Spider Man Noir Novels & Stories

So she called the person she trusted the most in the world— There was a click as the call went through. “Hello?” “Madam Dahlia, it’s me, Spider.” Aria’s eyes were perfectly still in the darkness. “Good news. “—I’ve established contact with the assassination target.”

A smile washes over my face as his rough voice floods the space, and I can just imagine his tired, haggard face. “Because not only are you the weapons manufacturer,” he continues, “you’re also a Nero. And you’ve managed to bag the only other Nero in the galaxy they know about. I think you could stand to learn a little humility, Nova.” “Slag, Edan, you’re alive!” I say, relief flooding through me. “Are the others okay?” “What the void, Nova?” Zayne’s voice speaks through the overhead sound system. “You can’t just go and disappear like that and then make a major outing on The Black Hole of Truth. Are you trying to give everyone a slam heart attack?”

Her back arched into him and his skin on her skin dissolved the thoughts from her head. “Be still!” He snarled. Was it her imagination or was his voice gruffer than it was before? He yanked up the sleeve of her dress and exposed her tattoo. “A spider.” He spat, reviled. Yes, she was. Every assassin in The Den was called a Spider and damn him, she was the best at what she did!

I say and the spider starts laughing as his men look at me in shock. "I knew you were fast, but this..." He starts clapping. "What makes you think we need him? You can kill him for all we care. Your only two if you still count your boy toy against us. What are the odds of winning?" He taunts with a smirk as I glance behind at Jayden for a microsecond. He winks and I suddenly understand what he means. I look back at the Spider who takes out a gun. I let my knife slit across the man's neck just as I hear Jayden fighting off the man holding him. The men start running towards me as the Spider talks something hastily into his earpiece.

It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. And I knew exactly who it was, standing over the poor man. Noir. His back was to me, broad shoulders tense as he looked down at the shivering man whose whimpers and screams seemed to have choked him up. Noir was wearing a sky blue T-shirt with the symbol of a scorpion on it. His back rose and fell steadily, according to his breaths. His hair was let down; black strands fell carelessly just above his shoulders. Calm. Too calm.

Spider, seated in the passenger seat, leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied the dark tree line on both sides of the road. “That wasn’t here yesterday,” Spider muttered. Sarah, seated in the back, looked up from her phone. “What’s wrong?” Scorpion didn’t answer right away. His gaze swept the surroundings, too quiet, too clean. No animals. No passing cars. Even the wind seemed to have gone still. “This is wrong,” Spider said flatly, turning halfway toward Sarah. “Ma’am, we need to brace for impact.” Her stomach tightened instantly. “Impact?” Spider reached for the door handle. “I’ll step out and move it.”

only the desperate used, a place where the ceiling lights didn't reach and the shadows had teeth. They scrambled up a rickety wooden ladder, the wood groaning under their weight. Below them, Gnash skidded to a halt, looking up with a grimace. He wasn't a climber, but he was a tracker. He pulled a small mechanical spider from his pocket and whispered a command into its gears. The spider’s eyes glowed red, and it began to scale the wall with terrifying efficiency. "He’s got a drone-construct!" Anna hissed, her blue eyes flashing.

she asked hopefully. Spider grinned, his dark eyes dancing in the morning summer sun. His face was almost completely covered with a tattoo of a black spider web, and the rest of his slim frame was inked with spiders of all shapes and sizes. Despite the intimidating exterior, the man was a mushy marshmallow inside, and Mirrie knew it. “Breakfast?” he teased her. “You know it.” He shook his dark head. “Yeah, sure, grab a few. You need a coffee?” “Many,” Mirrie responded, her mouth already full of cookie. “Many, oh-so-many coffees.”

None of it was about him, after all; none of it was going to change his life. But it could change Leeza’s life, maybe give her some semblance of peace. It could change the lives of the thousands of the Worthingtons’ victims. And if he did it right, it could change Claire and Wilbur’s lives. For the worse. Refocused now, Griff glanced at the spider tattoo guy again, and was startled when he saw that the man was over at Claire’s table, just chatting away amiably. A bit stunned that an uptown girl like Claire would have anything to say to Spiderman – even considering that she was in hiding and almost two thousand miles from Park Avenue – Griff settled himself in his chair and observed them.

It was cold and lifeless. I can’t do it, she thought. I’m just a character made of ink. Then something moved in her pocket. It wasn’t the key. She reached into her other pocket and pulled out the dried lemon flower. Small and crumpled, it looked worthless. But when the shadow-spider’s thread touched it, the flower transformed into a sharp golden needle. Maya rammed the needle into the spider’s eye. The creature collapsed into a puddle of black ink. Gasping, Maya searched for Julian. He was tumbling away, just a flickering spark in the dark.