If you want to read up to 15+ chapters ahead go to my Patreón: Darkwolfest.
Special mentions:
•Dragon Cross
•AJ
•Benoît Valtin
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The dimly lit room was filled with the sound of clinking glasses and hushed conversations.
Suddenly, the bustling atmosphere came to an abrupt halt, and every eye in the bar turned toward the entrance.
A hulking figure clad in a dazzling white tuxedo suit strode in, his imposing presence causing a shiver to run down the spines of those present.
His golden cane tapped against the floor with an eerie rhythm, adding to the air of intimidation.
The bald-headed man's head gleamed under the focused light, reflecting his power and authority. Adorned with several ornate golden rings, he exuded an aura of wealth and dominance.
Caliban, undeterred by the palpable tension, approached the imposing figure with a calm smirk.
It was as if he was accustomed to such encounters.
"Well, what a pleasant surprise." Caliban greeted, his tone filled with a hint of amusement.
He led the big man towards a secluded booth, seemingly unfazed by the atmosphere.
"It's been a while since you graced us with your presence."
"It has Caliban." The big man gruffly acknowledged, following Caliban's lead. "Never thought I'd find myself walking through these doors again."
"Until you did." Caliban chuckled, settling himself onto a large sofa. "Which suggests that you're desperate."
The man growled, unable to hide his annoyance at Caliban's assessment.
"Have you noticed anything unusual about New York lately, Caliban?" He let out a sigh, diverting the conversation to a different topic.
"It's dangerously quiet." Caliban answered abruptly, his demeanor shifting to seriousness as he leaned in closer. "Why is it so quiet, Wilson?"
"The silence before the storm." Wilson responded. "The Maggia family has run out of patience."
"Huh." Caliban scoffed, reclining back into the cushion. "So New York is about to witness another territorial war."
"Possibly sooner than you think." Wilson cautioned. "The family is rife with infighting, each member vying for power like dogs waiting to sink their teeth into the spoils."
"And you have taken it upon yourself to reign them in." Caliban chuckled, completing Wilson's thought. "That's so like you."
"Someone has to keep them in check." Wilson shrugged. "Might as well be me."
"A territorial war would be good for business for me." Caliban sighed, pouring himself a glass of whisky. "But not so much for you. So, why are you here?"
"I'm here to hire a certain member of this establishment." Wilson revealed, earning a raised eyebrow from Caliban, who seemed amused by the request. "From the Manfredi job."
Caliban couldn't help but burst into laughter, setting down his drink and shaking with amusement.
"You do realize you're not the only one who would want to hire him, nor the only one who can afford him, right?" The gray-haired man stopped laughing and asked, his tone laced with doubt. He knew Wilson understood the demand and price tag that came with top-tier hitmen during gang wars.
Caliban was well aware that a man like Wilson Fisk had a deep understanding of how the criminal underworld operated; otherwise, he wouldn't have attained his current position of power.
"He's not a limited commodity, Caliban." Wilson replied firmly, narrowing his gaze. "I could hire a hundred men like him."
"And yet, here you are." Caliban smirked, a cheeky glint in his eyes. "There's a reason he rose to become a high-ranking assassin in just three months. I think you know that, which is why you want him, Fisk."
"Then I'm sure you can arrange it." Wilson leaned in closer, his determination evident.
"I can't make any promises, Wilson." Caliban sighed, downing the contents of his glass. "He usually takes one-time contracts and moves on once they're completed. But working for someone he doesn't know... well, it's uncertain."
"Then let me talk to him." Wilson demanded, his eyes narrowing further.
"Sure." Caliban nodded, reaching for his phone and dialing Venom's number.
---
-On the other side of New York-
"Pleeease." He pleaded like all the others, staring into the blank white eyes of Venom as the slimy symbiote slithered its tongue across his face, savoring the anticipation.
The mansion was a delightful scene of carnage and blood, with headless bodies arranged in a macabre pyramid nearby. Just another day in the office.
"Meat!" Venom squealed with delight before sinking its teeth into the man's head, causing crimson liquid to spray all over my face. I casually dropped the lifeless body, Venom retreating back into me.
I wiped the blood off my face as I strolled out of the mansion, unfazed by the mutilated and cold corpses strewn about.
This job had certainly given me a reputation I never asked for, but hey, it paid well.
I had a nice chunk of a million in my account, which was no small feat considering we're still in 2003.
Finding a suitable master or someone to learn from had proven to be a challenge, but I hadn't given up.
In the meantime, I continued honing my powers. If I wanted to acquire new skills, I needed to understand my own abilities better.
My mutation had proved to be more than just mind reading. It came with a nifty secondary mutation that acted like a stress dampener.
When the pressure was on or rage threatened to consume me, it dialed down my emotions, keeping me focused and calculating.
Not that it meant I became emotionless, just a little less touchy-feely.
The idea of seeking help from the X-Men had crossed my mind a few times, but things were getting tense for mutants.
Magneto was busy rallying his cause and the X-Men seemed to be doing the same.
Right now, joining them would be more trouble than it's worth.
But I digress. Besides my mutation, there was Venom. Its powers hadn't changed since the day it awakened: claws, teeth, enhanced stamina, agility, strength, reflexes, and let's not forget those oh-so-handy tentacles.
And No, they're not as flexible or versatile as those tentacles in certain... adult animations.
Sorry to disappoint.
Just as I was leaping across rooftops, the phone rang.
I paused atop a pizza joint and answered the call. It was Caliban on the other end.
"What?" I asked, eager to get back to my rooftop acrobatics.
"There's someone here who wants to hire you." Caliban informed me.
"Who?" I inquired, not one for small talk.
"Wilson Fisk." Came the reply. The name caught me off guard.
I had kept tabs on the future kingpin, as one does in this line of work.
I had analyzed him, learned about his ties to the Rigoletto family—the top dogs of the Maggia. It was surprising to find out he wasn't working solo like in the live-action.
"I'll be there in a minute." I responded, ending the call and picking up the pace.
Before long, I arrived at the bar. Fisk stood there, a towering presence that rivaled Venom's monstrous form like The Mountain from Game of thrones.
Caliban stood by his side but as soon as he caught sight of me, he gestured for Fisk to turn around. The man's gaze locked onto me as I made my way toward him.
Taking a moment to really look at him, I couldn't help but notice the resemblance to a younger Vincent D'Onofrio.
"Venom, Mr. Wilson Fisk." Caliban introduced, doing his hosting duties.
Wilson gave me an appraising look, his stern glare and imposing size likely enough to intimidate most, But not me—I wasn't one to be easily rattled.
I sat down on the cushion next to him, while Caliban discreetly retreated to his booth.
"I've heard about your little murder spree in Manfredi." Wilson began, his narrowed eyes fixated on my jacket. It seemed he wasn't particularly fond of my fashion sense. "Quite a scene you left behind."
"I like to keep my jobs tidy." I replied, unaffected. "So why are you here, Mr. Fisk?"
"The tides are shifting in New York. The Maggia is on the brink of collapse, and it's only a matter of time before some idiot starts a domino effect, plunging the city into another gang war." He revealed, attempting to intimidate me.
"Catastrophes like that can be quite lucrative for people like me." I added with a hint of sarcasm creeping into my voice.
Now, don't get me wrong—I'm not a heartless monster. I don't actually want a gang war, especially considering my only remaining family lives in Queens.
But sometimes, taking a defensive stance and making a profit is the best one can do.
"I can offer you a 500 grand advance and 300 for every kill." He offered, testing the waters.
"A million up front and 500 for every kill." I countered, watching his eyes widen as he scoffed out loud.
"And just who do you think you are? Hassain?" He scoffed, his fist clenched tightly. "I can hire a hundred guys for a million dollars."
"I understand you can hire a hundred guys for a million." I acknowledged. "But not me."
"Tell me, Mr. Fisk, why should I work for you? You're not even the head of a family. Everyone knows the Rigoletto family is rife with infighting. Frankly, I don't see much benefit in this deal other than the money. In fact, I might be better off offering my services to another family." I continued, a mischievous smile playing on my lips.
I knew exactly what I was doing, so did he, shifting the power dynamics of our conversation, a little lesson learned from Caliban during our brief time together.
"So, tell me, Mr. Fisk, why should I align myself with you?"
"Because you're cunning. Sure, the Maggia families have their power struggles, including the Rigolettos. But it's more of a duel than a battle royale. It's between me and the current incompetent head, and the rest of the family stands with me. It's just a matter of time before the heads of each family plunge into a full-scale war and the Rigolettos won't be any different. I'll lead them to victory. I don't need you to win this war, Mr. Venom, but if I did, you'd be a valuable asset."
"A million it is then." I said, grinning as he grumbled.
He rose slowly, without answering, and adjusted his suit before extending his hand.
"A million." He agreed and I shook his hand firmly.
He seemed to test my strength, squeezing tighter but I held my ground. He didn't flinch, only smiled.
It appeared that Venom and Fisk were evenly matched, at least for now.
"So, who's my first target?" I inquired as he began to walk away.
"The Karnellis." He ordered. "Make it slow. You have a month to hunt them down."
I nodded, growling softly as I watched his retreating broad shoulders.
"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Fisk."
And that's how kids I began working for the Kingpin.
If you want to read up to 15+ chapters ahead go to my Patreón: Darkwolfest.