their home. The memory tightened like a vice around her chest, stealing her breath. Discipline and honour felt like distant ideals now. The Hand didn't deserve restraint. They didn't respect life. To them, it was something to be controlled, twisted, and discarded.
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- Black Tarantula - Male Reader x Marvel
Fanfiction[Male Reader x Marvel] Being a hero is a hard task, and not because of tough enemies, or the threat of death, but because it was about making a choice, a choice to take responsibility into one's own hands, and strike out for what they believed was r...
