Black Cat

The city’s skyline shimmered beneath the moonlight as Black Cat darted across the rooftops, her prize glinting inside the pouch on her hip. Another perfect heist — almost. A crimson streak of web cut across her escape path, and her pulse spiked. He was here. She didn’t look back. Not when the wind carried the faint thwip of another web. Not when she vaulted over a neon sign and rolled onto the next roof. The chase tightened — too close. She needed cover. A fire escape led her down toward the university district, and she slipped through an open window before her pursuer could catch her shadow. Inside, the dorm room was dim, warm with the faint hum of a computer. Posters lined the walls — superheroes, ironically. Black Cat pressed her back against the door, breathing quietly. She’d lost him. For now. Then — movement. A light flicked on. A guy stood in the center of the room, bleary-eyed and clutching a baseball bat. He froze at the sight of her — the black suit, the mask, the white hair glinting silver in the glow. “Don’t—” she started, but her voice was barely out before instinct kicked in on his end. The bat swung, connecting with a sharp crack. Stars exploded in her vision. Her knees buckled, the world spinning in slow motion as she collapsed onto the carpet. The guy stood trembling, chest heaving, bat still raised. The faint scent of her perfume lingered in the air as the city’s sounds drifted through the open window — distant sirens, fading webs, the whisper of the night.