Brendan was staring out of his small apartment complex. He was lean and tall with a small mop of brown hair. Green glasses rimmed his large, puppy dog violet eyes. The room he was standing in looked like something out of a 19th century painting. It had cozy armchairs, and exotic plants covered every inch of the room. A large fireplace was in the middle, and the fire's merry crackles sent soft shadows onto the green walls. The only thing that might have caused some eeriness was a large mask hanging up in his room. It was a simple black mask, but its features were so defined. It had a wide snarl that revealed sharp fangs. Its eyes were narrow and revealed the face of a madman-as if it was bent on revenge.

Looking at the room made people think that Brendan was a polite, timid businessman who lived a happy little life in Manhattan, but that mask revealed the soul that was hidden underneath all that fancy, schmancy attire.

His mother had given him up for adoption when he was just a baby, and he never knew discovered-nor did he try to discover-who his parents were. He moved from foster home to foster home-unable to remain in one because of his odd behavior. He wasn't a troublemaker, but he wasn't the greatest guy to hang around with.

He eventually settled down and had a family. He had a nice, pretty wife, and his teenage son-Matthew-was exceptional: brilliant, good-looking, popular, athletic. He wasn't rich, but he lived comfortably in Manhattan with a small business downtown.

His life came crashing down, though, when he saw his wife cheating on another man. He went ballistic, and if his son wasn't there to stop them, he swore that he might have killed her. They filed a divorce the next day, but his son didn't take it well. Matthew started to take drugs and hang out with motorcycle gangs.

Brendan tried everything he could to stop Matthew from destroying himself, but they just wound up getting into arguments, so Brendan just stood by and watched his son wander further and further away from him.

Then one day, when he came home after a terrible day at work, he learned that his son was murdered by the same person who stole his wife away from him. The police told him that the man was 'another drug dealer,' who was working for the Kingpin.

He remembered the long nights he spent after that drinking and crying himself to bed. He remembered his business filing for bankruptcy, and the inevitable fate that followed. He remembered traveling from shelter to shelter day after day. He vowed that even if it took him his entire life, he would kill the Kingpin for what he did. He searched and searched, and he finally found out from numerous detectives and sources that the Kingpin was Wilson Fisk.

Boy, did that send him a shock. His last name was Fisk, too, and that's when he finally learned after weeks of research who he was: the youngest son of Nelson Fisk and Shirley Carleque. In short, Wilson was his eldest brother.

That was when he started to build his own little crime ring. He spent his entire life doing the right thing, and what did it leave him with? A wife who cheated on him, a dead son, bankruptcy, homelessness, and an alcoholic.

Ever since he opened his little crime ring, he felt powerful and respected. Although there were numerous things that he ordered his workers to do, his initial goal didn't change. He still wanted vengeance, and even though it was taking him a long time, he was slowly climbing up the ladder of infamy. His crime ring started with three people-now it included more than a thousand criminals and drug dealers.

He was surprised how easy it was to infiltrate his brother's headquarters. He had several spies around, and they informed him that the government was funding a wide array of outer space missions. Apparently, one of their astronauts came home from the moon with an odd black smudge on his uniform two years ago. It was discovered that the "smudge" was an actual living thing. In fact, it was an alien symbiote-capable of increasing the strength of an ordinary human being by tenfold. They wanted more samples, so they sent more missions, but so far, they had come up with nothing. The government was doing this all behind the backs of their citizens-no one knew anything about this-well, almost no one.

His brother eventually heard about it and believed that if he got his hands on just one of those samples, he could duplicate them and create a massive army-enough to eradicate anyone who got in his way. Brendan smirked. His big brother didn't realize, though, that someone was listening to the whole conversation with a special device that he-Brendan Fisk-had made. Once Brendan heard about it, he knew that he had to beat his brother to it, and so far, his plan was going along perfectly.

Author's Note: I know that these past chapters aren't so great, but I promise that action will come soon. The character in this chapter-Brendan Fisk-was my brother's idea, and I decided to use it in this fan-fic. 'Give credit where credit is due,' I say. So I'm just giving credit to him for his character. For this fic, in addition to the traditional Spidey villains, I will add a couple of others that my brother has come up with because I really think they're cool ideas. Again, thanks to my reviewers. If you have any ideas for future chapters or any future villains or heroes that you'd like to see in the future, please tell me.