Wraith. Freelance Villain

You fell into the world of freelance villainy through a very simple set of circumstances. You developed superpowers. Many people attributed their powers to some divine source, or years of arcane research. You, you got your powers from a cosmic entity you found absolutely hammered in a ditch just off of Interstate 70 in the middle of Kansas.
He was laying there, just gazing up at the sky, when you pulled over. As you walked up to him, he waved at you with a bottle that you couldn’t quite focus on. “Hey! There’s my guy.” He took a long drink, “I was wonderin’ when yed show up. I ben waitin’ at least a decade.” That and his glowing white eyes tipped me off to the fact that he wasn’t human. “I got sumpin for ya’.”
“Yeah, that’s nice. Listen do you have a phone or com link or something.” If he was trying to look human, you guessed that he might have something. Or you could have been just defaulting to normal operating procedures in lieu of anything else resembling normality.
“‘Course I have a phone. Iz right here.” A scratched up flip top appeared in his hand. “Waddaya wan it for?”
“Just need to make a call.” You flip the phone open and call the first number on his contacts list. Whoever it was picked up immediately.
“Damn it #, what do you want now?” You literally couldn’t understand the name she said so you mostly didn’t hear it.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but name is James and I have his phone. He seems to be rather drunk and I was hoping you could SON OF A BITCH!” You drop the phone as ice fire raced through your veins. You roll on the ground looking up at the drunk, who was standing their with a smug look on his face.
“Almost fergit to give that to ya’. Na’ rem…” A fist came out of nowhere and socked the drunk right in the jaw. He fell right to the ground and looked up at three eyed head with a collection of hands floating around it. “Oh. hey $% what er you doin here?”
“Picking up your drunk ass, #.” One of her hands grabbed him by the back of the neck and lifted him up. Then she looked at you. “Don’t worry it’s not fatal.” And vanished with her cargo.

When the pain finally faded, you regained your senses and found yourself staring at a hand that was leaking black mist. A week later you had a complete inventory of your new powers. Your blood had been completely replaced with a thick shadowy substance that seemed to replenish itself continually. With little effort you could draw it out through your skin and shape it into weapons armor, and so on. You could also teleport by covering yourself completely in shadow, even under a bright sun. A fact you were grateful for when your very first attempt at controlling your powers totaled your car. You could also melt into other more mundane, anything from a darkened alley to someone's personal shadow. You were faster, stronger, and never seemed to tire out. The weather never bothered you no matter how hot or cold it got.
Within a month you had your first job with a small time mad scientist. Two years later the name Wraith belonged to one of the most successful freelance villains on the planet. The hours sucked, the work brutal. But it payed great. And the next paycheck was only a phone call away.