May I just mention that I can't imagine the movie Kingpin in this story. Kingpin is an impossibly massive creature as in the comics. But you feel free to go with what works for you, thanks. Oh, you may notice a lack of Jean Grey here. She simply had no place in this story for me so… sorry about that. If you need me to justify it then… She's in the UK with Dr. Moira MacTaggert to assess her leap of evolution caused by Magneto's machine on Liberty Island. There ya go. Enjoy!

- Marvel Heroes -

-- Night Falls on Kingpin --

New York City as night fell. In the twilight her towers looked like the spines of a giant sleeping dragon bathed in blinking firefly. Maybe not to everyone who saw it. But to Wilson Fisk it certainly did. He stood at the plate window of his top-floor office in secret. His frame outlandish in size. A man-mountain of hardened fat and muscle. The Kingpin of crime.

The room was unlit save for the moonlight that gave a blue glow to just a small area from the window edge to the side door entrance. There came a knock and the door opened at a grunt from Fisk. His aid entered and placed a security photo on his huge steel and glass desk.

The Kingpin turned his enormous fat head.

"There's an Asian guy hanging around the lobby, sir."

Kingpin took the photo-capture in his large hands and examined its every detail.

He threw the image down. It was Takeshi Shibasaki.

"He's expected," the big man thundered.

For a moment the aid's attention was drawn to a darkened corner of the office by the window. Nothing was visible there and he continued; "Funny thing, though. According to records, he's a ghost. Thought you should know."

Fisk nodded and the aid left. Kingpin approached his trusted Chief of Guards – Stonewall – and handed him the photo. He wasn't such a big man as Kingpin but by any other standard he was a big African muscle-tank of a human.

"Go down to the lobby and bring this man to my office," he commanded. As an after-thought he added, "Gently."

Stonewall went.

Kingpin returned to his window and the City he would soon own again.

---------------

Stonewall escorted Takeshi into the stark metallic office and Fisk signalled him to leave.

"You're late." Kingpin's voice was not angry. He continued to stare out the window with the moonlight glaring off his smooth scalp.

Takeshi pulled himself together a little. He turned to the darkened corner by the window and bowed at the shadows with respect then returned his attention to Mr. Fisk.

"Blade trouble," he put simply with no accent. "I'm here now."

"I was expecting three of you."

"Like I said – Blade trouble. 'Sides, I'm the only one you need. What's the gig?"

Kingpin rolled his massive form around to face Shibasaki. "I understand that you have connections… in certain circles."

"You mean the Vampire community."

Fisk ignored the absurd word they used for their diseased species and clarified; "I need you to arrange a party for an old nemesis of mine."

Takeshi noticed the ashtray on Fisk's desk and lit a small cigar. "This 'Daredevil' character? The guy who put you behind bars?"

"You've done your homework. I like that."

"You have a plan?"

Kingpin pushed the ashtray forward. "An associate of mine was cleared today of a serious crime. One he committed, of course. It was all very public. Lots of newspaper coverage. It won't take long for Daredevil to deliver his own justice."

"And the party?"

Kingpin handed Takeshi a folded notepaper. "The location my associate will be later tonight when Daredevil makes his move."

Takeshi gaped. "Tonight?"

"Yes, tonight. I want you there… with all your friends."

Takeshi weighed his chances and took a risk, "Well I want all three cuts of the cash."

Fisk didn't bat an eyelid. "Agreed." He pointed Takeshi to a briefcase on the table. The young vampire took it.

"I also heard that you can identify this guy," Takeshi said. "Why don't you take him out when he's least expecting it?"

Fisk's severe face showed the first flash of anger. "My grievance isn't with the man behind the mask. I want Daredevil."

Takeshi shrugged. "So, I better go organise a going-away party. Make some connections."

"Be sure he dies!" Fisk insisted. "I want him overwhelmed."

"What about your associate?"

Fisk grinned. "…Enjoy him."

Takeshi smiled, bowed, and left the office.

Kingpin returned to the window again.

"I hope he is more resourceful than he appears," he said to the air.

A face revealed itself from the shadows in the darkened corner. A much older Japanese man with swept back whitened hair and a yellowed set of lengthy fangs.

"We have an arrangement, Mr Fisk. I will deliver the head of Daredevil. …In return, you will deliver the corpse of Blade to me."

Kingpin breathed in with the wonderful thought of it. "And when Daredevil is taken care of… I can focus on another problem… Spider-Man."

---------------

-- Night Falls on Spider-Man --

"As I was saying," Spider-Man lashed out with a punch, "and now that punk's got the very city I protect pressing charges against her!"

In the clasp of his other hand, a severely beaten thug whined. They were just two storeys up above the jewellery store the guy had been robbing. The night was cool and quiet.

Spidey bopped him in the face again. The thug shook it off.

Spidey shrugged casually; "I mean, what am I supposed to do?" He took his frustration, channelled it into his fist, and bopped the thug again on the nose.

Suddenly, the bleeding man pushed him away and made a dash for it.

"Hey…" Spidey spun and barred him with a reverse clothesline.

The thug fell to the floor and spotted his loot and gun.

"…I'm not through yet."

Out of shear desperation, the man leapt up with the bag of loot in one hand and the revolver in the other. "I am!" he cried out, waving the gun about. "You're crazy!" The man spasmed into a crazy-dance and had a giddy-fit, hurling the gun at Spider-Man. Spidey caught it. It was followed by the loot. And the thug ran away squealing.

Spidey watched him go, stunned. "…um…"

The guy kept going until he flipped over the edge of the roof and clattered into a bursting pile of trash. A loud groan came rising up from the street.

Spidey looked about awkwardly. "…okay…"

He became alert suddenly. There was danger close-by. He dropped the gear and twirled around.

"Uh-oh. Trouble's brewin'."

A few spider-leaps later and he was at the higher position of a low scraper. Looking down, he saw a long flat warehouse. It was closed but looked recently worked in.

"I don't see anything. …But my spider-sense is tingling. Better take a closer look."

Spidey reached forth. With a flick of his wrist, a line of web fired away and he swung into the heart of danger.

---------------

-- Night Falls on Daredevil --

Baiter flicked a thumb and his zippo lighter ignited. The scrawny, fierce-looking man, bathed in moonlight, lit the crooked role-up cigarette between his thin lips. He took a drag and scanned around. The name Baiter wasn't really his. It was Kingpin's code name for him tonight. And he didn't like it one bit. It sounded too… disposable. But bait he was. And you don't argue with the Kingpin.

A shadow fell across him and he looked upward to see a figure standing on a rooftop – the moon a halo around his horned skull.

Daredevil!

Baiter wasn't psyched. He wasn't ready. He panicked, dropped the cigarette and ran.

The cigarette landed with a flash of embers and Daredevil's feet impacted into the tarmac, crushing the smoke. The red avenging Devil straightened and turned toward the fleeing villain.

---------------

Daredevil burst through a warehouse door into a dark corridor. He stopped. All was silent. For Daredevil, the faint pulsing of his heartbeat gave the room a vagueness that didn't quite create a crisp image he could work with. He drew a baton from his leg brace and moved it across the wall until it met with a metal pipe running up from the floor. He cracked the baton against it and the blackness behind his dead eyes was invaded by a rolling pulse that gave the corridor dimension.

The corridor ran off to the left. He followed it.

Soon he found himself in a much larger section. Sounds were minimal. There was a breeze outside that rattled the corrugated roof. It seemed to be a high roof. There was a hole in it somewhere because he heard the light wind pushing gently through it. A small object, he sensed a roof bolt, fell through the gap. Now he knew there was a walkway on a second level. It was clear he was in a large storage facility. He didn't smell any–

His senses corrected him. A woman was there. Right in front of him. He could smell her scent. It gave her dimension. She was standing, sexy, in a provocative dress. On her head she wore Halloween horns and she twirled a fabric devil tail in her hand.

The evening had taken a surreal turn. He sensed nothing relevant there and he made to exit. That was when sounds began to open up the world around him.

Two burly men blocked his path with a hissing that lit up the sharp teeth in their mouths. Then he smelt blood… and a slurping sound that drew him back into the warehouse.

Behind the devil-girl, he could now sense the man he was chasing.

Baiter lay immobile, slack, unfeeling, neck ravaged, in the arms of another man. A man with the scent of blood on him. A man with long hair, many piercings and a thick wet beard. A man with a wide-open maw… and fangs. Huge, dripping canines.

The Devil stiffened. "What the…?" He drew a second baton and, reluctantly, he bashed them together.

The warehouse lit up violently and he saw it all. His breath caught dryly in his throat.

Men with guns. Cold creatures with no pulse. A hundred. Maybe more.

He tried to remember he was the Man Without Fear.

A voice in the crowd called out; "That's the guy!"

The Devil felt Hell descend upon him.

---------------

-- Night Falls: X-Men Scramble --

"The whole site at Alkali Lake was levelled," Logan was saying from his seat in the den of the X-Mansion. Storm was on the couch across the room and the professor sat in his wheelchair beside him.

"Nothing?" Storm asked, surprised.

Xavier sensed something and suddenly raised his head to the doorway.

Scott entered in a hurry; "I just intercepted a 911 callout–"

"–To a possible hostile gathering in the City," Xavier finished.

Scott nodded. "Right. The police have no free units to investigate."

Storm turned expectantly to Xavier. "Professor?"

He gave a nod of approval and Storm set off to ready the jet.

Logan watched her go and creased an eyebrow. "Since when did the X-Men work crowd-control?"

Xavier returned the hint of a smile.

"Coming, Logan?" Scott invited.

He looked to Xavier for his opinion but the professor was leaving that decision to him. Logan regarded his fists in consideration. To Scott it looked like he needed to vent some anger.

"Why not?" Logan said at last. "I could use the exercise."

They began to leave for duty.

In passing, Scott added; "I noticed."

---------------

Belts buckled. Zips fastened. Boots went on and hands were shoved into tight leather gloves.

Scott replaced his shades with the one-eyed visor.

Storm threw on her mini-cape and assembled with Cyclops and Rogue.

SHING

The trio turned to see Logan in the black leather X-suit examining his claws.

Rogue's heart heaved with joy. "Look out, baddies, Wolverine's in town tonight."

They moved into the hanger bay beneath the basketball court.

"I'll start her up," said Storm, moving up the ramp into the jet. Rogue followed her up.

Cyclops and Wolverine stopped in the doorway.

Scott regarded Logan in the uniform. "Looks a little tight. …Too much Canadian steak up north?"

The Wolverine growled back at him.

Scott's mouth burst into a great fat smile.