A man who has lost much. A man forever making war on those who took so much from him. A special man. One whose army training marked him as a natural marksman. This is a man obsessed with vengeance. With retribution against those that killed his family a long time ago. Some call him insane, others calculatingly cruel. Where those who would strike against the innocent go, he follows. His mission is a simple one. Street criminals must be made to pay for their crimes. His is the man exacting that payment . He is judge, jury and executioner. He is
The thugs stand and wait amid the shadows. Their kind always do. Their prey is approaching. A
family, leaving a basketball game at Madison Square Garden. The father and mother, the young
son and daughter. The boy is all grins, carrying the pennant of his favorite team and waving it
proudly.
"Good" Thinks the Rocco Laurioso. He'll want that pennant for his own wall when he takes it
from the brats hand. Next to him , hidden in the shadow is his buddy "Goliath" Johnson. His real
name is Malcolm, but Goliath, or "Gig G" just doesn't like being called by his real name. Sounds
to wimpy for the big man.
The group approaches the alley. Rocco fingers the knife he stole from the hunting store on 34th
street, while Big G nervously plays with the trigger on the gun he lifted from that old man who
died in his apartment last week. Big G nods at Rocco and they both reach out, grabbing the two
kids, dragging them into the alley as the parents react without thinking, chasing and screaming
after the two punks. Rocco drops the boy and turns to the father, who is running as fast as his out
of shape body can go. The knife comes up , glinting in the moonlight."This is gonna be sooo
easy ." Thinks Rocco. That's when all hell breaks loose.
Suddenly, a shot rings out and Roccos hand is stinging like hell . "What the F**K??" He screams, dropping the boy altogether, and staring at, no THROUGH his hand. A big. Gaping hole in his hand. "Malcolm!" He shouts, forgetting all about Big G's hatred of that name."What'd you go and sh-shoot me for?" His only answer is a gurgling sound from Malcolms direction. The family meanwhile, runs out of the alley ,screaming for help as the father ushers them along. Turning he sees something that scares him so much he soils his pants. There's a man, a big dark haired man standing above Malcolm, holding a knife that's in Malcolms throat, and protruding out the other side. Almost fascinated, Rocco stops and stares as blood gushes from the back of Malcolms throat. The big man turns toward him, and Roccos heart definitely skips a beat. This guy's wearing a skull on his shirt. A big , glow in the dark white skull.
"Oh My God" Sputters the horrified gang banger, "You're him, you're the PUNISHER!"
He turns to run, but it's to late, as a second knife is thrown, and this one pierces his calf, dropping Rocco in his tracks.
"Oh my God, Oh my God.." Sputters the punk as he tries to crawl away from the advancing Punisher. Then the man speaks.
"Your God is not going to help you punk. I know you're not talking to the God I used to know. The God I'm talking about is the one that's caring and loving. He may not love me much because of what I do, but he knows I'm here to take care of scumbags like you. Get ready scumbag. You're going to meet your God, and I have a feeling it's in a very hot place."
Still fingering his knife, having hidden it underneath him, Rocco turns, and slashes at the Punisher from his crawling position, slashing at the Punishers leg.
"Get away from me you friggin' psycho! Lemme alone!"
"Oh I don't think so scumbag."
The Punisher grabs the punk by the ankle, oblivious to the blood dripping down his own thigh and drags the punk to a fire escape across the alley.
"Wha-what are ya doin' to me man?? Lemme alone. I ain't done nothin' What's wrong wit you? Lemme be man."
"Oh I'll let you alone Scumbag, but only when I'm done with you. You like preying on people who are out to have a good time? You like hurting innocents? Makes you feel big doesn't it. You and your knife huh?"
He rips the knife from Roccos hand, then holds it up to the light , appraising it.
"Nice craftsmanship. Where'd you steal this from loser?"
"I-I uh, from 34th St. uh, hunting shop."
" To bad. He's not going to want it back when you an I are done with it."
"Huh? What d'you mean man? what's goin' on here? "
The Punisher pulls a plastic zip tie from his belt and ties Roccos right hand to the fire escape with it .
"We're going to play a game punk, until the cops get here. Here's your knife." He tosses the knife at Roccos feet. "Okay , here's what we're going to do. You're going to decide to wait for the cops to come and get you, or you're going to take the knife and cut that tie off your wrist. But remember, you better be damn fast. I see you cut that strap , you're dead."
Wordlessly , The Punisher turns and walks away , as sirens sound close by. Obviously coming toward Rocco. Rocco looks nervously around, like a rat in a trap. "F**K it." He thinks, "This psychos gotta be long gone. He ain't stickin' around when the cops are nearby." Throwing himself at the knife , the last thing Rocco overhears is the crack of a hi powered rifle from an adjacent rooftop, the instant his hand touches the knifes hilt. Then for Rocco Laurioso, all goes black..permanently.
"Punishers war journal entry 7893. Two more wannabes are out of the fight tonight. Two more who would've one day worked for some Mob boss or another. Punks. Two less society has to bear the upkeep of while some whining fools tried to rehabilitate them. Feh. Your tax dollars at work . Right."
Frank Castle pulled his battle Van into a darkened garage, hidden deep in Brooklyn. In a moment a hidden generator began to hum, once the Vans "Identity" was recognized. This whole area was in an abandoned and condemned block of buildings. Using money he had taken over the years to fund the "War", Castle and Microchip had dozens of these safe houses hidden, all over the tri-state area. He never stayed more then a night in each one. Especially since Linus died. Microchip was his friend. At least he used to be. Now he was dead. And Castle was alone.
"Good." He thought. Not good his one friend was dead, but good he was alone. Better off this
way. He was a fool to drag 'Chip into this in the first place. Hitting a button on a console, Castle
watches as several TV monitors come to life. Cameras across this buildings roof swing slowly
back and forth, scanning the area for cops , or worse. Seeing nothing, Castle retires to the living
area, secure that the buildings alarms will warn him of any intrusion.
An hour later Castle is asleep. As always his dreams are tortured and tumultuous . Once again he
sees the idyllic day in the park. His wife and children are with him, enjoying the lite banter and
fun, as Frank Castiglione tosses a ball to his young son. Later, a lunch of sandwiches is brought
out of the small cooler, when something catches the corner of Franks eye. He spins his head as a
black Cadillac thunders onto the grass, followed by another black car. Now it goes into slow
motion, as Frank turns his head , yelling at his wife and children to get down, but it's to little, to
late. As bullets fly through the air, leaden death finding the mark , but not where they were
meant to. When the gunshots are done, and the turmoil is over, Frank Castiglione drags his
wounded body over to his family, screaming their names over and over. But they do not answer
him. They cannot. That moment Frank Castiglione died, and Frank Castle, the Punisher was
born.
He was born Frank Castiglione in a small village in Italy. Before he could speak his first words
his father moved the family to America , the land of opportunity. His father worked hard all his
life. Sometimes sixteen hour days , to feed his family. But he was a good , proud man. When the
family relocated to Queens, NY he wanted them to be Americans, to be proud of their new
country, so he had the family name Americanized to Castle from Castiglione. Franks fathers
proudest moment was watching his boy get married. Maria was a beautiful bride, and a good
wife. Several years later Franks father passed away from working himself to hard, a year later
Franks Mother followed him to the eternal rest. Then three years later Franks entire family died.
In his heart of hearts he still considered himself a Castiglione, but after this, after these men who
were from the same land as himself killed his family, he wanted nothing to do with anything that
reminded him of his past. No, he was truly now Frank Castle, The Punisher.
Something stirs Castles restless sleep. Instincts like a jungle cat awaken him, but he doesn't
move in the transition from sleep to waking world. Slitting his eyes in the darkness he sees a
figure moving , looking over his equipment , his work station, and his weapons. Reaching under
his mattress and against the wall The Punisher removes a hidden nine millimeter pistol, and then
, like a leopard attacking his prey , he leaps up and away from his unseen guests line of site,
shouting "Freeze dead man. Flinch once and the grave will be waiting."
The man slowly raises his hands upwards, palms out. "I mean you no harm. I have come to ...talk."
"Do I know you?"
"No Mr Castle, but I know you. I've come to make you a job offer. Something that will ensure your war goes on a long , long time."
Frank says nothing for a moment, working his way towards his "guests" side. "I don't do hits. I'm not in this for the money. Whatever your problem is get our of here while you can still walk."
The man turns towards him and smiles . " No Mr. Castle, let me speak please. I represent a group who are in agreement with your ways and methods. We seek to come up with a long term contract with you concerning employment for you."
"Hahahaha, you want to hire me? I'm no ones watchdog that can be put on a chain. What I do I have my reasons for. Now get out. Last warning. Or be carried , your choice."
"It is funny you use the term "Watchdog" Mr Castle. No, you see I represent the Scourge committee. We are the Scourge of evil . We are everywhere my friend. Our operations have resulted in many members of organized crime, as well as Super-villains being permanently disposed of."
"And you want me to be your enforcement arm right? I don't think so . I've played the Gov'ts little spy games before, and always ended up on the short end of the stick. "
"No Mr Castle, we do not want you to do anything, save train our ...pupils."
Frank looks on incredulously, stunned by what the stranger has just now told him.
"You want me to be a teacher? I'm a warrior, a soldier. That's my lot in life. I've come to accept that. No thanks ."
The man shrugs his shoulders, turning away. That is a shame Mr Castle. The opportunity was
here for you to be taken off of the street permanently. No more hiding in musty old condemned
buildings." He gestures to the room they're in. "No more being on the run constantly , unable to
trust anyone. No more being friendless in this cold world our kind operate in."
Frank stops and listens for a moment, and considers. To be amongst his own kind. Men who
believe in the mission, at least almost as much as he does. No more hiding in shadows. He
suddenly realizes how weary he truly is. For years he's fought this war, and for every one he's
"retired" three more rear their ugly heads. The time has come perhaps to think about allies. Then
his mind falls back to Microchip, and how Frank failed him. Linus, his friend.
"Alright, you have my attention. What's in this for me?"
"Everything I have already mentioned my friend, and much , much more. You will have a new
identity, a new home and a real life. A home, and if you want, a family."
"That's something I can never have again. What do you want from me? No one does something
for nothing. What's your need in this?
" One thing only. You have to....dispose of our former instructor. He has become a ..... Liability
of late."
" So this is how you take care of your own huh? You're no better then the Mob. You just talked me out of the deal dirtbag."
The Punisher raises his pistol again, in a lightning quick motion and draws a bead on the still
smiling strangers eye.
"Mr Castle, please. You do not understand. This man is a known felon who we sort to
rehabilitate. He has left our care and seeks to bring notice to our operations."
"Who is this guy? What's his name? "
The man smiles under his wide brimmed hat and slowly removes an envelope from his jacket, as
the Punisher continues to train his pistol unwaveringly on the mans eye. Slowly he opens the
envelope and deposits it on the console before them. Out slips a photograph of a man in a long
white cape, with a deaths grin mask. He wears a shield on one arm, a bow is slung over his
shoulder, as well as a few other weapons on his person.
The Punisher looks long and hard at the photo. His memory is still not one hundred percent complete after his recent loss, but it's close. Still, somethings escape him.
"Who is he? What's his name?"
The mystery man smiles again . "His name is the Taskmaster. He's a master villain who can
mimic the powers and abilities of anyone he studies. He has something called "photographic
reflexes". He's been our trainer for ages, and now he's left. He's threatening to blow our cover.
The guys a loose cannon. If any of our enemies find out our location , we'll be wiped out
completely, and our......... mission will be over."
Castle stares intently at the photo, as his head seems to spin slightly, but this seems like an
opportunity of a lifetime for him. "Look, I need time to think about this. Get out of here before I
change my mind about killing you. I'll contact you tomorrow. Leave a number where I can reach
you."
The mans voice answers him, but it's no longer next to him, it's off in the distance , at the other
end of the warehouse."We'll be in touch with you Mr Castle, tomorrow then."
The Punisher turns slowly, scanning his headquarters for the man who visited him, but there is
no sign. Then his hand reaches for the envelope once more, and the photo of the Taskmaster. He
takes the photo and walks toward a wall . Reaching into his belt he removes a knife and pins the
photo of the Taskmaster to the wall with vehemence , right through the face.
End Chapter One
Capital Punishment C/O
A lot of you may be asking yourselves, "Why the hell is Ralph doing a Punisher series? His thing
is high powered heroes." Well you're right. I like larger then life cosmic types. They have the
most destruction potential. But seriously, why am I doing this? Blame Randy Lander. He
suggested this to me about six months ago, and here it is. This will be a four issue mini-series
that (I hope) will redefine and refocus the man who is the Punisher. There will be a lot of staring
into ol' Frank Castles mind the next few months. There will be a few revelations , as well as a
whole hell of a lot of action in these pages, especially next issue, when The Punisher squares off
against the man whose place he's looking to take, the Taskmaster. Expect a slam bang battle here
in the mighty MV1 manner. I hope you like this, let me know either way. Mail is the lifes blood
of an Internet author, so I look forward to your responses here and in my other titles.
Take care,
---Ralph