(At a mansion somewhere in Russia...)
In a wide bedroom, a man with black buzz haircut stood in front of his wooden wardrobe, facing its mirror as he held a white bulletproof mask with two eye holes covered by one-way mirror lenses. Monotonous dark grey walls formed the room, filled with the man's abstract paintings resembling a large white featureless face absorbing colorful faces with features. On one side of the walls, a "Taxi Driver" movie poster was plastered on it.
The man, Dmitri Smerdyakov, put on the mask. It fit his face like a glove. Then, he spoke in a subvocal manner. "Face: Travis Bickle."
The mask glitched out for a few moments but seconds later, it managed to display the "Taxi Driver" character's face. The skin, the hairstrands, and other facial features looked pretty real, something he marveled at—although the mask was made of a prototype classified technology. Dmitri tried to do different facial expressions underneath the mask and it replicated them with perfect accuracy. He couldn't help but chuckle at the ridiculous expressions he'd done.
"You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?" Dmitri mimicked the character's American accent and voice with such accuracy, even his mannerisms. "Well, who the hell else are you talkin' to? You talkin' to me? Well, I'm the only one here. Who the fuck do you think you're talkin' to?"
Knowing he nailed the performance, a warm smile formed on his face. Dmitri loved acting out scenes from his favorite classic movies, especially when becoming someone else other than himself like a chameleon. But his smile disappeared when he heard his smartphone vibrating on the desk. He immediately knew who sent a message to him. Dmitri picked it up and saw a notification displaying a message from Sergei Kravinoff, his older half-brother.
Sergei
Dmitri! Where are you right now? Get me a bottle of vodka this instant! I'm waiting at the training room.
He sighed and typed a reply.
Dmitri
Yes, Master Kravinoff... I'll get one right away from the wine attic.
He turned off the "face" and took the mask off. Dmitri glanced at the mirror with a dejected look. No matter how long he wanted to be someone else, he'd always have to return to being himself, stuck in a disappointing life. Not wanting to suffer his brother's wrath, he put away the mask and carried out Sergei's order.
...
*THUD!*
A severed head of a training dummy fell onto the floor after Sergei had slashed it off with two kukris he wielded. He sheathed the short swords into their respective scabbards and retrieved his repeater crossbow from his back. Looking down its iron sights as Sergei aimed the weapon at a few dummies, he proceeded to fire bolts at them and cocked the crossbow repeatedly, piercing the targets.
A satisfied sigh escaped his lips as he put the crossbow on his back. Breathing heavily, he wiped off the sweat from his slicked back short black hair. He turned around and looked at some of the dummies, scratched and beheaded. One of them had throwing knives stuck on its chest.
Approaching a wooden bench and sitting down on it, Sergei looked rather annoyed despite being satisfied seconds ago. "Same old training with ordinary hunts along the way. The thrill is getting stale after these years..." He closed his hands into fists, gripping them tightly. "When will the time come for a target beyond ordinary to arrive before me? One that can match me and be a fighter as I hunt them down. When will the thrill of the hunt be ignited once more?! When!?"
The sound of the training room door opening interrupted Sergei's thought process, prompting him to turn to Dmitri entering the door with one of his hands holding a stainless steel tray. On the tray was a bottle of vodka along with a glass filled with a few ice cubes.
"Here's the bottle of vodka you wanted, Master," said Dmitri as he set down the tray gently on the bench close to his brother. He proceeded to unscrew the bottle and poured it into the glass, before setting it back on the tray.
"Finally." Sergei picked up the glass and drank till it was empty. He closed his eyes for a moment and hummed, savoring vodka's creamy taste and its coolness. "Wonderful..." Sergei opened his eyes, now with his smile returning. He put down the glass on the tray and rose from the bench. "I needed that."
"Another boring, frustrating day, Master...?" Dmitri looked at Sergei with a hint of sympathy despite not being treated as a brother. Deep down, he wished things were different for the better.
The older one simply nodded.
"I understand your frustration... I could only hope the wait comes to an end soon. Perhaps things will change for good."
As if on cue, their smartphones vibrated in their pockets, interrupting their conversation. The two men took their phones out and found out a familiar man was arranging a secure group call with them. It was none other than Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin himself. They'd used to train Shocker and Tombstone, Kingpin's right hand men, along with the henchmen in the past.
This made the brothers look at each other. Sergei grinned at the possibility of having a thrilling hunt while Dmitri had a reserved expression. Though the latter was glad to be back on the field, better than being stuck in the mansion. Not wasting time, they accepted the group call.
"Yes, Mr. Fisk?" Dmitri spoke in a composed, polite tone.
"What we can do for you, Kingpin?" Sergei asked with eagerness and thirst to hunt in his voice.
"Gentlemen... I have a job for you two," Kingpin spoke from his end. "But firstly, have you kept up with the news? Especially one about two certain Spider-Heroes from New York?"
"We have seen the news regarding the Spider-Men. I assume the job is related to them, Mr. Fisk?" asked Dmitri.
"Indeed. Them and the daughter of that traitor Walter Hardy had left some parts of my organization in shambles," he replied, "And given that I'm currently dealing with a war against Hammerhead and managing my business, I have difficulties handling those three annoyances."
A smirk formed on Sergei's face. "We'll kill them, Kingpin. When do we start?"
"As soon as possible. But don't get too eager. They defeated my enforcers and my men and got them all arrested. So I'd rather you study the trio first. I'll send you CCTV footage to help your study. Might take some time. And do keep mind that the Spider-Men aren't mere men. They are more than that. Be careful."
"Duly noted, Mr. Fisk," Dmitri replied, "Much appreciated. Is there anything else?"
"For the...fee, I shall pay you in advance asap, with the rest after the job completion. This assignment is essential. So do not disappoint me with your failure, gentlemen. I'm counting on you," Kingpin warned the two with a stern tone, before closing the call.
After the call, the half-brothers turned to each other with a nervous expression. From what the Kingpin had told them, their targets could be really troublesome. But then, it changed to revenge-fueled determination as they also wanted to teach the heroes a lesson for messing with the enforcers and the men they'd trained. Sergei smiled at the prospect of the challenge presented.
"Get ready to pack anything necessary, Dmitri. We're going to the United States," Sergei ordered.
The younger man nodded. "When are we leaving, Master?"
"Soon," Sergei replied. "For the great hunt...has begun."
A/N: Oh man, it's been so long since I wrote and posted a fanfic lmao. I've been busy with university stuff, especially thesis. But anyways, I hope you're intrigued enough and enjoyed this prologue! Oh and...did I say that I posted the entire first act already? I hope you'll enjoy the rest! Lemme know your thoughts by commenting and feel free to favorite and follow this fic. Feel free to follow and favorite me too to stay updated! (Also, credits to my writer friends who have helped me in writing this fic. I couldn't do it without y'all.)