CHAPTER 1: Plans and a War Within
Frank Castle
sat in a leather swivel chair, a black phone in his hand,
staring blankly through the bulletproof glass window
protecting Luke from any danger. Luke also held a black
phone. A dip beneath the glass provided a place for inmates
and family to exchange things.
Behind Frank were two
police officers, staring at him intently, any sign of attack
a reason to restrain this dangerous man.
"Frank, how
could you? I know your families dead but-holy hell!" Luke
was scared. He looked into Frank's eyes and saw nothing but
dark clouds. He noticed the scars across his face he had
gotten from the burns during his confrontation with the man
who had ordered his family dead. His hair had grown back in
a mop, and his burnt off eyebrow had a band-aid over it.
Frank pressed the telephone closer, and murmured into
it, "I did not blow up the fort. That was the gangster."
Luke laughed. "Frank, you were caught doing it!"
Frank shook his head, agitation surfacing now in the
dark wells he called eyes. "That was the gangsters
headquarters down there. The guy blew himself up. I told
you, and I told everyone else. I'm all over the news, and am
also hailed for taking down one of the Kingpin's greatest
gangs. They call me crazy, yet they also call me an "Amazing
Vigilante". A nut and a "City Scrubber". The people
can't decide if I am a Saint or a Devil. I think it's funny
and just goes to show how stupid people are.
"I killed
a lot of people, but I never killed a cop, or a civilian. I
have ethics like everyone else. I kill the scum, not the
people who help fight them!"
The two cops behind him
laughed.
Frank stood up and threw the phone down,
dangling by its cord. He then punched one of the cops and
kicked the other in the groin.
"Shut up." He said as
he threw them both into the bulletproof glass.
Luke
jumped as the heads thumped against the glass and yelled,
"What the hell's wrong with you Frank? Oh my god! Look
what you've done!"
Cops came in behind Luke and led
him away.
Frank was then surrounded by police, and he
then felt a shock through his whole body. He fell to the
ground as a cop put away his tazer gun.
The last thing
Frank felt before passing into the world of dreams, was the
cops grabbing him under his armpits, and dragging him away.
The bars of his cell were about four inches
apart, and impossibly dense. The cell he stand in contained
a bunk bed, a silver toilet, and a surveillance camera.
The
cops at this place called Frank a "Danger to Everyone".
He was about to be sentenced, probably for life. Either
that, or he would find himself in the electric chair.
The
camera buzzed annoyingly as it swiveled back and forth, back
and forth. Frank wanted to break it off of the wall, but
knew he would be in even more trouble than he already was if
he did it.
A cop walked by his cell, twirling his loop
of keys on his finger. They jangled against each other as he
took smaller steps, and eventually stopped in front of
Frank's cell.
"Lunch time." He said, unlocking the
cell and pulling it open. Frank was then led down a catwalk
that let people gain access to his cell, and many others. He
was on the fourth of ten levels. The tenth level were the
people in for a couple days or weeks. The fourth were people
who were in for years. The first were people about to be
executed.
Frank was not going to be moved to the first
if he could help it.
He stood in the lunch line.
Nobody spoke to him, instead waiting for the cook to throw a
sandwich on their tray and then the next one to throw some
potato chips on top of that.
Behind Frank was a tall
man, about six and a half foot. He had quite a bit of muscle
he liked to display prominently. Frank stuck his tray out
and the man behind the counter threw a sandwich on top. It
looked good, ham and lettuce an apparent ingredient.
Probably some dejan mustard that the prison cooks
specialized in. Frank remembered seeing ads on television
for Ryker's Mustard.
He walked toward a table in the
middle of the giant room. The ceiling was a window
basically, the sun shining through brilliantly. Papers were
strewn about the room, as well as food, crumbs, and dried
blood.
Security patrolled using catwalks, their guns
angled at the ground, their eyes searching for any means to
use the weapons.
The tall man who was behind Frank in
the line sat next to him. He grabbed his sandwich greedily,
and started eating it.
"Hey there. You the Punisher,
right?" The man asked, crumbs flying out of his mouth and
onto Frank's orange suit.
"Yeah." Frank waited for
the man to strike out, to attack.
It never came.
The
tall man continued eating his sandwich. The usual loud
hubbub of the lunch hour continued unhindered by the men's
conversation. Frank heard people talking about a break, a
big one.
"You want out of this place?" The tall man
had finished his sandwich and now gently wiped his mouth
with a napkin.
"Who wouldn't?" Frank answered,
grabbing a potato chip and slowly biting down on it, still
waiting for the man to attack. Maybe Frank was getting
paranoid. Maybe not.
"Well, we got a plan and it
involves you man. We'll get your suit back, and get out of
this place. I saw you on the news man. Daredevil busted you?
He busted half us. We can work together, show him what a
real spawn of hell looks like!"
Frank nodded
half-heartedly. "What would we need to do?" He asked.
"Simply enough, we'd need to start a riot, have you
kill some guards and take their guns, and then prepare for
all hell to break loose."
"Too simple. Need a much
more elaborate scheme, as well as back up plans, and back up
plans for the back up plans." Frank grabbed his sandwich,
tilted it around, and then nibbled at a corner of the bread.
****
"We can work that out later. We got six days to
plan. This is going down man, this is not my whole plan
though. We all working on our own ways to escape. I just
want a man used to every method of murder on my side." The
tall man smiled.
"I don't know every way to kill, and
I would never murder unless it was in the interest of
society."
"Punisher, you'll be able to show society
your brand of justice after we escape. If your not in, than
go ahead and wait for the electric chair. Choose man, choose
between certain death, or somewhat certain death."
Frank barely slept for the next five days, his
thoughts plagued with ways to escape without bringing
criminals with him. The tall man spoke like Frank was not a
threat, that the fact that he killed criminals did not scare
him, like there was a much bigger plan than he was willing
to reveal.
Frank awoke on the fifth day after an hour of
sleep. The large, industrial bowls the cops called lights
were turned on, and the normal day guards started their
patrol, before releasing the prisoners for breakfast.
Frank
went to the bars of the cell and watched the guard stationed
on his floor come toward him, swirling the keys on his
finger.
The man walked by, and Frank laughed.
"Whats
so funny?" The guard turned on Frank and stopped in front
of his face.
"Your face. You look new. You're scared
of us. You twirl the keys because it's a nervous twitch."
"How the hell do you know so much." The guard was
panicking, his breaths becoming rapid and his eyes looking
around for threats.
"I'm just good at noticing things.
Like the fact that your zippers undone."
The guard
looked at his pants, blushed, then zipped the pants up.
"I'll be back in fifteen to get you to breakfast."
The man said, and walked away hurriedly.
Frank chuckled
before heading over to his bed. He sat on the edge and
waited. The drawings all over the wall provided some
entertainment. Creative drawings, drawing of ^$%&, and
vulgarity.
Frank heard a man talking in the cell to the
left of him. He usually talked randomly, crazily.
"I'm
going to escape. Yeah, they are going to get me out. Society
will wait for me with open arms. Yeah. Yeah!"
Frank
listened to his ramblings for the next thirteen minutes,
listening amusedly.
The guard opened his cell door
exactly thirteen minutes later.
Breakfast
consisted of eggs over easy, and toast with blueberry jam.
Frank ate slowly, listening as plans were made for the
breakout. Plans involving him.
"He's gonna kill a
crapload of these guys for us, and then help us escape."
That was the basic gist of each conversation.
The tall
man returned and laughed as he told Frank, "Tonight it's
going down. We got word that a whole load of guys are being
sent out on good behavior. We can use this opportunity to
get out of here!"
Frank nodded. "Whatever."
"Could you get the keys, I know where they are hiding
your suit and if you get me out, I'll show you. I also know
where they keep detained vehicles. That van they showed on
TV will definitely help all of us."
Frank nodded.
"What time?"
"Seven. Shifts change at six, no
reason to worry. The other guys will be far away, off this
island. Call the guard over, kill him, grab the keys, get me
out, get someone else out, hand them the keys, watch all
hell break loose."
Frank nodded.
"I'm in."