In the shadows of an abandoned laboratory, where dust settled like forgotten dreams, lived a black widow spider unlike any other. She was a spider like no other, for she was Radioactive.
I will call her RAD.
To most, she was just another venomous creature, lurking in corners, feared and avoided. But inside her silken web, RAD carried centuries of hunger and a mind sharp with malice.
She watched the humans who stumbled into her world—fragile giants who never noticed her until it was too late. Yet one night, a boy entered. Not just any boy—Peter Parker. His hands trembled as he reached for the equipment that would change his destiny.
Rad sensed something in him: light, hope, the possibility of greatness. And in her twisted heart, she loathed it. For what was a creature born in darkness if not the eternal enemy of hope?
She crept silently down her web, each step deliberate, like a drumbeat of fate. When her fangs pierced his skin, it wasn’t just venom that flowed—it was a curse, a dark echo of her own essence. Peter staggered, unaware of the storm he carried within him.
To the world, it became the tale of a hero’s birth: Spider-Man, the protector of the innocent. But to rad, it was a cruel joke. For every time he swung above the city, every life he saved, her shadow lingered. He was not only a man of the people—he was her legacy too.
And somewhere in the silence of forgotten corners, rad watched. Waiting. Whispering to the dark: “Even heroes are born of venom.”
There you have it, RAD the spider that created Spider Man now has a name, and a greater place in the history of comics.
