My breath crystallizes in the frigid morning air, forming miniature clouds that drift upward and dissolve against the pale winter sky. The golden mask of my suit feels strangely comforting against my face, like reuniting with an old friend. It's Christmas morning, 7:45 AM, and I'm trudging through snow-covered woods toward the woman who tortured me.
"Jesus fucking Christ, it's cold," Taskmistress mutters beside me, her white cape billowing behind her like a ghost in the frozen air. Her skull mask turns toward me, those empty black eye holes somehow conveying exasperation despite their emptiness. "Remind me why we're walking the last half mile instead of driving right up to the gate?"
"Because we're trying to be stealthy?" I offer, my boots crunching through snow.
Through the bare trees ahead, Osborn's mansion looms like something from a gothic nightmare, all stone and spires against the gray morning sky. My stomach knots at the sight, memories of that underwater prison cell threatening to surface, but I push them down.
Venom moves closer to me, her massive form blotting out what little warmth the winter sun provides. The symbiote extends across the small gap between us, wrapping around my shoulders and arms like a living blanket. Despite the twenty degree [A/N: -5 for you disgusting celsius fucks] weather temperatures, I'm surprisingly comfortable as the alien substance generates heat against my skin.
"Thanks," I murmur, leaning slightly into her touch.
Those blank white eyes tilt down toward me, narrowing slightly with affection. "We will keep you warm," she responds, her dual-layered voice rumbling through the quiet forest.
"You should get yourself a girlfriend with an alien goo monster," I tell Taskmistress.
She scoffs, her gloved hand drifting to the twin pistols strapped to her thighs. "Nah, fuck that," she says with startling conviction. "The more annoyed I am, the better I am at killing." She pats her weapons with something close to affection. "Cold keeps me sharp."
Spider-Woman moves silently ahead of us, the maroon substance of her symbiote shifting constantly across her form as she scouts our path. She hasn't spoken much this morning, her movements tense and purposeful. There's something different about her now, something darker that makes me uneasy.
We slow our pace as we reach the edge of the tree line, crouching low in the underbrush. Spider-Woman halts suddenly, raising her hand in a silent signal. We all freeze, watching as she points toward a patrol of guards circling the east perimeter, their breath visible in the winter air.
Taskmistress extends her arm, stopping our advance. "Alright, this is it," she says, her voice low and measured behind the skull mask. Her gaze shifts to me. "You good, Shane?"
"Skip Step," I correct automatically, feeling a strange comfort in using my hero name again. The shotgun feels heavy in my gloved hands, but not unwelcome.
She nods, something like approval in her posture. "Sorry," she says. "You good, Skipper?"
"Yes," I sigh.
Taskmistress looks to Venom, who gives a curt nod, her massive form tensing with anticipation. The living darkness of her body shifts across her muscles, ready for violence. Then Task turns to Spider-Woman, who simply stares back, the white eye patches of her mask betraying nothing.
"Alright," Taskmistress says, her voice taking on an edge of annoyance. "Give me a few minutes, and when you see people freaking out, give it another minute and then go."
"Okay," I say, my voice steadier than I expected.
Without another word, Taskmistress slips away through the trees, her white cape the last thing to disappear among the winter foliage. The silence that follows feels oppressive.
I press myself closer to Venom's massive form, drawing comfort from her presence. The symbiote extends slightly around my arm, not quite touching but close enough that I can feel its warmth.
"Nervous?" Spider-Woman asks.
"I guess," I answer, fidgeting with the shotgun in my hands. My gaze drifts toward the mansion where Norma waits, unaware of what's coming for her. "Honestly, I just really want to kill Norma."
Spider-Woman nods, her maroon-covered head tilting slightly in understanding.
"I'm going to fucking flay Osborn," Venom growls beside me, her voice a harmonious blend of and the symbiote that sends shivers down my spine.
I lean closer to her massive form. "Maybe we could feed her her own hand?"
Venom considers this, those blank white eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I feel like we can do better than that."
I pause, considering the possibilities as my mind fills with dark images of revenge.
"Well, I definitely want to pluck her eyes out." I add.
Venom's monstrous face splits into a terrifying smile, rows of needle-sharp teeth gleaming in the winter light. "We could feed her those."
"That'd be nice," I agree, a strange warmth spreading through my chest at the thought.
Spider-Woman shifts beside me, the maroon covering her form pulsing slightly as she turns to face me.
"After this is over," she says quietly, "we go back to being heroes, Shane."
The statement catches me off guard, a strange twist in my gut replacing the bloodlust that's been fueling me. I stare at the mansion through the trees, suddenly unsure.
"I don't know if I'm hero material anymore," I admit, the words feeling heavy as they leave my mouth.
She places a hand on my shoulder, the symbiote-covered fingers surprisingly gentle. "You are," she says with conviction.
Venom makes a low rumbling sound, her massive head turning toward us. "We can talk about this later, okay?" There's a nervous edge to her voice.
A thunderous boom suddenly rips through the morning air, shaking the snow from nearby branches. The explosion erupts from the far side of the courtyard, sending a plume of black smoke billowing into the winter sky. Through the trees, I can see figures running across the pristine garden, their shouts carrying faintly on the frigid breeze.
"Should we go?" I ask, my finger tightening on the shotgun's trigger, adrenaline surging through my veins.
Spider-Woman grabs my arm, her grip firm through the symbiote covering. "No," she hisses. "Task said to give it another minute. Wait for the guards to get drawn to the distraction."
Through the bare branches, I watch as security personnel flood from the mansion's side entrances. They move with military precision, fanning out across the snow-covered grounds with weapons drawn. I count at least two dozen of them, their black tactical gear stark against the white landscape.
Another explosion erupts, closer this time. The detonation catches the cluster of guards in its deadly radius. One moment they're moving in formation, and the next they're just... gone. The blast transforms them into a red mist that stains the pristine snow, their tactical gear shredded into confetti that rains down on the crimson-spattered landscape.
My stomach lurches, but I'm surprised to find no horror rising within me, just cold satisfaction.
I hear shouts of panic from inside the mansion. More guards pour out the front entrance, weapons raised, moving with greater caution now as they scan the tree line opposite of us. Their faces are tense, professional, but I can see the fear in their movements, the way they duck low, the frantic sweeping of their rifles.
Beside me, Venom's massive form shifts. Her big eyes tighten to dangerous slits as she watches the new arrivals spread across the bloodstained snow. Her clawed hand suddenly closes around my arm, the grip gentle but insistent.
"Now!"