GENESIS: PROLOGUE

A harsh light brings Daily Bugle editor-in-chief Robbie Robertson back to consciousness, and as he begins to slowly gain his bearings, it becomes immediately clear that things are looking rather bleak.

Tied to a chair in the middle of what appears to be a warehouse, Robbie knows there's no way for him to escape. He winces in pain and can taste dried blood in his mouth. As he looks around, he realises his left eye has almost swollen completely shut.

"I gotta' hand it to ya, your goons did a real number on me." Robbie spits out into the darkness. He can't see much in front of him due to the dimly lit environment, but he can feel the presence of someone else with him; given his predicament, he knows whoever is hiding in the shadows is no friend.

Robbie tries to recollect how he found himself in this situation, but his memory fails him for the most part. He remembers leaving the Bugle offices way after everyone else had left for the weekend, and seems to recall a flashing sensation of pain in his head before everything became hazy. The blow to the back of the head had floored him, and Robbie knew that he had instinctively covered up best he could, to little use. The quick beating had seemingly rendered him unconscious, and now he found himself at someone's mercy, or lack thereof.

Robbie had been in the editorial game for long enough to recognise this was no simple mugging or random attack; he was either jumped by a gang, perhaps as revenge for a "hit-piece" of some kind, or this was the work of organised crime, presumably for the same reason. Robbie had never minced words, and was proud of the work he put out during special features in the Bugle; people deserved to know the truth about what was happening on the streets or in the shadows.

Speaking of shadows, he began to make out two individuals standing in front of him, about two meters apart from one another. They slowly stepped forward as the light reflected off their faces, and Robbie immediately recognised both.

"Shit… you had these two guys keeping tabs on me or something?" Robbie called out, knowing damn well that the two men in front of him certainly weren't pulling the strings here - but chances are, the real puppet master was still present all the same, just still hidden.

"Please Mr Robertson," a smooth voice Robbie didn't recognise called out from behind him, "My associates Mr Sytsevich and Mr Schultz were only sent this evening to collect you for our rendezvous… Instead, it has been a close personal friend of mine who has been 'keeping tabs' on you as you put it, for the last several weeks in fact. I hope this in itself shows you how very important our meeting is to me."

Robbie found himself chuckling. "I'm honored… so how about you show yourself and tell me what the hell you want?"

A quiet, dry laugh followed from the unknown third man. "In such a rush! Very well…"

Before Robbie realises what is happening, Herman Schultz storms forward with a taser. Robbie knows Schultz for being busted on several bank robberies, only to either be let out on good behaviour in record time, or one time, let off completely due to 'insufficient evidence'. Before he can begin bargaining or pleading, the searing pain of 50,000 volts makes its way through his entire body. Whilst lasting a handful of seconds, it feels like an eternity, and all Robbie sees is Schultz, smiling the entire time.

"Ya might not think it Mr Reporter, but I get a real kick outta' dishing out this kinda' punishment," Schultz grins.

"Shocking…" Robbie replies, his head and body slumped over.

He hears Schultz walk away, and just when he thinks he'll be given a reprieve, muscle-head Alexei Sytsevich comes charging over. Robbie had heard about this lunkhead, tearing up shit all across town. Freakishly strong, he knew what was coming.

What follows is a slow, sustained beating. This clearly isn't Sytsevich's first rodeo at having his way with someone tied to a chair - helpless and defenceless - as he systematically brutalises Robertson; kidney blows that would down even the toughest of men, a cracked cheekbone and a broken nose later, and the punishment stops - for now.

Robertson's head and body again hang low, blood dripping from his mouth, not doubt the cause of internal bleeding. He tries his damnedest to sit up-right, and for a brief second, he catches a glimpse of presumably the third man who has taken a few steps toward the light. The Bugle editor can't make out who the guy is, but he is a class above Schultz and Sytsevich - whilst those two are dressed in casual clothes, presumably to blend in, this puppet-master appears to be dressed to the nines. Based on his choice of clothes, he wouldn't look out of place in a Hugo Boss advertisement.

"Mr Robertson, I do hope that my men have made my position perfectly clear, but in case they haven't, I'll be blunt…"

Robbie lifts his head and can see the guy a bit better the closer he's walked forward - white suit, black tie, and a cane. Diamond on his left pinky finger. His face is still obscured but Robbie doubts he'd recognise this prick anyway.

"Cease to publish stories of Spider-Man's antics. I know your partner at the Daily Bugle, Mr Jameson, is not fond of the wall-crawling freak, but he allows you some creative reign to spin him into some sort of hero. Such stories are not good for my business."

Robbie thinks about asking what business that would be, but he knows. Schultz and Sytsevich aren't low-level crooks, they're well-connected. Them being here, especially with someone who has an active vendetta against not only the Bugle but also Spider-Man points to one thing - organised crime, at the highest level.

"From now on, I want the Daily Bugle to discredit Spider-Man's every action. Drum up tension, stir the public up into a hate mob. Instil fear."

The third man finally steps close enough that the light is almost right above him, and he isn't how Robbie pictured him. Slightly younger than both Schultz and Sytsevich, and very obviously not as nearly rough around the edges, he looks incredibly unassuming - he looks just like a regular stiff in a suit.

Then, he smiles; and that smile scares Robbie to his very core. It's the smile of not just a mob-boss or crime-master, it's the smile of someone wickedly evil… a monster… a devil.

"Fear keeps the world turning, Mr Robertson. It keeps people in check. I do hope you will be no different. Do we understand each other?"

Robbie knows he doesn't have a choice. Not with these guys. If what this guy said was true, and he has no reason to believe it wasn't, he's had people keeping an eye on him for weeks. Surely he knows about Martha and Randy… God help him, he knows that he has to go along with this.

"I understand ya, loud and clear… Mr…?"

The grinning bastard kneels down so he is face-to-face to Robbie, putting a firm hand on his shoulder. He knows he has the Bugle editor-in-chief right where he wants him. Now, nothing will stand in his way - not even Spider-Man. The fool in the spandex costume has been a source of frustration for far too long… but not anymore.

"Mr Matthew Murdock", the devil grins, "but you can call me The Kingpin."

Seconds later, everything goes dark, and Robbie Robertson slips back into another painful slumber - his dream of being an upstanding and honest newspaper editor turned into a real-life nightmare.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[ MURDOCK ENTERPRISES DATABASE ]

NAME: Robbie Robertson

ALIAS: N/A

OCCUPATION: Daily Bugle Editor-In-Chief

STATUS: Alive, ally

NAME: Herman Schultz

ALIAS: N/A

OCCUPATION: Financial Investments

STATUS: Alive, ally

NAME: Alexei Sytsevich

ALIAS: N/A

OCCUPATION: Head of Security

STATUS: Alive, ally

NAME: Matthew Murdock

ALIAS: The Kingpin

OCCUPATION: CEO Murdock Enterprises

STATUS: Alive, me

NAME: Unknown

ALIAS: Spider-Man

OCCUPATION: Nuisance/Crime-Fighter

STATUS: Alive, enemy