Hey-o! This one-shot takes place after "Graduation Day!" So our character's are moving on with their lives! :D But that's not what this is about. You'll see!

It was an unnaturally cold night in New York City.

The glow of the city wasn't enough to warm it tonight. Despite the best efforts of wires and bulbs, frost swept through the buildings, painting autumn-hued leaves in white, scratching up dark window panes, and nipping at every piece of flesh vulnerable to the cold. Normally, the temperature hovered around chilly, but tonight Mother Nature must've decided it just wasn't enough.

The wind sliced like icy-steel blades through the streets, frightening loose pieces of garbage to hide across roads and down alleyways. The cold adversary crept up on the unsuspecting crowds of civilians as they made their way through the city.

Few people took the warmer option and remained in the safe arms of their houses, which was the smart thing to do. Because it wasn't just the suddenly threatening presence of the cold that had them locking their doors and glancing wearily out their windows, oh no – it was something else. Something a little more...sinister.

They were unsure of what it was, but they could feel it. A chilling force that seemed to scratch their backs with fingers of keened ice, the pressing notion that you weren't as alone as you thought you were. Something that sent patches of paranoia across your skin. Sometimes, if you looked too closely, for too long, it seemed as though someone – something – was lurking in the shadows, stalking its prey with eyes as cold and cruel as the buffeting winds.

You see, something particularly evil infected the atmosphere of the city that night. Something New York, though oblivious to the source, wasn't quite sure was human.

And it emanated from a particular street in the Greenwich Village of NYC. Bleeker street, to be precise, through the magically placed defenses set up around building 117A. On the outside, it gave the appearance of an old, abandoned townhouse, decrepit and isolated. But those aware of its deceptions could tell you that the building, in fact, was the sanctum of the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and past its illusions became a towering edifice of elaborate terraces, glowing windows, and menacing gargoyles.

Unbeknowest to the hoards passing obliviously along the streets, a terrible occurrence had been hosted inside that very building, just moments before when the moon above was at its highest. Now, through the darkening shadow's, eyes of bloodlust and rage tracked their movements wearily.

A figure moved its body along the long wall of the Sanctum, pushing away from it when it was strong enough to reach the next building. Just being near that magician left a distasteful taste on its tongue, and its bitterness toward the magic encasing its soul worsened. The same magic that, for several years now, had been its prison. The sorcerer within, however powerful he was, did not know it had escaped yet. Was unaware that it had even been trapped in his haven at all.

But it was only a matter of time before the great Dr. Strange realized something was offset with this universe and would go seeking its source.

It - no, he. It was a he.

He did not want to be around when that happened.

Getting away was harder than he thought it'd be, though. Every step felt like fire engulfing his embodiment, however thin and weak as it was, searing him down to his very soul and threatening to leave him as nothing but a pile of ash.

Only difference is that his ash would not be seen. It'd be sucked back into the swirling vortex of his prison, doomed to spend how many more years in torment as his atoms are ripped apart and sewn back together in a painful cycle that never found an end. No, he would not go back.

At least, not without killing the person that put him in such a state. His revenge, like an insatiable thirst, had been the only thing keeping him going. A centering factor that kept him grounded for years, helping him endure the agony with the sweet, sinister promise of making him pay.

It was this same promise that whispered to him now, giving him the strength to put one foot after the other, as he hobbled away from the accursed Sanctum.

He kept near the shadows, despite the ghoulish transparency of his limbs. But when he paused to lean against the wall of some restaurant, with a start he found himself stumbling. With a grunt, he landed on his knees, relieved that he didn't sink straight through the ground, but riled that his arm was beginning to fade. He watched as it became so painfully thin that he could barely make out an outline before it gained hazy solidity again. He was like a walking cloud - not, not even a cloud. A piece of fading mist, dreadfully close to being whisked away if so much as one rays of sunlight hit him. If he was not careful, he would fade all-together.

When his arm was back, he weakly got back to his feet, putting his hand on the wall more timidly. Nearby, a beaten alleycat turned as he approached, back arching and hair-raising, mewling a throaty warning at him even though the cat couldn't see him.

He kept going, ignoring the feline as it scampered away on a limping leg.

He was stopped, however, when a flood of light spilled onto the hard ground, stopping just a few inches shy of where he stood. A figure bumbled out, wearing the white shirt of a waiter and carrying large garbage bags in each hand.

The man, or more appropriately, the boy, didn't notice him as he dumped the trash bags in hand in the dumpster. The boy shivered against the shrill cold as he nudged the dumpster shut, and with his arms hugging his shoulders tightly, he marched back toward the door.

The figure watched him interestedly, regarding the boys ease at movements jealously. What he wouldn't give to have its strength back, to no longer be reduced to such a weak, pathetic creature. To be able to wrap his hands around boy's neck and feel the pulse flickering under his grip.

As if sensing his thoughts, the winds picked up, and the door creaked slightly as it was shifted. The boy looked up again, regarding at the door in childish paranoia. But he scoffed just as quickly and grabbed the door, rolling his eyes at his own naivety, when he looked up.

The boys' eyes met his own, and the boy froze as if the cold had finally seeped into his joints and hardened them in ice. His face paled and his eyes widened, shimmering with innocence and fear. With a thrill of excitement that sent tingles in his fingertips, the figure realized the boy could see him.

The figure grinned, wondering just what the boy saw.

The ashen cloak falling off his shoulders, disgusting and ratty in a reflection of his physical state. Did he see the spider marked on the fabric of his chest, gleaming haughtily in the light? Did the red lenses of his mask, while numb to his eyes and face, stare into the boys with a glint malevolence.

Or did the boy see something else? Pale, grey skin, like a walking skeleton. Black and red eyes with only hatred to give it life. The wide, terrifying grin of a hunter who'd just found a target?

Whatever it was, it froze the boy stiff.

But the figure felt his body flicker, like static to a TV, and he felt itself fall transparent again. His moment solidity gone.

The boy blinked, mouth falling open, as a creature of nightmares vanished right before his eyes. He blinked again, slapped a hand over his head as if to knock sense into his brain, and slammed the door shut, expression still one of abashed fright.

Chuckling, the figure moved forward, passing from shadows to shadow, alley to alley, getting as far from his would-be prison as he could manage.

Although the abundancey of New York felt his presence, as the night progressed and he traveled deeper into the heart of the city, the lurking presence seemed to fade. A fleeting shadow that might never had been there at all, leaving the city plagued with nothing but the demeaning cold and the faint warning that, while you couldn't see it, a predator - a wolf - was on the hunt.

Bada-Bing-Bada-Boom!

Tada! :D I hope it was obvious who it was, but just in case it was unclear, that was Wolf SPider. There is a 98.89% chance that there will be a second part to this, I just don't know when it will be posted.

But this was fun to finish! I had it sitting in my files forever, just collecting dust. XD Hope you enjoyed! 

-OfficialUSMWriter