Hell Hath No Fury... (closed)

[Frank Castle]

"...All they that take the sword, shall perish with the sword."

-The Bible, Matthew 26:52

The rain beat down hard on the head of the lone figure, a figure swathed in a dark coat, looking so much like Death himself. In fact, to the unwary passerby, he did look like Death, his head held low, face shrouded in the darkness of the night, unmoving, unflinching. But this man was not Death, only his avatar.

The man was Frank Castle, and he stood over the place where his family was murdered...

The rain beat down harder, but he didn't notice. He didn't even care anymore, because there was nothing he could do to take the pain away. Nothing he could do to bring them back.

However there was one thing he could do. One thing that would ease the hurt of loss for but a moment...he could punish those responsible...

[The Administrator!!!]

Elsewhere... Across the park...

A family, low rent home above the small shop they owned. A black man, his black wife and black son. They were a minority suffering every day with a number of bill problems, medical problems and school problems. Yet the biggest problem they had was the one they endured every night...

At this hour. As the rain washes the dirt and filth off the street. There is still filth among the streets workings. Five men, young men. Angry, hateful men. Serving the work of a man who was giving them the orders he always did. The demands of 'protection' for the people on these streets. The streets which he even owned.

Five men enter the small shop. They all smile, and chuckle looking around as the customers are gone. The store is closed but the owner has yet to turn the open sign off. Merely he has to close this time at night.

"Hey pops." A tall, slinky fellow. Did walk about seeing the young boy glaring at him. "You better teach your kid some manners."

The man nods, and begs his son to go. Angrily, did the boy abide but his mother looked saddened. The man shook his head and she followed. Standing... he swallowed before asking, "W-what is it you need?"

"Oh come now old man." Said another in a hoodie. He, slack-jawed and with shades was grabbing a pistol off his loose belt. Now brandishing it as the owner stepped back. "You know we only come here when the boss wants his 'donations' for the cause. To keep you and everyone in your family safe and sound able to make a living."

He stood still. Hands up, he nods. "I know... but, he took a donation last night. I was..."

"There's been a small snag. See, Trevor?" The tallest kid, with his cap pulled back. He motioned to one with more tattoos than commonly seen on the walls of a tattoo parlor. He smiled to the owner waving his own pistol, his nose ring gleaming rather shiny today. "Yeah, Trevor's got this nifty idea for a tatt on his ass. It's a little pricey so... we decided, to do a personal little bit of donation. For all the great, fun times we've helped you out in the past."

The man, slowly lowered his head. His heart sunk... "P-please.... my wife, she has to have surgery.... I-I can only make so much when..."

Suddenly, he felt himself on the wall. The one whom spoke first, put the gun he had up under his chin. "Fucking when what? Huh? When we come by and take your piss-ass money? You think that's more important than your life? Huh bitch?"

"Oooh!" The last one to talk. Wich a nice black leather jacket. Just leaned on a wall and asks. "Hey, what about his wife's life? She's pretty cute..." Having a rather off look. He shrugs, "And I bet the boss wouldn't mind the kid. We can maybe raise him as one our own. Wouldn't that be nice, pops? A gangbanger?"

"Heh..." The man lowers his gun. "Give it time... every kid in this part of town joins us sooner or later..." A smirk, "Ain't that right pops?"

Just then.... the bell on the door jingles a little...

[Frank Castle]

Frank walked into the little shop, looking for a bottle of whiskey to keep the night from closing in around him. He didn't even register the men at first, thinking they were just more customers. Then he spotted the guns...

And then he saw the wife and child cowering in the back...

And then he was pissed...

[The Administrator!!!]

The men were not even really 'phased' with this man. The leader, still threatening the owner. Just snorts and turns back to him. "Listen pops... we're not fucking around here. The money... or your family? It's that fucking easy..."

A grin, the one next to the door. With his coat. Looked over the guy in black. He liked his coat too... but...

The one with the loose pants had a smile. Feeling cocky like he always did. "Hey? You heard what happened in the park the other night old man?" He stood tall, adjusting the brim of his shades with his pistol. "You know, the boss was the one that arranged that little mess. Popping down that whole fucking family. Because they couldn't keep their heads low and just do what's smart, keep their mouthes shut." So, he laughed, "Matter of fact. Me, and Devon." He motioned to the man with ink. His nice shiny ring there dangling. "We were part of the team that took care of that mess for him. So yeah, it's nothing to us we pop a few more kids and mommies..."

A slight laugh about the few lesser goons. The old man shook and looked down ashamed. He nods... "Okay... I-I'll do it... I promise... I'll get the money... it's up stairs..."

He was let go. The men, now go to the newcomer.

The man in his coat, pulled out a pack of cigs and a book of matches. Obviously flicking the match on the no smoking sign...

"Heh..." He smiled as he raised the match to his cig. "I like your jacket, I like to collect them. Maybe, I should collect yours? Mister?"

[Frank Castle]

"You boys should put down your guns and walk the fuck away," said Castle, not flinching.

He slipped his hands in his pockets, and from his coat, the guys could hear a very faint clicking sound if they were close enough.

"You got til three."

"1...










"2..."

[The Administrator!!!]

The fact he, one guy. Just said that? They laughed... seriously, the young punks didn't know what to make of it.

"Bitch is fucking dead, man..." the loose pants kid just shook his head, shades rattling a bit. His vision inside the store is worse for them. His pants, loose enough that if he ran they'd fall. The belt was not even locked it was just there, around his waist. A skinny waist too.

The one with ink. His dangling nose ring was giving a slight shine. He laughed, too. It clacking as he just fell back on the counter slapping his hand. He had a ring, it had a demon head on it. It was jagged, sharp but really it looked nice. Rusty though, he didn't take good care of it.

The leader just snickered and leaned on the wall farthest from the man. He actually put his hands in his pockets, cocked his one leg onto the wall and looked at Frank like he's nuts. Maybe a homeless retard, he didn't think anything of him.

The other, younger kid he was tall. He had a baseball cap, bent to the one side. Lots of golden necklaces hanging on his neck loosely, with a necklace of gold barbwire. He had a bling-ring knuckle set, saying 'BAD-ASS' and with it the weak knuckled kid didn't have a way to even think of using them, else snap his own fist.

Then the one by Frank. The one with the coat. He raised a brow. His match still lit, his cig took light. He puffed, and took the cig out his mouth, in his right hand and just blew smoke toward Frank. Then he heard this click.... he looked down to his pocket.... a gun...? A cop? He swallowed with sweat starting to form. A cop? They own the cops... PS owns the cops... here.... he narrowed his eyes, and reached down dropping his lighter... he was going to smoke this cop. Smoke him now, take the rap from the boss later...

[Frank Castle]

"3"

With a blur of motion, Frank whipped the box cutter he kept in his pocket through the closest thugs throat, carving nicely through the carotid artery with the razor sharp edge. Watching the soon to be dead ganger fall, Frank snatched his gun from his hands, and raised it to aim.

He then pulled the trigger twice without hesitation, obliterating the face of the thug with the chains.

Then he slips behind the shelves of the convenience store.

[The Administrator!!!]

The sudden change of things took all of them off guard. Even if they had their guns drawn. They didn't have the 'response' time of a man that knew how to really use a gun. It's then they saw one falling back dead from the slice on his neck. The boss, felt the splatter of the man with chains on his face. Turning to his dead body with hardly a face to recognize as...

"Shit!!! Tommy!!!" He fell to his knees, "Man, that's my little brother you... you mother fucker!!!" He started firing. Shooting the windows, and the racks. Yet not where the man dove. He just shot. That's the tactic he used. Shoot and shoot and shoot.

The man with the nose-ring fucking flipped, quite literally. He flipped up over the counter he was laughing on just from the sound of gun fire. When he peaked back, the boss is shooting randomly. Shit... he saw two down, and so he grabbed his gun and started to just shoot too. That's their plan shoot. Shoot like mad. Shoot until the bullets stop.

That's a bad plan... bad plan...

The other guy, had tumbled back screaming. His shades, he can't see. Yet he's on his ass just shooting insanely all around him. Toward the man that he thought shot someone. Really he's shooting the wooden indian and he thought he took off an arm, but when he saw the man still standing he kept on firing.

They fire, and fire. Until the clicking. All clicks, no bullets. Even not one tried to reload. They just watched, and looked at the shit they shot up. Then the one leader, lost his brother. He sniffled and dropped his clip, grabbing the next loaded one...

[Frank Castle]

Frank suddenly popped up from behind the gangers. As they fired wildly, he had spent the time sneaking up on their unprotected backs.

Amateurs.

Pressing the barrel of the gun to the back of the head of the reloading ganger, Frank said one thing, "They put the sights on top for a reason," he then pulled the trigger of his gun twice, "Whoops."

He then dropped back down into cover.

[The Administrator!!!]

The leader fell forward dead. The loose pants guy was turning and pulling back over the floor aiming a unloaded gun. Clicking it, then he fumbled into his coat for the mag. He can't find it... he can't find it... shit... "Shit! Man! Shit!"

He can't find it!!!

The other man, was Devon. He was behind the counter. He shoved his gun into the loop of his pocket. Then he worked around, looking for it...

He found the sawed off shotgun the owner had. Then he checked and it's loaded. A smirk, he clicked it shut and waited. This bitch won't stay quiet long... he peeked over the edge of the counter seeing the one guy freaking out he can't get himself together. So he glared for the man. Where'd he go...?

[Frank Castle]

That's when the box cutter slashed through nose ring's hamstring and then his stabbed into his radial nerve, effectively numbing the man's hand permanently. Frank had used the counter as cover to crawl closer to the ganger, making the quick strike much easier.

Moving back across the floor, he popped up a few feet away from where he left nose ring, and put a bullet into each of baggy's legs, making sure he couldn't walk away.

Finally standing up, he stalked up to nose ring, and kicked the shotgun out of reach, "You, me, and your friend there are gonna have a nice little chat," and grabbed the ganger by the ring, dragging him across the floor next to his friend.

[The Administrator!!!]

This is where the foul language started. First, nose-ring was cussing about his hand and leg... and his buddy his legs. But the real cussing was when they were thrown together and that's about when Nose ring, Devon, just said, "Mother fucker know who the fuck we work for? He'll have your ass in a body bag after this. You know that, you bitch ass cock sucker. I'll make sure he puts you in the ground like that fucking family we iced. I'll fucking make sure personally, he ices this whole fucking store's family too! just because of you!"

As for loose pants? He kept crying over his legs. Not really even aware there's a 'talk' going on.

[Frank Castle]

Without hesitating, or even looking, Frank puts a bullet into the head of baggy pants, "I know who you work for, and he's who I want," Frank point the gun at nose ring, "and you're going to tell me how I'm going to find him."

Frank then brandishes the box cutter.

"No matter how long it takes."

[The Administrator!!!]

Seeing his pal dead... he responds, the best way he can... besides pissing himself...

"F-f-fuck you.... bitch...." he was afraid of two men. This man. And the other man. The one he didn't know, but knew who was inclined to kill someone as useless as him. He swallowed a lump in his throat before just looking at Frank. Not sure what was going to happen.

[Frank Castle]

"Well then," says Frank, "I guess it's time I get some work done."

He then leaned down, and opened the shirt of the now dead baggy pants, cutting it cleanly into two sections.

He then begins to carve something into the dead man's chest. At first it looked like letters, but slowly a picture began to form. A picture of an angry looking skull, made all the more horrifying by the blood.

Castle knew that sometimes, torture could be as important on the mental front as it could on the physical. He didn't expect this kid to be physically tough, but if he showed there was nothing he wasn't willing to do, it just might loosen his tongue a bit.

Finally finishing the carving, he turned to nose ring.

"Now that that's done, you rethink your position yet?"