Quoted By:
<span class="mu-r">“How much info did you manage to get when you hacked into my phone earlier?”</span> you asked. <span class="mu-r">“I’m not a huge fan of having my privacy invaded.”</span>
<span class="mu-r">“Nothing that I didn’t know already.”</span> she said, and you had the impression that she was shrugging right now. <span class="mu-r">“Just your name, close friends, family, etc.”</span>
You gritted your teeth and choked down a torrent of expletives that nearly rose up out of your throat like bile. You had a feeling that she’d have some dirt on you.
<span class="mu-r">“...That sounded like a threat, didn’t it? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”</span> Arachne said, sounding genuinely penitent. <span class="mu-r">“I just wanted you to know that I know who you are. And I know about your, um…other business.”</span>
That should’ve shocked you, but it only made you feel more confused. If she knew about your night life, then why did she volunteer herself to help you in the first place? She could’ve just taken all that information to the police, and you would’ve been done for. You never would've even knows that she was involved.
It was a physical effort, but you managed to keep your voice from giving any hint to the countless emotions bubbling up from within you. <span class="mu-r">“Then why’d you reach out to me in particular? I want the real reason.”</span> you said, all the mirth now gone from your voice. <span class="mu-r">“Someone with your skills would have no problem getting an internship at Stark Industries.”</span>
Arachne remained silent for a long time. With each passing second, you could feel your heart rate rising rapidly. It felt like it would beat right out of your chest if you were forced to endure any more stress. Until finally, she cleared her throat and spoke.
<span class="mu-r">“Well…for one, you stopped killing. So...that’s something.”</span> she said in a far more meek tone than the one you were used to. <span class="mu-r">“It’s the only reason that my boss decided to reach out to you.”</span>
Christ. How much of your life does this woman know about?
<span class="mu-r">“...Your boss?”</span>
<span class="mu-r">“Mhm. You see, I work for Madame Web. She’s the one that told me about you. She’s got these, like, psychic powers or something. I don’t completely understand it myself.”</span> Arachne mentioned casually. <span class="mu-r">“She was going to leave you alone, but she recently took an interest in you for some reason.”</span>
<span class="mu-r">“Wait wait wait! Run that by me again.”</span> you said, shaking your head furiously. <span class="mu-r">“You work for Madame Web!? That genius hacker lady?”</span>
Arachne let out a satisfied chuckle, seemingly pleased with your assessment. <span class="mu-r">“Oh no, that’s always been me. Web does other things, but she allows me to use her name sometimes.”</span>
That made no sense to you, but you decided to let it slide for now. So the real Madame Web is a psychic that’s been spying on you? Why didn’t your spider sense go off? Come to think of it, could a telepath’s interference even be picked up on your radar?
(Cont.)
