Ethan perched on the edge of a towering skyscraper, the city sprawling beneath him like a living, breathing organism. The wind tugged at his suit, but he stayed steady, his mask hiding the amused grin on his face.
"Spider-Venom," he said, testing the name again. It rolled off the tongue better than WebWarden. That name was way too lame for what he was becoming. He needed something with more weight, something that conveyed his abilities and the edge he brought to the streets.
But a name wasn't enough. He needed to make sure people associated him with it, not the clunky title the media had slapped on him. And there was one way to do that—action.
Ethan leaped off the building, his body cutting through the air like a knife. The web shooters on his wrists fired off, the thin but strong strands of synthetic silk catching onto a nearby crane. He swung through the city, reveling in the speed and freedom his powers offered.
Tonight, the streets would remember Spider-Venom.
---
Ethan's first stop was a local warehouse suspected of being a hub for arms trafficking. He'd overheard rumors while on patrol, and if he wanted to cement his new identity, this was the perfect opportunity.
The warehouse was dimly lit, its exterior guarded by a handful of men armed with handguns. Ethan perched on a rooftop nearby, observing their movements.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let's give the city something to talk about."
With a flick of his wrist, a web shot out, snagging a guard's gun and yanking it from his grasp. Before the man could react, Ethan swung down, landing with a thud that echoed through the alleyway.
The guards turned, startled by the sudden arrival.
"Who the hell are you?" one of them demanded, pulling out a knife.
Ethan straightened, his voice steady. "Spider-Venom. Remember the name."
The guards exchanged confused glances.
"Spider-Venom? What happened to WebWarden?"
Ethan groaned, dodging the knife with ease. "Don't mention that name again."
He moved swiftly, disarming the men with calculated strikes and webbing them to the walls. The fight was over in minutes, leaving the entrance unguarded.
Inside, the warehouse was bustling with activity. Crates of weapons were being loaded onto trucks, the sound of machinery filling the air. Ethan crept along the rafters, assessing the situation.
"This is going to be fun," he whispered.
Dropping down in the center of the room, Ethan fired a web at the light switch, plunging the warehouse into darkness. Chaos erupted as the men scrambled, shouting orders and fumbling for their weapons.
Ethan moved like a shadow, taking them down one by one. His Spider-Sense guided him through the darkness, allowing him to anticipate their every move. He webbed a man to a crate, disarmed another with a precise kick, and sent a third flying into a stack of boxes.
By the time the lights flickered back on, the scene was a mess. Dozens of men were incapacitated, the weapons secured with webbing, and Ethan stood in the center of it all.
"Tell your bosses Spider-Venom says hi," he said, vanishing into the shadows before the police arrived.
---
The next morning, Ethan's alarm blared, pulling him out of a deep sleep. Groaning, he rolled over and grabbed his phone.
"Let's see what the city thinks of me now," he muttered, pulling up the news.
Sure enough, the top headline read: "New Menace Stalks the City: Spider-Venom Terrorizes Criminals."
Ethan's jaw dropped. "Menace? Seriously?"
He skimmed through the article, which detailed his takedown at the warehouse. The journalist, J. Jonah Jameson, painted him as a reckless vigilante, more dangerous than the criminals he fought.
"Spider-Venom is no hero," the article read. "This so-called 'protector' is a ticking time bomb, bringing chaos wherever he goes. The city doesn't need another masked menace!"
Ethan groaned, slumping back into his bed. "Great. Just great."
He continued scrolling, finding more articles and social media posts. Some people defended him, praising his efforts to clean up the streets, but Jameson's influence was undeniable. The name Spider-Venom was already gaining traction, but not in the way Ethan had hoped.
At school, the buzz around Spider-Venom was palpable. Students crowded around their phones, showing each other clips and articles about his latest escapades. Ethan overheard snippets of conversation as he made his way to class.
"Spider-Venom? Sounds like a bad guy."
"Nah, he's cool! Did you see what he did to those arms dealers?"
"Jameson's right. We don't need another masked freak running around."
Ethan sighed, sliding into his seat next to Peter in Dr. Connors' lab class.
Peter glanced at him, a curious look on his face. "Hey, Ethan. Did you hear about that Spider-Venom guy? He's all over the news."
Ethan smirked. "Yeah, I saw. Seems like Jameson's got it out for him."
Peter nodded, adjusting his glasses. "He's got it out for all masked heroes. Still, Spider-Venom's doing some good out there. Taking down arms dealers isn't exactly villain behavior."
Ethan shrugged. "Guess it depends on who you ask."
The rest of the class passed uneventfully, with Peter and Ethan working on their polymer project. Ethan found himself enjoying Peter's company more than he'd expected. The guy was sharp, passionate about his work, and surprisingly easy to talk to.
As they wrapped up, Peter hesitated, looking thoughtful.
"Ethan, do you ever feel like there's more you could be doing? Like... with your life?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Peter shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I could be doing more, you know? Helping people. Making a difference."
Ethan nodded slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I think we all feel that way sometimes. The trick is figuring out how to do it without losing yourself."
Peter looked at him, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "Yeah. I guess you're right."
As Ethan walked home that afternoon, he couldn't shake the conversation from his mind. Looks like Spider-Man is gonna debute soon and he had no idea how close he'd come to the truth.
Ethan stopped on a rooftop overlooking the city, pulling his mask from his bag. He slipped it on, the fabric fitting snugly over his face.
"Time to show this city what you're really about,"he said to himself.