Mayra's heart rate picked up, stomach twisting up, as the email shone up from her phone, devouring every piece of her sanity.

Her head spun, thoughts rapidly running to the warm smiles of her family and friends, out there in the unprotected world.

Mayra should've known.

She wasn't mugged in an alley, the guy who pulled her back, merely spoke a word, he had no reason to attack her and didn't demand her for the money. He just pulled her back, hit her head against the wall, and tried to drag Mayra away thinking, she was dead.

It was him.

Mayra's vision fuzzed and, she carefully dragged herself back to the sofa, waves of nausea drowning her, the fear in her heart crippling her. She clutched the pillow, her nails digging deep into the silk material as she lay her forehead against it. Thinking if she should show the email to everyone, thinking if she should go back and collect more proof, piece them up and trace the black van, thinking if she should just stop, send him an email saying she'd back off so that he could spare her family.

He was fast, almost as if he saw her walking out of the Metropolitan Correctional Center. Perhaps he had chased her down to the store?

He did know her, didn't he?

He said he had eyes around her.

Another wave of nausea thrashed her down into an ocean of fear and darkness. What if she knew him?

Panic took over her, breathing getting more rapid and shallow, her fingernails scraping the skin of her wrist, teeth sinking deep into her lips, drawing out blood, sweat forming over her palms and feet as she racked her head for a solution.

Surely this was supposed to be a nightmare, this couldn't be happening. Mayra closed her eyes, counted to a 10.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

Again.

She controlled her breathing and opened them up again, picking up her phone, hoping that it was a hallucination, but the email lay there in her inbox, staring at her, the white light piercing daggers into her soul as death slowly took her over.

In frustration she picked the pillow, and threw it against the wall, slid her phone to the furthest end of the sofa, and took another gulp of water, hating how she'd gotten herself into such a complicated situation. None of this would have ever happened if Mayra would've just done her homework peacefully last night. Ignoring the questions that bounced in her head and ignoring the urge to prove herself.

And with a busy and racing mind, she made a decision, undoubtedly a reckless one, undoubtedly a risky one, undoubtedly a one that would seal her doom.

Mayra raced to the office, desperately trying to call Mr. Fuller for help, because that seemed like the only logical option, didn't it? Or should she sit back and let the games take their place? No, that was too risky. Maybe she was a coward, a wimp, weak and powerless but, nothing mattered more to her than her family, and she knew if she got help at this very moment, he could be stopped. Her family could be saved, Blake's family could be saved, and he'd be where he belonged.

Another notification from her phone set her heart racing with apprehension. This time it was a voice mail. Mayra hesitantly played it, her dark eyes concentrating on the roads ahead, her fingers gripping the steering wheel like it was her lifeline.

"If I were you, I'd listen to my orders, because I am psychotic, a man with no heart, no soul, but a man who has eyes everywhere," A tampered robotic voice came out.

Mayra slowed down, drowning out the honks of the vehicles behind her and shouts of angry pedestrians, fear like never before instilled in her. Bones going ice cold, heart thundering against her chest, and more blood drawing out from her lips as she bit it off.

"Miss Julia Otters seem like a lovely person, what a shame you're fucked in the head," he said smugly, a static sound followed after.

"No, don't you fucking dare!" Mayra yelled, backing up her car, blinking out the tears as she realized she was screaming at a voice mail. He couldn't hear her cowardly pleas, begging him to spare her mom's life.

It would hurt less if she was shot just after she stepped out of Mickey's Comics. Her world blurred, stark terror gripping her like a tornado, swirling her in an endless pool of fear and cowardice.

Mayra had messed up, and she'd messed up bad. Blake had warned her, and she didn't listen. Her ambition dangled her like a ragged doll from the edge of a rock, standing tall in the crashing waters of the ocean. Threatening to drop her into those fiery cold waves that would drown her and bury her under the ocean.

She raced to Mechatech, weaving through the cars, slamming the breaks, and shouting at people to hurry up as she called her mom. The world blurring around her, with the tears brimming her eyes.

"H-hello? Mom?" Mayra asked, desperation and fear running deep through her voice.

"Hey, sweetheart? What's wrong?" Her mom questioned, irked by the shakiness of her voice.

"Where are you?" Mayra demanded sternly, dodging a truck coming right at her.

"I'm at the office. Why? Is everything ok?"

"Stay there, with people, do you hear me? Don't go anywhere by yourself? I'll pick you up, ok?" Mayra practically begged as she spoke through the sobs.

"But-"

Mayra dropped the conversation, having no guts to explain to her mother the kind of situation she got herself in. She harshly wiped the tears off her cheeks as they stung the scarred area. And drove as if she was racing into battle, saving the only world she knew.

As Mayra neared the bustling building, rising high in the sky, she spotted her mom wearing a look of concern and surrounded by her colleagues. A light smile formed on her lips, her heart jumping with happiness, peace spreading throughout her mind at the sole vision of her.

Julia got in, slamming the door as she bid goodnights to her colleagues, now facing Mayra. The blue hues of her eyes swimming with the greys as she saw Mayra with concern, "What's wrong?"

Mayra gulped down the lump forming in her throat, blinking away the tears, and drank water to stall for time, "I-uh-I was mugged, and um I got really-really scared and, I needed you," Mayra spat out another lie. She was getting good at it. She'd lie about five times a day now and would get away with it without anyone seeming to even bat an eye. Her heart couldn't bear the burden she'd put on her mom if she spilled it. Mayra pushed her thick black curls back, giving her mom the view of the bandaged wound on her head, eliciting a worried gasp from her.

And then her ears bared the lectures her mom gave on the way back home, but she found peace in it. Peace in the way how her mom's words lulled her mind to calm flurries instead of raging storms, peace in how her voice would plant little sunflowers in Mayra's heart instead of the growing thorns, peace in how her ocean eyes would look into Mayra's obsidian ones and they'd reassure her that the world was fine.

And Mayra felt horrible, devastated, disgusted, and disappointed in her. How she'd get again managed to get her family's safety compromised with her, how she'd been recklessly dumb as the urge to prove herself ran wild through her blood. It would now haunt her for her life, killing her sanity, shredding it into pieces, bit by bit in a slow choreographed dance. And then all there would be left of hers is her madness.

They drove back home, and though Mayra hadn't seen him, she knew he was grinning like a devil. And he knew her weaknesses, he hit them with his first blow. And she couldn't dodge it.

It was as if Mayra had been cornered in the alley again, the very same one she'd beat him in. But now, he was towering over her, the dagger sticking out from her gut. The pain was intolerable, but he wanted her to suffer, and so he left it in her. To paint her bloody portrait just to please his psychopathic soul.

No, he wouldn't let her die, it was personal now, she was on her way to destroy his fun, but now he'd sworn on the evilest devils of Tartarus that he'd destroy her world. And he'd sworn on the fires devouring souls that she'd live to watch every second of the destruction.

Even if Mayra tried to take the dagger in her and remove it, he'd stitch her up, and drive it right back in.

But she'd brought it upon herself. Mayra could back away, give up. Beg him to leave her alone, but then, she'd be his accomplice in so many other murderers.

"I'm driving you today," Mayra said nonchalantly, the next morning.

The wind blew the crisp orange leaves around the skies, which were painted with hues of blues and puffs of white scattering across it.

"What? Why?" Her mom questioned, as she stared with concern at her daughter. She stopped in her tracks as Mayra got into the driver's seat, waiting for her mom to hop in.

"Well, y'know, you're working with THE Tony Stark, and that's quite a big deal, he attracts a lot of...interesting people?" Mayra said, her eyes fleeting to her phone every other second, hoping that she'd not get another email and wishing that yesterday was all a nightmare.

It wasn't though, Mayra had nightmares based on the events of the previous day that rattled her soul. Mayra's night was spent clutching her blanket as the helpless tears soaked her pillow and, her breathing kept getting stuck in her throat.

"I'll be fine Mayra, you'll get late," Mom said, waiting for Mayra to hop out of the car.

"No mom-"

"Mayra, seriously, what is up with you? You've been acting off lately," though it did come off as a bit stern and annoyed, it was still heavily laced with concern.

"It's nothing really, I'm just tired," Mayra said, and that wasn't a lie.

"Is it about yesterday?" Her mom asked, getting into the passenger seat, knowing Mayra was too stubborn when she'd made her mind. All Mayra did was nod, trying not to let the memories of yesterday raid her head. She then drove in silence, listening to her mom trying to help her out and blast Mayra's favorite music to make her feel better.

Dropping her mom and the car at Mechatech, she walked to the nearest subway station, waiting for the train to arrive. Her heart was still wrapped up in worries and frustration as her mind had no idea how to solve this complicated piece of the problem that could destroy her.

The same subway which she took from her home, whizzed past her, while she drowned the energetic and normal world around her.

It was funny in some odd twisted way, she thought, how Mayra had the worst of the wars raging in her head and, these innocent people who had no idea of the incoming battles could be its victims if she didn't stop him.

A small tap on her shoulder landed her into defensive mode. Whipping her head towards the right, she saw the inviting brown eyes softly glimmering with warmth, a gentle smile covering his face.

"Oh, Peter, it's you," Mayra said, her heart now attaining a calm pace.

"You're at a different stop today," Peter observed, pushing his hands inside the pockets of his hoody.

"Yeah, um, I had to drop my mom to work, left the car there cause she'd be home before me, and...yeah," Mayra said with a small smile, but a frown of worry immediately took its place as she thought about her mom driving alone back home.

She scanned around the train, trying to spot MJ and Riley, but it was likely they'd be on some different sub considering Peter and MJ's breakup, which had left Peter with a sleepless night, the proof of that being his sunken eyes.

"They never really take the sub, their car was at service yesterday," Peter said, reading Mayra's mind.

The soft glimmer of warmth in his honey brown eyes was now replaced with a melancholy shade of darkness. Jaw clenched as he spoke about them. His curls were scattered, wildly flying with the light breeze that escaped from the vents of the train.

"Just so you know, you're always welcome to have cookies at my house," Mayra offered with a smile.

Peter mirrored her smile, chuckling, his gaze was then directed towards her head. "How is your head?"

"Yeah it's good," Mayra replied half-heartedly. She didn't care about her broken head when he or anyone around her could be in potential danger of being murdered in an alley.

"How was patrol?" She asked, running her hand along the cold metal of the pole.

"Not that eventful, stopped a bunch of muggers, that's it," Peter shrugged, moving closer to her as another crowd of stressed-out New Yorkers boarded the train.

"You're having a bad hair day," Mayra snickered as Peter's rogue curl danced over his forehand, standing tall amongst all.

"I've been picking up from the best," Peter's lips curled into a smirk, as his honey golden eyes ran over her hair. The dark locks falling out messily from her braid.

"Fuck off," Mayra jokingly gave a light push at his shoulder.

Mayra and Peter talked until they reached the station, where they were greeted by her friends.

"Who's that boyfriend of yours, girl?" Ethan asked with a smirk, earning a light slap from Crystal on his shoulder while Mayra threw her head back and let out a groan.

"I'm sorry if they say anything that makes you uncomfortable, they don't really care," Mayra whispered as she watched Peter's expression turn into a nervous one.

"Just kidding, we're chill, Peter Parker, right?" Ethan apologized as Peter nodded awkwardly.

His eyebrows twisted in confusion, probably wondering why all of her friends knew about him.

And Mayra understood their eagerness and excitement but, she wasn't going to let her forts down for a heartbroken guy.

Eddie and her mom were probably the only ones who understood why. They were there with her when she was crushed under the pieces of her broken heart at seventeen.

After that, she never tested the waters, too scared to be left under dust once again.

"How are you?" Ethan turned, asking Mayra as she responded to him with a weak thumbs up.

Ethan's eyes focused on her forehead, squinting as he saw the white bandage peeping out of the hair which so conveniently hid it. "Bitch, you cracked your head?"

"What?" Crystal asked as she examined Mayra. Eddie pushed back the curtain of hair that hid Mayra's forehead, seeing the bandage resting over it, his faded brown eyes demanding an explanation.

"I fell down the stairs," Mayra internally sighed, another lie spewing out of her mouth.

"Um no you didn-" Peter was stopped from saying anything more as Mayra tugged at the sleeve of his hoody, her eyes warning him to not utter another word further.

"When will you ever stop getting into trouble?" Eddie said rhetorically.

Mayra just chuckled in response, knowing it would be a long time before she'd be getting out of it.

"I made you notes for the classes you missed yesterday, though," Eddie said, handing her a bunch of papers and assignments, a gentle smile caressing his lips.

"Thanks, bro," Mayra said, examining the questions but then immediately shoving them back in her bag as they gave her a headache.

They walked to the campus, goofing off, chattering about all sorts of weirdness in the world. And under the sunlight, under the wintry cyan sky, under the voices of the people Mayra held most close to, she almost forgot her hunter.

But she'd made up her mind long ago, Mayra would go to every length to protect her family. And she'd try everything that was in reach to catch him but also without compromising the safety of her family.

And that would be nearly impossible. The only way to do that was to let him think she was his puppet, that she was his bloody portrait before she snapped the strings and broke his brushes.

So let the games begin.

a/n: i had such massive fun writing the past few chapters, this chapter however, i feel fell a bit dry? idk, most of it's a filler, but i hope you guys are curious for what's in store for the next coming chapters. anyways, ily all so fucking much. take care of yourself, stay hydrated, have good sleep, eat well, and do everything that makes you happy. feel free to comment mwah!!!