Post by kilowogo on Mar 4, 2013 18:42:40 GMT -5
Prologue
There was once a time when I was proud of my name. Now, though, the Kravinoff reputation has been smeared through filth and my wife and two sons are dead. Such a loss would devastate most men, but I am no ordinary man. Two out of the three were killed by my hand, and the third through my actions. They were weak and I cannot let my honored name be tainted by such fragile minds and bodies. My wife, Sasha, was once bright and beautiful, but her newfound greed and stupidity made snapping her neck an easy choice – a decision I do not regret for even a single moment. My precious son, Vladimir, was the victim of the Spyder and surely his foolish actions against me were guided by his mother’s pathetic influence. My other son, Alyosha, simply was not strong enough and that was far too transparent. I was happy to have him and my daughter, Ana, fight to the death. I was certain Ana would be the one to emerge from the Savage Land and once again my instincts held true. Now, I attempt to mold Ana into a warrior that will bring the Kravinoff family great pride. Through my teaching, I know she’ll be a welcome addition to our legacy.
I yearn for a death that is now impossible to obtain. My end can only come by the Spyder’s hand – and I am no fool -- I know that will never happen. I can no longer view my resurrection and immortality as a curse. No, I now view it as a gift – and this gift grants me the opportunity to once again make the world bow before the Kravinoff name... and hunt targets even deadlier than the Spyder.
Chapter One - You Call That A Knife?
On the surface she's nothing more than a child -- a child being put through rigorous training that would reduce grown men to a quivering pile of jelly. She has the advantage of being physically superior thanks to my genetics, but she cannot rely on that alone. A strong body is nothing without technique and an even stronger mentality. Every day I make Ana train with her blades and other weapons I deem appropriate, and after several hours, I make her face me. I tell her she cannot hold back but I know this is a task she can never handle -- nor do I ever expect her to -- but she improves with every strike. Each time I find an opening my fists assure she'll never make that same mistake again. She's a clever girl and I’m proud to say she has never made the same error twice. Her body is broken and bruised come Sunday every week, so that's the day I let her rest her body... but not her mind. Even though she's read it from front to back dozens of time, I demand for her to read my journal. Her body may be exhausted, but that’s no excuse to slow her mind, too. A man can know thousands of ways to end a life with his bare hands, but what good is it if he’s unable to get close to a man with a gun?
Her body trembles, though her eyes show no sign of yielding. She never lacks determination, not even after countless and humiliating defeats at my hand. She is truly a Kravinoff and she cannot see it, but she's the one thing in this life that brings a smile to my face. No longer am I outraged about being brought back from the dead. Seeing her transform into such a formidable warrior brings me a joy like no other.
I know her ultimate goal is the Spyder. She makes it clear she wants nothing more in this life than to have her blade's tip slide across his jugular, but she is not ready -- at least not yet. It is a moot goal, anyway. The man she seeks to slay is not who he appears to be. My foe has changed yet the world is blind to it. The individual under that costume is nothing more than a fake. His movements, his posture, his methods... they've all undergone subtle changes and somehow no one sees it. But it matters not because the fool is no longer a concern of mine. I have proven I am his superior and I have no need to prove it yet again. But Ana's thirsty for a fight. One day I will allow her to face the Spyder, but that day is far away. She's nothing compared to me, but then again, few are.
After several months of vigorous training, I carefully select her target. I know she yearns to slaughter the Spyder, so I grant her the next best thing – the impostor I faced in the Savage Land. He has been spotted numerous times down in Philadelphia, and that is the only information she will receive from me: his name and his location. He was far more vicious than the Spyder, but he proved to have weaknesses --- ones that render him easy prey. I will not grant Ana this information, though. If she wishes to live up to our name, she’ll have to make this discovery on her own. I have faith she will. She knows any target requires at least a week of careful observation before the hunt truly begins.
I pray she is not too hungry for combat because if she rushes this critical step, her death is certain against this pretender they call “Venom.” And, not to be too selfish, but I’d really hate to find a suitable mate all over again and produce another child worthy of my training. It really is such a chore.
Chapter Two - What's a Google? Part 1
I love and respect my father for so many reasons, but he truly is a stubborn old man. Yes, I'll spend the upcoming week following this “Venom” and studying his movements, but father's refusal to catch up with the times is… well, it’s stupid. A man cannot claim to be so wise while being completely ignorant to how the modern world around him works. Maybe he’s spent one too many days with those brutes in the Savage Land.
With one quick online search I can learn things that would take father days upon days to figure out. There are these sad little people who type away in front of their computers for hours and live vicariously through these freaks – I even found this hysterical forum where they argue who would win in fights. Even more depressing was people writing “fan-fiction” about our lives! Don’t they have their own lives to enjoy? How sad.
I take no pleasure in dressing like one of them, but if I want to sit-down in an internet café without drawing attention, then I have to wear these tacky clothes. I’m so happy father doesn’t see me in these jeans and pink tank top. I imagine he’d call me a Golden Girl while being completely oblivious to how dated that reference is. I find a spot at a computer and merely type "Venom" in the search engine. A second later, I'm flooded with pages of information. I may speak poorly of these chubby nerds and I do think their lifestyle is hilariously pathetic, but I am grateful, too because they pour such detailed information into these biographies. My prey can throw a car, yet he doesn’t kill drug dealers with his strikes. Why does he hold back so much? Will he give me the same luxury? These people claim they’ve seen the Spyder hurt Venom with fire and loud noises, too. This... alien... will be no fun if it has such glaring and easily exploitable weaknesses. I’ll have to save those tactics for last. Father would want me to capitalize on those immediately, but what he fails to realize is the rush doesn’t come with the victory… it comes with the fight. Suddenly, I notice the girl at the computer to my right looks at my attire and then gives me a dirty glance. This snobby brat won’t survive the night, that I’m sure of. Surely studying Venom can wait a few more hours.
Part 2
From the rooftops I watch my daughter enter one of those computer restaurants. I understand her need to use this technology. After all, I would have never frowned upon Vladimir for making upgrades to his staff. But, seeing a daughter go anywhere dressed like Blanche Devereaux is an excruciating experience.
Minutes pass before she leaves, but something’s wrong. She’s no longer on the hunt for Venom… she’s following a civilian girl -- one that looks even more like Blanche. I race across several rooftops before Ana throws the girl into an alley. I hope Ana only wants to teach this fool a lesson for whatever transpired in the building, but then I see Ana unsheathe her knife and I see it in her eyes… she’s going to kill this girl. I leap off the five story building and land directly in front of my daughter. She screams at me – a yell that reminds me of her mother and, for but a moment, it makes me miss Sasha. The memory of snapping my wife's neck fills my head, but a screeching yell from my daughter brings me back to the present. The innocent girl scampers away and I hold Ana to prevent her from following. She continues to yell at me, saying this girl gave her a “dirty look” while "using Google." What is this “Google? It matters not because what I do know is you should never take a life based on a glance alone. I let her bombard me with more harsh words. I might be a harsh father when it comes to her training, but I’m not a harsh man when it comes to raising her properly.
I know her rage will pass momentarily and indeed it does. Yet again, I lecture her on the importance of honor. We can never let emotions dictate us. That’s what separates us from the costumed fools like Green Goblin and Doctor Octopus. We never kill just because we can. We only kill those who will challenge us – those who could just as easily kill us. She understands and apologizes, but I tell her there’s no need to. Part of me wishes I could tell her how much I love her and I too was a victim of my rage at a younger age… but I cannot. She cannot see me with flaws, she cannot see me as soft. Instead, I remind her that I am proud of her and we embrace.
She asks why I was following her, but I assure her I was on my own hunt – one that I cannot tell her of. This, of course, is a lie, but the last thing she needs to know is that I truly question her ability to defeat Venom. Having a weakness does not make him weak and it frightens me to think that’s what Ana believes. I’ve taught her to know better and I pray that shows… because tomorrow she’ll strike at her target.
Before she departs to continue her hunt, she tells me a fascinating bit of information. Apparently, the man who “killed” Captain America is putting together a team. Naturally, such matters wouldn’t interest me. I’ve been on a team before and it was a lost cause. Nonetheless, this man is allegedly looking to create a team consisting of the “best” mercenaries. Now this is a hunt I’d be interested in…
There was once a time when I was proud of my name. Now, though, the Kravinoff reputation has been smeared through filth and my wife and two sons are dead. Such a loss would devastate most men, but I am no ordinary man. Two out of the three were killed by my hand, and the third through my actions. They were weak and I cannot let my honored name be tainted by such fragile minds and bodies. My wife, Sasha, was once bright and beautiful, but her newfound greed and stupidity made snapping her neck an easy choice – a decision I do not regret for even a single moment. My precious son, Vladimir, was the victim of the Spyder and surely his foolish actions against me were guided by his mother’s pathetic influence. My other son, Alyosha, simply was not strong enough and that was far too transparent. I was happy to have him and my daughter, Ana, fight to the death. I was certain Ana would be the one to emerge from the Savage Land and once again my instincts held true. Now, I attempt to mold Ana into a warrior that will bring the Kravinoff family great pride. Through my teaching, I know she’ll be a welcome addition to our legacy.
I yearn for a death that is now impossible to obtain. My end can only come by the Spyder’s hand – and I am no fool -- I know that will never happen. I can no longer view my resurrection and immortality as a curse. No, I now view it as a gift – and this gift grants me the opportunity to once again make the world bow before the Kravinoff name... and hunt targets even deadlier than the Spyder.
Chapter One - You Call That A Knife?
On the surface she's nothing more than a child -- a child being put through rigorous training that would reduce grown men to a quivering pile of jelly. She has the advantage of being physically superior thanks to my genetics, but she cannot rely on that alone. A strong body is nothing without technique and an even stronger mentality. Every day I make Ana train with her blades and other weapons I deem appropriate, and after several hours, I make her face me. I tell her she cannot hold back but I know this is a task she can never handle -- nor do I ever expect her to -- but she improves with every strike. Each time I find an opening my fists assure she'll never make that same mistake again. She's a clever girl and I’m proud to say she has never made the same error twice. Her body is broken and bruised come Sunday every week, so that's the day I let her rest her body... but not her mind. Even though she's read it from front to back dozens of time, I demand for her to read my journal. Her body may be exhausted, but that’s no excuse to slow her mind, too. A man can know thousands of ways to end a life with his bare hands, but what good is it if he’s unable to get close to a man with a gun?
Her body trembles, though her eyes show no sign of yielding. She never lacks determination, not even after countless and humiliating defeats at my hand. She is truly a Kravinoff and she cannot see it, but she's the one thing in this life that brings a smile to my face. No longer am I outraged about being brought back from the dead. Seeing her transform into such a formidable warrior brings me a joy like no other.
I know her ultimate goal is the Spyder. She makes it clear she wants nothing more in this life than to have her blade's tip slide across his jugular, but she is not ready -- at least not yet. It is a moot goal, anyway. The man she seeks to slay is not who he appears to be. My foe has changed yet the world is blind to it. The individual under that costume is nothing more than a fake. His movements, his posture, his methods... they've all undergone subtle changes and somehow no one sees it. But it matters not because the fool is no longer a concern of mine. I have proven I am his superior and I have no need to prove it yet again. But Ana's thirsty for a fight. One day I will allow her to face the Spyder, but that day is far away. She's nothing compared to me, but then again, few are.
After several months of vigorous training, I carefully select her target. I know she yearns to slaughter the Spyder, so I grant her the next best thing – the impostor I faced in the Savage Land. He has been spotted numerous times down in Philadelphia, and that is the only information she will receive from me: his name and his location. He was far more vicious than the Spyder, but he proved to have weaknesses --- ones that render him easy prey. I will not grant Ana this information, though. If she wishes to live up to our name, she’ll have to make this discovery on her own. I have faith she will. She knows any target requires at least a week of careful observation before the hunt truly begins.
I pray she is not too hungry for combat because if she rushes this critical step, her death is certain against this pretender they call “Venom.” And, not to be too selfish, but I’d really hate to find a suitable mate all over again and produce another child worthy of my training. It really is such a chore.
Chapter Two - What's a Google? Part 1
I love and respect my father for so many reasons, but he truly is a stubborn old man. Yes, I'll spend the upcoming week following this “Venom” and studying his movements, but father's refusal to catch up with the times is… well, it’s stupid. A man cannot claim to be so wise while being completely ignorant to how the modern world around him works. Maybe he’s spent one too many days with those brutes in the Savage Land.
With one quick online search I can learn things that would take father days upon days to figure out. There are these sad little people who type away in front of their computers for hours and live vicariously through these freaks – I even found this hysterical forum where they argue who would win in fights. Even more depressing was people writing “fan-fiction” about our lives! Don’t they have their own lives to enjoy? How sad.
I take no pleasure in dressing like one of them, but if I want to sit-down in an internet café without drawing attention, then I have to wear these tacky clothes. I’m so happy father doesn’t see me in these jeans and pink tank top. I imagine he’d call me a Golden Girl while being completely oblivious to how dated that reference is. I find a spot at a computer and merely type "Venom" in the search engine. A second later, I'm flooded with pages of information. I may speak poorly of these chubby nerds and I do think their lifestyle is hilariously pathetic, but I am grateful, too because they pour such detailed information into these biographies. My prey can throw a car, yet he doesn’t kill drug dealers with his strikes. Why does he hold back so much? Will he give me the same luxury? These people claim they’ve seen the Spyder hurt Venom with fire and loud noises, too. This... alien... will be no fun if it has such glaring and easily exploitable weaknesses. I’ll have to save those tactics for last. Father would want me to capitalize on those immediately, but what he fails to realize is the rush doesn’t come with the victory… it comes with the fight. Suddenly, I notice the girl at the computer to my right looks at my attire and then gives me a dirty glance. This snobby brat won’t survive the night, that I’m sure of. Surely studying Venom can wait a few more hours.
Part 2
From the rooftops I watch my daughter enter one of those computer restaurants. I understand her need to use this technology. After all, I would have never frowned upon Vladimir for making upgrades to his staff. But, seeing a daughter go anywhere dressed like Blanche Devereaux is an excruciating experience.
Minutes pass before she leaves, but something’s wrong. She’s no longer on the hunt for Venom… she’s following a civilian girl -- one that looks even more like Blanche. I race across several rooftops before Ana throws the girl into an alley. I hope Ana only wants to teach this fool a lesson for whatever transpired in the building, but then I see Ana unsheathe her knife and I see it in her eyes… she’s going to kill this girl. I leap off the five story building and land directly in front of my daughter. She screams at me – a yell that reminds me of her mother and, for but a moment, it makes me miss Sasha. The memory of snapping my wife's neck fills my head, but a screeching yell from my daughter brings me back to the present. The innocent girl scampers away and I hold Ana to prevent her from following. She continues to yell at me, saying this girl gave her a “dirty look” while "using Google." What is this “Google? It matters not because what I do know is you should never take a life based on a glance alone. I let her bombard me with more harsh words. I might be a harsh father when it comes to her training, but I’m not a harsh man when it comes to raising her properly.
I know her rage will pass momentarily and indeed it does. Yet again, I lecture her on the importance of honor. We can never let emotions dictate us. That’s what separates us from the costumed fools like Green Goblin and Doctor Octopus. We never kill just because we can. We only kill those who will challenge us – those who could just as easily kill us. She understands and apologizes, but I tell her there’s no need to. Part of me wishes I could tell her how much I love her and I too was a victim of my rage at a younger age… but I cannot. She cannot see me with flaws, she cannot see me as soft. Instead, I remind her that I am proud of her and we embrace.
She asks why I was following her, but I assure her I was on my own hunt – one that I cannot tell her of. This, of course, is a lie, but the last thing she needs to know is that I truly question her ability to defeat Venom. Having a weakness does not make him weak and it frightens me to think that’s what Ana believes. I’ve taught her to know better and I pray that shows… because tomorrow she’ll strike at her target.
Before she departs to continue her hunt, she tells me a fascinating bit of information. Apparently, the man who “killed” Captain America is putting together a team. Naturally, such matters wouldn’t interest me. I’ve been on a team before and it was a lost cause. Nonetheless, this man is allegedly looking to create a team consisting of the “best” mercenaries. Now this is a hunt I’d be interested in…