An ex-Marine, Frank Castle was a decorated war hero in Vietnam. While having a picnic with his wife and children, they found they inadvertantly stumbled upon a gang war. His family was killed. And on that day, Frank Castle died as well. In his place stood:
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Just like that. A man just like you and me lost his family to a bunch of punks with guns. Frank Castle was his name. His perfect life was now a wreck. Well, time to move on Frank, right? Wrong. You see, Frank Castle isn't your average guy. He doesn't tolerate things like that. Whoever wants to pull a stunt like that is in trouble now, because Frank Castle is a nice, good hearted man, who can be sick and twisted at the same time. He's both a saint and a sinner. Anyone who wants to pull a stunt like what the punks who took away his family did, better watch out. Because Frank Castle is an enforcer of justice, and a murderer, at the same time. Frank Castle is, the Punisher.
Your average night in the city, dark, dreary, loud, dirty. But up on that roof, if you look closely, there seems to be a dark figure. It's Frank Castle, and he's not enjoying the view. Dressed in a dark outfit, with a large skull on the front of his shirt, he is completely still. Except for his arm, guiding around the large rifle he's holding. His eye, looking downward through the small scope at the top of the rifle. His lips as he breaks the silence, muttering what sounds like "Damn sonnuva...." And his finger, as it pulls the rifle's trigger.
"Yo! Hand over yer goods or yo' gonna get beaten down, bitch!"
Three men in trenchcoats, with handguns surround a helpless woman in an ally not too far away. Tears are streaming down her face, as she thinks about her kids and her husband, her family that she loves more than anything. She drops her large pocketbook on the floor, and the goons laugh. They laugh at the fact they are threatening and scaring a helpless woman. After a couple minutes one of the sickos calms down and speaks up.
"You t'ink wees be stupid, huh? We know ya'll gonna get the cops on us, and we can't let ya do dat." He raised his gun with a sick smile across his face "Sorry girl, but we gotta---UGH!". He arches his back, and falls to the ground silently.
"YO WHAT HAPPENED TO JOHNNY?"
"I DUN KNOW! DERE'S A BIG HOLE IN HIS BACK! HE'S ALL BLOODY MAN! WHAT DA HELL IS G---"
He sure shut up quickly, but that tends to happen when you felt what he just felt. The cold, hard, metal front of a pistol was just jammed against the back of his head, and a dark, low voice is behind him too.
"That's a rifle bullet in him, that's what the hell is going on"
The dark low voice is, of course, coming from the Punisher. Now you know what happens when he is on a rooftop with a sniper rifle. But what happens when he's got two pistols, one jammed in a thug's head and the other one on alert?
"YO FOO'! YOU'D BEST PUT BIG MO DOWN RIGHT NOW!"
The last target. He's more scared than ever, his "homie" just got "capped" and his other "bro" has a gun pointed at his head. He fumbles his gun, trying to look threatening, and tough. But the Punisher sees past his false expression, and stares, silently, expressionless.
"YO, I'M SERIOUS MAN! I'LL HAVE TO CAP YO IF YOU DO---"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Bang.
"......"
A bullet from Franks pistol just silenced this thug, he coughs, and falls to the ground with a sickening thud as his head bounces off the pavement. Frank just got annoyed, now you know what happens when he gets annoyed. But Frank was also just occupied. Allowing the man he's holding a gun to, to reach for his pants. But this is a veteran he's dealing with, and when Frank sees a gun sticking out of this guy's pocket, of course he stays smooth. He lifts his foot and kicks the gun away, and just for fun, puts a lot of strength behind this kick hoping to do some unneccessary damage to the punk's hand. He decides to get friendly with this guy, and break the silence.
"Stupid rookie. Shaking in your boots. And what's that smell?" He took two large sniffs. "Some bad-ass gangster you are. You don't look to bad-ass right now. It's a lot easier to be tough in front of a little old lady, than it is with a guy like me, don't you think?"
He paused, and calmed down. Finally, with a little emotion, he takes a deep breath and continues...
"I can't believe I've lost so much to punks like you"
"Whatchoo talkin bout man? Who are you?"
"Some call me the Punisher, and you my friend, are about to find out why"
Frank is motionless once again. Except for his finger, as it pulls the trigger.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Simple as that three jackasses have lost their lives to a murderer, and an enforcer of justice.
The woman looks into his eyes, squinting as tears roll down her cheeks. She's a mess, and she's scared half to death. Frank puts his gun into their holsters, and nods to her, with his normal expressionless face as he begins to walk away. Behind him, the helpless woman is struggling to pick up her things and stand up, and as he exits the alley he hears her say in her shaky, nervous voice...
"....th--...thank....you...."
He leaves. He's done what he's considered to be "his job", and that's a day in the life of Frank Castle, The Punisher, sinner and saint, at the same time.
