Sergei Kravinoff stood in his hotel, after arriving in New York from his latest trip.
He pressed a button on a remote control and a cage opened across the room.
A large snake slithered it's way out.
When it saw Kravinoff, it stood up; unfolding it's hood.
The cobra then spat in Kravinoff's direction, but it missed him by many feet.
Kravinoff drew a gun that was strapped to his back.
The cobra moved forward, while standing, and spat again.
Kravinoff placed a bullet into the cylinder and loaded.
The cobra moved forward, again, and spat a third time. This time the venom was inches from Kravinoff's rugged boot.
Kravinoff snapped the barrow to the flintlock on, pulled the gun down to range, and fired.
The spitting cobra was launched into the air, crashing, across the room, dead.
Kravinoff smiled threw the smoke as he gathered the final cobra venom for his collection.
He now had all twenty-six types of they're poison.
This, however, wasn't much to gloat upon when compared to his other achievements. It was simply adding to it, making his knowledge and reputation still greater.
He came here for a real achievement, however. He had heard of a creature neither beast, nor man. Something monstrous that now roamed the city like a jungle.
This thing was what brought Sergei Kravinoff, sometimes called Kraven the Hunter, to New York City.
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Constrictoro gave up the chase for the lizard.
He was fast. But the lizard's speed was unmatchable.
He flipped the side of his arm and let the symbiote loose.
The symbiote spread across his hand, but couldn't grow any further.
Constrictoro merged himself with it to help it bind with him.
Thanks to the symbiote's substance, this took only seconds.
The symbiote turned green with chunks of crystal as Constrictoro took control of it.
The now dark green substance became slightly more solid and a lot harder.
---
A day later, the symbiote was ready to merge.
It's green color swarmed over Constrictoro's shape.
It didn't fully cover him, but formed more of a skeleton.
It wasn't yet ready to merge fully, but it was strong enough to be of some use.
Quite a bit of use.
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Spider-Man swung across the city, searching for any sign of Constrictoro or the lizard.
After searching for about eight hours, he decided to give it a rest for the day.
MJ had probably been calling him all day, wondering what happened.
---
The next day, Peter Parker walked to the Daily Bugle.
"Parker," Said a voice, "Were you in a coma? Or are you just deaf to what's been happening? Constrictoro trying to take over New York, wild animals and mad scientists, Spider-Man blowing boats to smithereens. I can't remember a better day for business!"
He turned to one of the employees.
"A name for this mini godzilla.", he ordered.
"Um, about that, Mr. Jamison" Said the employee. "People have kinda gotten content with just calling him 'The Lizard'."
Jamison swore threw a puff of smoke.
"'The Lizard'?! What kind of a crappy name is that? Parker, get me the Lizard, Constrictoro, and that spider psychotic either brutally massacring each other, or teaming up to destroy truth, justice and the world of journalism."
Peter made no sign to argue and left the building.
He went quickly back to his apartment and left it in his Spider-Man suit.
Soon afterward, he heard the familiar, yet unfamiliar, roar.
He swooped threw a street where he thought he heard it.
There, indeed, below him was the Lizard himself.
But before he could glide down to the thing, he felt a faint sting in his neck, and let go of the web, unable to move.
Something caught him and hit him against the wall.
"Your only paralyzed," Said a russian voice he was unfamiliar with, "For now. You may not know it, my wall-crawling friend, but Sergei Kravinoff hunts alone."