The Skull Emblem

A Story by Bobby Madden

For years, I wanted to write a Punisher fan-fiction. I am so proud that I have finally accomplished that goal.

The Punisher. That is what people call me. I’ve devoted my life to purging the world of injustice and evil. It all started when my entire family was killed. During my last operation as an agent, many people died, and one of the deceased was the son of a man named Howard Saint. When Howard found out, he ordered the death of my family, as wished by his wife Livia Saint. My family’s death was from an act of vengeance. When I killed the Saint family, it was from an act of punishment. Months went by after my family died and not a single arrest had been made about it. When the authorities are too incompetent to enforce the law, I punish those who are left unpunished by this broken system. I have enemies who enforce the law and enemies who act outside it, but I do what needs to be done so the innocent do not suffer the same fate as my family.

I do have a fair share of allies, nevertheless, one of which is named Mickey. I stayed in contact with him after I moved away from Joan. One day, Mickey came to me with a message. Mickey has a friend named Floyd Thomson. Floyd was a pimp, and lately, his escorts have been disappearing. Mickey told Floyd a little of my handiwork, and Floyd wanted someone of my talents to investigate the disappearance of his escorts and offered to pay me if I offer assistance. I wondered why Floyd hadn’t bothered investigating himself, and I was told he was too afraid of going missing himself. I was willing to accept some extra cash. I made my decision. I’d do what I could to help.

I took a drive to a street corner that was frequently used by his prostitutes. I surveyed the scene from afar inside my green 1968 Plymouth Satellite. Two escorts were standing next to each other, waiting for potential buyers. Anyone who approached was a reasonable suspect, and eventually, I saw one of the escorts get in a car with someone, and I followed the car until it parked behind an abandoned factory, which seemed like a peculiar place to take an escort. I parked behind a building close to the one behind which the driver parked to keep my distance. The driver got out. He was wearing a white cassock with a Roman collar, a red chard, red buttons, and a white cape, which I also found peculiar. He went over to the other side, opened the door, took the girl onto his right shoulder, and closed the door. The girl made no struggle. She was unconscious. For some odd reason I had a feeling this man had some involvement with the disappearances.

I was glad I chose to follow him, and I was glad I hadn’t pulled up to the corner after this girl was taken. I had good luck with suspects throughout my careers in the FBI and the CTU. The driver must have drugged the girl at some point on the way here. It was either that or he knocked her out with a blow to the temple. This suspect carried her into the factory through a rear entry. This was the time to exit my vehicle. I was more than adequately equipped for this job, as I was for every job I’ve ever had. I have my Colt M1911A1’s, my Mossberg 590 “Compact Cruiser”, and an Emerson Combat Karambit. I will only open fire if it is absolutely needed, as I wanted to avoid attracting attention to myself. I walked up to the door, opened it lightly, and peered inside. The place was dimly lit by the moonlight through the rectangular windows in the ceiling. I entered the factory and took an observation of the multitudinous conveyer belts. Nobody was in sight. Where would the girl have been taken? Suddenly, I heard footsteps to my right.

There seemed to be a stairwell in that direction, leading to a lower level. I crept forth and several steps came into view lit by a florescent red light at the bottom. Possible activity was being taken place down there. I upholstered one of my Colts and began my descent. I don’t intend to fire unless ultimately necessary but having a gun pointed at someone’s head can be an effective method of persuasion. I left the stairwell and stepped forward. On the right was a hallway with several doors on either side. On the left I saw something that looked like a giant storage facility. The corner of the wall in front of me reduced its visibility from where I was standing. I was contemplating which direction in which to walk. Then, I heard a voice. “Welcome, my brethren.” The deep voice echoed at my left, and an orange aura emitted from around the corner. I walked up to the wall with my Colt held high, and I sidled to the corner, with the intent of hearing what the speaker had to say. “I have gathered you here for a ceremonial tribute to our noble and glorious Lord.” Tribute. No time to waste.

I stepped around the corner. In addition to a lot of storage containers and factory equipment, I saw the escort from before lying on a stone table with numerous candles positioned around her. Standing around the tables were about ten guys dressed in cassocks that looked exactly like the one I saw the driver wearing. They had Berettas strapped to their sides. Confusion slapped me across the face but I stayed focused. “The girl is coming with me,” I said, with my Colt pointed at the strangers. One of the figures in white was facing away from me, but after I spoke, he turned to face me. The candlelight was now behind him, and his face was out of view. He spoke with a voice like running water. “The Punisher, I presume. Word has reached me of you and your talents. It is an honor to see you in person. However, I am afraid this is a private ceremony, and I ask that you leave at once,” the figure said. “This girl is coming with me. Anyone who attempts to obstruct me will die,” I said back. The man in front of me scoffed. “Allow me to explain. This human is unclean. She is a disgrace to humanity and must be allowed to die. Taking her life will make this world one step closer to absolute purity and will appease our Lord tremendously. Tell me. Why do you care so much for this stranger?” the figure asked. I had no intention of standing here and having a conversation all night.

I began to approach the table, disregarding the presence of the freaks and proceeding to execute my intention of getting the girl out of here. “Kill him!” the figure shouted. Some of the men in white raised weapons at me. Immediately, I rolled away behind a nearby rectangular column. Bullets were flying past me but thankfully this column was wide enough to provide fortification. I took a shot to the chest but my Kevlar took care of it. Why don’t my assailants ever shoot me in the head? It had to be the skull emblem on my chest. Shooters must be psychologically drawn it considering all gunfire I ever took was in the chest. The gunfire continued, and I was cornered, but luckily, I had a flashbang grenade on my person. I set down my gun, removed the grenade from my belt, pulled out the pin, and chucked it towards the shooters. “Grenade!” I heard someone say. I closed my eyes, plugged up my ears, and a flash and a bang lit up the room. The light penetrated my eyelids and the sound circumvented my fingers. After a second, I opened my eyes, picked up the Colt, and went around the column. I crouched down, pulled out my other Colt, and began firing at every man I saw in a white outfit. The men in cassocks were too disoriented to respond. I emptied the clips, firing ferociously, and saw the bodies fall one by one. I made sure I didn’t hit the girl. I returned to a full stance. I ejected the clips, holstered the right Colt and reloaded my left one. I holstered the left one, upholstered the right one and reloaded that one as well. I kept it upholstered and had it pointed to the fallen foes, one of which I could see was still moving. Was it the one who spoke to me before? I wanted information.

“Who are you people?” I asked. The fallen enemy coughed hard, struggling to breathe. His hand was on a bloody chest. “We are called The White Light,” he muttered. I could already tell from his voice this wasn’t the person who spoke to me earlier. “Where are the other escorts?” I asked. “Our leader has them. I don’t know where he keeps them,” he replied. “Who is your leader and where can I find him?” He gazed up into my eyes. “White Dragon,” he said, softly. “I don’t know where to find him, but I know someone who does. His name is Vincent Calvenese. I don’t know where he lives, but I know where he works. Go to the nightclub called The Angel of Lust. It’s a few blocks away from here.” He chuckled, and his breathing was heavy. “It doesn’t matter what you do. This city will be dead, and soon, the world will be cleansed as White Dragon aspires.” “You seem to know a lot. Why don’t I just keep you alive?” I asked. The man quickly reached for a nearby Beretta, and I unloaded a bullet in his hand. He screamed, leaning his head back. He held his bloody, trembling hand towards his face and gazed at it, giving a mortified expression. “What do you mean by the world will be cleansed?” I asked. The man looked up at me with widened eyes. His hand slowly fell to the ground, his head tilted to his left. He was dead.

I examined the other bodies and saw that everyone else was dead, except for the escort that was still lying under the candlelight. I approached her and lightly slapped her face a few times. Her head swayed, and she let out a brief moan. “Wake up,” I said. Her eyes remained closed. I holstered my Colt and lifted her onto my right shoulder. Well, I extricated the girl. After I drop her off with Floyd, my next stop will be The Angel of Lust. I needed to have a little chat with Vincent Calvenese. I don’t know much about this little group called the White Light, but I know I don’t like them, and the subject I interrogated earlier didn’t make me more tolerant of them. I walked up the stairs under the red light with the girl on my shoulder, and I made my way to the car. I opened the right door to the back seat and laid her on her back. She was really pretty. She was Japanese. She had long black hair, fishnet leggings, fishnet fingerless gloves, a black top, a red skirt, and black boots. I closed the door, got in the driver’s seat, turned on the car, and started driving. I made my way to Floyd’s penthouse. Floyd was standing outside. I pulled up in front of him, got out of the car, and opened the left door to the back seat. “Oshima!” Floyd said, seeming relieved. I picked her up onto my shoulder again and walked to the penthouse door. Floyd rushed over to hold the door open for us. I nodded to him. I sat her down on a couch in the lobby. Floyd fetched two chairs and put them in front of her. He grabbed a glass of water from the front desk. He sat down in one of the chairs and swung the glass towards her, getting water all over her face. She sat up with eyes wide open. “What the f**k?” she asked. Well, I suppose that’s one way to wake someone up. “Oshima! Are you okay?” Floyd asked. “What happened? Last thing I remember was I was in a guy’s car.” It was time for an explanation.

“You were kidnapped by your last costumer,” I informed. She instantly looked up at me. “You were being held captive at an abandoned factory by a cult by the name of the White Light, and you were to be offered as a sacrifice. I found you, killed every one member in sight, and brought you here.” Oshima looked down, breathing heavily, obviously trying to digest all the information. She looked back up at me, with her eyebrows pushed together. “Who are you?” she inquired. “The Punisher,” I answered. “What about everyone else?” Floyd asked. “Working on it. Stay here until I come back with more of your girls. If I don’t come back with someone it’s because she’s dead.” “…Dead?” Floyd asked, timidly. “I’ll expect payment next time I return.” I looked down at Oshima. “Unless you wanna die, consider another profession,” I said. Floyd looked at Oshima and pointed two fingers at her face. “You’ll do no such thing, you understand? You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do,” he said. I pulled Floyd’s head back by his hair with my left hand, upholstered the Colt from my left holster with my right hand, and pressed it right between his eyes. "I’ve been in favor of the legalization of prostitution for as long as I’ve known prostitution existed but if you wanna treat your escorts like slaves…” I cocked the Colt. “…I’ll treat your face like a target.” I released Floyd and holstered the gun. “Sorry…” Floyd muttered, looking at me in fear. “Apologize to her, not me. Keep your escorts off the street corners until I say it’s safe.”

I walked out of the unlit penthouse and approached my Plymouth Satellite. I heard the door behind me open. “Wait!” It was Oshima’s voice. “Let me come with you!” she said. “No. Stay here,” I replied, without looking back. “Please! I don’t wanna stay here with Floyd,” she said. “Then go home.” “This is where I live. I have nowhere else to go.” She walked a bit closer. “You saved my life. You don’t even know how thankful I am. I knew the girls were missing but I didn’t think they were captured. Those girls are my friends. I wanna help you,” she said. “I don’t need your help,” I said back. “I’d be ashamed to be left behind. I’ve never heard of you but I understand what you are. I’d rather try to help you and fail than not try at all. I won’t be a burden. I promise. If I ever do anything to displease you, just throw me to the side of the road and I’ll be on my own.” This girl was persistent. She made it clear that I didn’t have to keep her around if she ever failed to appease me. I had nothing to lose. If she ever attempted to deceive me, there’d be a bullet right in her pretty face before she could accuse me of being gullible. I walked over to the driver’s door. “Get in,” I said. She complied. She got in the passenger’s seat. I opened the driver’s door and got in after her. Then, I opened the glove compartment and pulled out an M9. “Ever fired a gun before?” I asked. “Yes.” “Ever killed a man before?” “Yes.” “Keep that on your person. Use it only when I give you permission,” I said. She took the gun and set it in her lap. She looked at me with two beautiful eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “What’s your name again?” I inquired. “Oshima desu,” she answered. I nodded to her. “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu,” I said. She smirked. I closed the door, started the car, and drove off. This girl might prove herself useful to me. If she wasn’t so pretty, I probably would’ve left her. “Where are we going?” she asked. “The Angel of Lust,” I answered. “I used to work there,” Oshima said. “Why’d you stop?” I asked, with my eyes on the road. “Fired,” she replied. She pulled out a box of cigarettes and a lighter from her top. She put a cigarette in her mouth, lit it, inhaled, removed the cigarette, and exhaled smoke. “One of the guys watching me dance thought it’d be a good idea to smack me on the a*s. I punched him in the face. Broke his jaw. Got fired.”

“You know how to fight?” I asked. “My father taught me about hand to hand combat. That was before he disowned me and threatened to kill me if he ever saw me again,” she said. “Why’d he do that?” I asked. Oshima chuckled. “He caught me in bed with two white guys with black lipstick when I was fifteen. By the time the b*****d grabbed his katana, the guys f*****g booked. After that I went through five straight minutes of getting beaten with a bamboo stick. Apparently, that wasn’t a good enough punishment.” She took another puff of her cigarette, exhaled, and looked at me. “Since you call yourself the Punisher, you must have a certain perspective on punishment. On what basis do you punish others?” she asked “When people are responsible or would be responsible for evil onto others,” I answered. “Pretty noble for a guy in a trench coat. What made you undertake this lifestyle of rescuing prostitutes from psycho cult members?” she asked. “I do what people are too incompetent to do themselves,” I answered. “You mean the cops? What gives you the right to judge them?” Oshima asked, “My entire family was killed and after almost half a year not a single arrest was made.” She was silent for a moment. “Frank Castle?” she asked. I nodded. “I should have known,” she said. “I probably would’ve killed myself if I went through the s**t you did,” she said. “Bad memories are worth keeping for the sake of keeping good ones,” I remarked. I pulled up to the front of club. “We’re here,” I said. “Why are we here exactly?” she asked. “I need Intel from someone who works here,” I replied. “What’s his name?” she asked. “Vincent Calvenese.” I got out of the car and shut the door. “He’s a bartender here. What do you want to know from him?” she asked. “The location of the leader of the White Light,” I replied. “What makes you think he’d know?” she asked. “One of the cult members said he’d know,” I said back. We walked up to the front doors. I looked over to Oshima. “Where’s your gun?” I asked. “Bra,” she replied. I looked ahead. “Resourceful,” I remarked. I opened the door for Oshima, and she walked in before me.

I followed her in and found myself in a lobby full of what appeared to be show flyers. There were three steps ahead of us leading upward. On the right was a small area for ticket takers. We walked up the steps and stopped in front of the front desk. A pale tattooed girl with green hair and a lip ring was standing there. She looked at us, smiling. “Over or under?” she asked. “Over,” I replied. I reached for my ID in my coat pocket and handed it to her. “Frank Castle. I’ve heard of you! You came back from the dead!” she said, sounding excited. She checked me out. “You’re much sexier in person!” I just looked her in the eyes, and she nibbled on her lower lip. I always had a certain effect on girls that I found amusing. “What about your friend?” the ticket taker asked. Oshima reached in her shirt and pulled out her ID. How much s**t was she keeping in her bra? Surprisingly, she was twenty-one. She looked like she was sixteen. “All right, it’s 12 a person,” the girl said. I pulled out a fifty. It was all I had on me. I always did have plenty of cash on me. I’m not even halfway through the suitcase of cash I filled up at the Saint building not that long ago. The green-haired girl handed me thirty-sex in change. “Have a nice time! And if you feel like having an extra person in your bed tonight, I get off work at 2.” Oshima looked up at me. “I’m down if you are,” Oshima said. If only I didn’t have s**t to do. “Come on,” I said, motioning towards the double doors down the hall to the left.

I started walking and Oshima followed. I could already hear music playing. When I opened up the left door, the industrial music hit me right in the face. To the left of us was the bar. In front of us was a floor that extended about twenty feet ahead of us with a few steps in the front that descended to the dance floor. There was a walkway to the right of the steps that connected to the floor we were on. The walkway had a wall to the left for people who wanted to stand and rest their drinks on something while they enjoyed the spectacles. Several girls with goth dread falls, corsets, fishnet leggings, and fishnet fingerless arm warmers were dancing on stage. Fishnets were definitely in style for young girls this generation. The one on the left had green falls, the one in the middle had red falls, and the one on the right had blue ones. Plenty of girls in the crowd were dressed in similar attires to the girls on stage. Numerous streams of light with various colors were swaying in random directions all around the dance floor. I went over to the bar with Oshima, and we sat down on two stools right behind a guy with a white tuxedo with black tiger stripes. He had long straight black hair that was slighter shorter than Oshima’s. He turned around.

“What’ll it be?” he asked, in a volume slightly louder than the music. “Vincent Calvenese,” I said. “That’s me. Can I help you with something?” If I was going to have a chat with this guy, I needed to do so without music blasting in the background. “We need to talk. Come out front,” I said. “Sorry. I’m working.” “The other bartender can take over,” I said. There was a girl at the other end of the bar with blonde hair with black streaks. She wore a black top, and her double D’s were popping out. “I need information on White Dragon, the leader of the White Light.” He pushed his eyebrows together. “Who are you? A cop?” he asked. I pulled out the Colt in my left holster and held it pointing at his chest with my wrist resting on the bar. “I’m not gonna tell you again. Come out front,” I said. He looked at the gun, perturbed. “Whatever. Let’s go.” I holstered the Colt and looked at Oshima, motioning toward the doors. Vincent headed for the doors and we followed. I hoped this guy wouldn’t do anything stupid. I wouldn’t want to have to injure or kill my only lead on the White Light. He opened the right door and held it open for us. At least he was capable of being polite. We walked through the lobby and went to the front doors. The girl at the front desk spoke to us. “Remember not to leave without me!” she said. I could always come back on another night and bring her home with me if I wasn’t busy. We all went outside. The refreshing night air flew into my lungs. Vincent turned around to look at us. Oshima and I stood before him. “Happy now?” he asked. “Where can I find White Dragon?” I asked. “First you tell me who you are and why the f**k you’re looking for him. I know you’re not a cop ‘cause a cop would’ve showed me a badge before pulling out a f*****g gun,” he said. “I’m the Punisher. The White Light is going around kidnapping prostitutes. One of whom they kidnapped is standing next to me. I saved her before they could kill her.” Vincent’s eyes were widened. He blinked a few times and then looked at the ground. He looked back up at me. “The leader’s name is Carmen Calvenese. He’s my brother,” he informed.

“I’m not in the cult. I don’t know much about it. Not that long ago, my brother revealed to me that he was the leader of a cult called the White light. He told me they worshipped a deity whose name was only known to cult members, and they devoted their lives to finding purity and spiritual enlightenment. He asked me to join and I said no, since I’m an Atheist and I have no intention of seeking purity or spiritual enlightenment. He gave me a location of where to find him if I ever changed my mind. I would undergo some sacred ritual and be one of them. I thought the whole thing was f*****g retarded but I never expected anyone in the cult to be dangerous,” he said. “I believe they have hostages. Tell me where Carmen said you could find him,” I said. “If you’re so worried about Carmen, why don’t you just call the police?” Vincent asked. “You’re talking to the wrong guy about police, homie. The Punisher here is a vigilante,” Oshima remarked. “What the f**k do you have against police?” Vincent asked. “They either make things worse or do nothing at all. They can’t help us.” I said. “Well you seem like a motivated guy, but what’s gonna happen if you find my brother?” I asked. “Kill him if I find out he was involved with the disappearances,” I declared. “You think I’m gonna let you do that?” he asked. “Your permission is irrelevant,” I said. “You wanna kill my bro to save a few f****n’ s***s?” Vincent asked. “Those f****n’ s***s are my friends, you a*****e,” Oshima said. “I have a reason to suspect Carmen is a threat to the entire city,” I said. “And who told you that?” Vincent asked. “A member of the cult. He said the city will be dead and entire world will be cleanses as White Dragon aspires,” I said. “He could’ve been lying,” Vincent said. “I was in the FBI and the CTU. I’ve seen a lot of s**t, and I know what someone looks like when he’s clinging to the truth,” I stated. Vincent lowered his eyes, put his hands on his hips, turned around, took a few steps, and took a gander at his surroundings. “Why would he want to kidnap hookers and cleanse the world anyway? I’m his brother and I never would have suspected him to do s**t like that, and even if I did, I wouldn’t have understood why,” Vincent said. Vincent turned to face me again. “First of all, even a blood relative can be ignorant of someone. Second of all, you said the cult members devoted their lives to finding purity,” I said. I took a few steps toward Vincent. I made eye contact with him and spoke to his face. “History is littered with religious groups trying to purge the world of people they dislike. People don’t worship the same god. People don’t live the same life. People are judged as blasphemous and impure, and when they are, extermination might be deemed sufficient,” I said. “What if he’s really not like that?” Vincent asked. “Tell me where to find him and I’ll make an assessment for myself,” I said. Vincent backed away. “If you go look for him, I’m going with you,” he said. “You can give me the location and stay here,” I said. “F**k that. I don’t want you around my brother without me with you,” he said. “As you wish,” I said. “It’s the abandoned mental hospital by the Saints and Sinners building,” Vincent said. I smirked. “What is it with these fuckers and abandoned buildings? I asked. “I’m not in the goddamn cult. How should I know?” Vincent said. “I’m warning you now. If you kill my brother when his death was not warranted, I will kill you,” Vincent said, pointing a finger in my face with a silver ring. “You’ll be welcome to try,” I said.

I walked up towards the car and got in the driver’s seat. Oshima got in the passenger seat and Vincent got in the seat behind me. It didn’t take a psychologist to realize Vincent wasn’t thrilled about the thought of his brother getting killed. Carmen would have to prove to Vincent that he was bat s**t insane for Vincent to not feel bitter about me busting a cap in his a*s. Killing is what I do. I don’t take prisoners or make citizen’s arrests. If someone needs to die for the sake of a better more peaceful world then he’ll die. “So, you go by the Punisher. My brother goes by White Dragon. Yall m***********s can call me White Tiger,” Vincent said. “What about me? What name should I have?” Oshima asked. “How about Tentacle Porn?” Vincent asked. “Very funny, a*****e. How about Black Widow?” Oshima said. “I’m sure that’s taken by someone,” Vincent remarked. “Oh and White Tiger isn’t?” Oshima asked. “Hell f****n’ no,” Vincent said. “Well my last name is Maki and that means ‘black pine’ in Japanese. I want a name with ‘black’ in it because the word ‘white’ is annoying the f**k out of me right now,” Oshima said. “Punisher, you should change your name to something with a color and a noun. Don’t you think?” I started the car, thrust my palm into my face, removed my palm, and started driving.

We were off to another abandoned building. “So, do I get a gun?” Vincent asked. “I have an M9 for you in the trunk, and I have two Kevlar vests for you two,” I said. “Are we going to war or something? Do the cult members even have guns?” Vincent asked. “Yes they do. They fired at me back at the factory,” I said. “Alright, but are you really gonna trust me with a gun when I could just shoot you in the head when you’re not looking?” Vincent asked. “You’d be dead before you pulled the trigger,” I said. “I’d be the one to shoot you if you tried that s**t,” Oshima said to Vincent. “You in love with this guy?” Vincent asked. “He saved my life. I owe him,” she said. “You owe me nothing,” I said to her. “Well aren’t you a selfless one?” Oshima asked. I pulled up to the abandoned mental hospital and drove around the back. I saw no cars, but if anyone else drives up I wouldn’t them to see a vehicle they didn’t recognize. “Well, one part of the quest is over,” Vincent said. He got out of the car first. Oshima made her exit and I was the last one out. I went to the trunk, inserted a key, and opened it up. Vincent joined me at my left and Oshima joined me at my right. I took out two Kevlar vests and handed them to them. “Put these on,” I said. Oshima put on hers, and Vincent undid the jacket of his tux, took it off, put the Kevlar around his dress vest, dress shirt, and tie, put the jacket back on, and buttoned it up. When they were done, I stood before them, preparing to say a little something to them before we headed in.

“Black Pine. White Tiger. You are with me not because I’ve forced you to be, but because you’ve elected to be of your own free will and I’ll welcomed you. However, that is not an implication that I am under an obligation to keep you around. At any moment I can cast either of you into oblivion with a single bullet. That doesn’t mean I want you to kiss my a*s. Just act like a partner and don’t make me feel like I’m babysitting you. While we’re in there, don’t let your guard down, and don’t let silence make you think you’re not in danger. Don’t be paranoid. Be vigilant, and do exactly as I say. By entering this place, you are acknowledging the possibility of you not getting out. We must terminate whoever is responsible for the disappearances of the escorts, rescue them if they’re alive, locate White Dragon, and interrogate him. We need to learn if he had any involvement with the disappearances and determine whether or not he is a threat to society. If he is not deemed a threat, his life may be spared. Have I been understood?” I said. “You have been understood,” Oshima said. “Crystal,” Vincent added. I nodded to them both.

I reached into the trunk and grabbed my M4A1.”Got one for me?” Vincent asked. “Sorry,” I said back. “So I get nothing but a handgun?” he asked. “Of course not,” I said. I reached for some clips for his M9 and handed them to Vincent. “Gee, thanks,” Vincent said, disappointed. This guy would have to earn the privilege to use one of my bigger guns. I reached for more clips and handed them to Oshima. “Might wanna make room in your bra,” I suggested. She rolled her eyes, took out her cigarettes and her lighter and handed them to me. “I’ll ask for them back soon,” she said. I put them in the trunk, shut it, and then looked at them both. “I’ll take point,” There was a fire exit. I walked up to it and couldn’t get it open, so I started walking around. The night seemed still. The streets were vacant. I was not complaining. Oshima and Vincent followed behind me. We got up to the front door. I opened it and saw that the lights were on.

I entered the asylum and my companions came in after. “These lights certainly didn’t turn on by themselves,” Vincent said. This place was a disaster. We were in the lobby. The floor was littered with rubble. There were a few stretchers in random spots of the lobby, some of which were knocked over. There was a map on the wall by the door next to a reception counter. I walked over to take a glance at it. This asylum had 5 floors. The room we were in had two doors, excluding the one we came through, which were on the end of the lobby opposite to the end with the front door. Both doors went to bathrooms and were located on the right. On the left was an opening that led to a cafeteria and a kitchen. There were two stairwells. One was located on the left end of the lobby spiraling upwards and one was on the right spiraling downwards. The left stairwell lead to a wing of patient cells and the floor above that contained the same outlook. The stairs to the right descended to a play area for the patients in addition to the hospital’s pharmacy. The bottom floor was reserved for the hospital’s most dangerous patients. It had numerous cells and the hospital’s storage unit. “Where should we look first?” Oshima asked. “Cafeteria,” I said. Part of it was visible but I wanted a better look. I aimed my M4A1 and strode onward. I came to the opening of the cafeteria and saw just as much rubble as there was in the lobby. The tables were long and connected to long seats, some of which were knocked over like the stretchers in the lobby. Nothing peculiar caught my eye. “Clear,” I said. “You think he’d hide out in the kitchen, Vincent?” Oshima asked. “Not unless he was cookin’ s**t and since I can’t smell anything but rubble I’ll assume he’s not,” Vincent replied. It did seem unlikely that he was in the kitchen but it wouldn’t hurt to look. “Stay here,” I said. I walked through the rubble in the cafeteria and made my way to kitchen. I saw a multitude of kitchen supplies like pots, pans, and stemware, but then when I looked at the wall of the kitchen that was to the right of the opening through which we came, and it bore graffiti in black spray paint. It said “STAY OUT!”

I made my way back to Oshima and Vincent and motioned towards the stairwell that went downwards. If I wasn’t so accustomed to seeing death and gore, this place would’ve probably creeped me out and I would have expected some guy in a straight jacket with a bag over his head and a liberty spike Mohawk of knives to appear out of nowhere and attack us. Of course, an attacker of that nature would be of no threat as I could put the f****r on the ground with an adequate application of bullets before he could even touch me, but the sight of him would’ve definitely given me a startle if I wasn’t already so callous to horror. Before I took the first step on the stairwell, I turned to Oshima and Vincent. They were scouring their surroundings and aiming their M9’s. They looked fairly steadfast like they had years of combat experience. I saw the bathroom doors behind them. “Anyone need a bathroom break?” I asked. They both shook their heads. It didn’t hurt to ask. I took a stride down the stairwell and got a glimpse of the activity room. It had a s**t ton of tables, chairs, rubble, board games, canvases, books, and toys all over the floor, but what I was exclusively captivated by was the circular stone platform in the middle of the room. There was blood on it. I entered the room and surveyed the scene, looking in all directions. The room was secure, but I discovered more graffiti, which was on the wall right across from the stairwell. It was in black spray paint just like what I saw in the kitchen. It said, “CATCH HIM!” in big letters, which repeated five times going across. “I wonder if this is referring to White Dragon,” Oshima said. “Either that or the Boogeyman,” Vincent replied. This tablet did not seem like something brought here by hospital employees before this place was abandoned. I stepped up to the stone and examined the blood. It looked fresh. I sensed Oshima and Vincent walking up behind me. “This is anecdotal evidence of the presence of the White Light,” Oshima said. “Either that or a homeless chick came in here and gave birth on this table,” Vincent said. “You know, you may think you’re funny, but you’re really not,” Oshima said. Vincent chuckled. I took a glimpse of the pharmacy and walked over to it, with my M4A1 still aimed as not to take my safety for granted. I looked over the counter and saw a lake of empty bottles. “Clear. Let’s keep moving. We’re going downstairs. If he’s not down there, we’ll check the upper levels. If he’s not up there, I’ll have to look for another lead. You sure Carmen wasn’t just f*****g with you when he told you to come here, Vincent?” I said. “I aint sure o’ s**t,” Vincent said.

The stairwell was lit by red florescent lights like the stairwell in the factory. The lowest level didn’t seem like an unlikely place for the leader of a cult to hide. I went down the stairwell with my M4A1 aimed straight ahead, and finally, I saw the room. More florescent red lights came into view. There was an empty desk that was most likely used by security guards. I stepped into the room and got a vantage. There was a walkway with cells on the left and right sides and a door at the very end which must have led to the storage room. I couldn’t see inside of the cells. Before I took the first step to investigate the room, I heard a voice. “Welcome.” The voice was on an intercom. I really didn’t enjoy hearing a voice on an intercom that spoke directly to me. It reminded me of the times the captain would call me into the office to b***h at me for stupid s**t. “Carmen,” Vincent said.

“I took the liberty of reinstalling power to this facility when I decided this would be a sufficient workplace for my endeavors. I have cameras installed all throughout this institution. Don’t bother trying to detect them as they’re rather inconspicuous. Vincent, I’m disappointed in you. I was optimistic that you would come here to join this wonderful community but that is not why you are here, now is it? You would have had a promising future with me. Well, now that you are here, I might as well tell you a little about myself that you might not have known. I have quite a fascination for science: more specifically, virology. I’ve succeeded in cultivating a unique element of life that can transform a sentient human being into a motionless corpse, reanimate its dead cells, and mutate its biological structure. You may have seen horror films utilize this idea and I have always had a dream of making that fictional concept a reality for my own purpose. Now, let’s talk about humanity for a brief moment. Humanity is corruption incarnate. Your ways are quire loathsome. You build to destroy. You procreate to abuse. You prosecute the innocent and let the guilty walk free. You slit your wrists when your families give you all the things that the starving and the homeless envy you for. You become so eager to sell your bodies like objects that you become vulnerable enough to be kidnapped and killed. Your ways are disgusting. However, there are a select few that are more honorable than others, some of which have given me their allegiance, and they are sworn to the entity that is the White Light. Our resources are bountiful and we are only growing in numbers. We are more prevalent than you think, and we are behind every tree. Those who are willing to join our ranks and serve our deity will be immune to my new synthetic solution. Our Lord will be pleased when this wretched world cleansed, and so will I,” the voice said. “Where are the escorts?!” I shouted. The voice let out a menacing laugh. “I kidnapped these filthy s***s because I required subjects for human trials, and fortunately, all were successful. I must inform you that all cell doors open electronically, and it would be my esteemed pleasure to open these doors so may witness the inception of my legacy. Enjoy.”

All of the doors in the hall slowly began to open. I instinctively aimed my M4A1 down the hall. I sensed that Oshima and Vincent had done the same with their Berettas. All of a sudden, I heard a collective sound of multiple"things"letting out gurgling, monstrous growls. “Goddamnit, Carmen. What the f**k have you done?” Vincent said. A figure departed from one the open cells on the right. The sight of it made me question as to whether I was in reality or in a nightmare. It was a humanoid figure that somehow resembled a common escort, but that is not what it was. It had pure, vivid white eyes, with no pupils. It had long, muscular arms with protruding veins and a mint green color its skin. Its hands had fingers like jagged daggers. The thing had horns. There were three of them extending from the head, all of which went upward and diagonal. The one on the left pointed left and the one on the right pointed right. It was enshrouded in open wounds, particularly on the arms. It had dirty blonde hair, it wore red booty shorts, and it had breasts exposed. Auburn spikes were growing from its shoulders that appeared as though they were made of wood. It had no lips, like someone had ripped them off with pliers, and two sets of yellow piranha teeth were visible with dark red gums. Its face and its body were crusted with black blood. I could actually hear it breathing. Two figures walked out of cells behind it on the right, and they both similar traits, except one was fully naked and the other had ripped up tight black jeans. They stood there in the hallway just gazing at us, like a group of wolves gazing at a group of prey in a forest right before making their kills. “Lyla… Alyssiana… Constance…” Oshima muttered, sounding mortified. They weren’t walking toward us, but they were moving, chiefly due to the heavy inhaling and exhaling they were conducting. The figure closest to us titled its head to the left, it raised its harrowing right arm with its gargantuan talons pointed us, and then it began to approach.

“FIRE!” I shouted. I fired my M4A1 at the unspeakable creature and Oshima and Vincent did the same. Bullets flew into the ghastly being closest to me. Bullets hit its chest, its arms, and its face. It wasn’t going down. “FALL BACK!” I shouted. Oshima and Vincent ran up the stairs and I followed. We found ourselves in the activity room and we stopped to look at each other. “What the f**k did your brother do, Vincent?!” Oshima asked, sounding emotionally wrecked. “How the f**k am I supposed to know? I’m not his goddamn babysitter!” he shouted. He looked at the stairs and then back at Oshima. “I guess our search for those girls just came to an end. Don’t you think?” Vincent said. “Shut the f**k up!” Oshima screamed. Oshima was obviously devastated at the sight of her friends is this unreal condition. “Oshima, there will be a time to grieve, but it is not now!” I said, loudly. I could hear the growling down the stairs. What do we do? “We can’t go outside. They’ll follow us, we’ll lure them into the public, and civilians we’ll be in danger. They need to be terminated,” I said. I aimed at the stairwell. The voice spoke again. “Oh, what’s the matter? Don’t you appreciate the extent of my work thus far? Aren’t they magnificent? Only a few days of being infected and they’ve already developed a tremendous physical defense against gunfire. Highly efficient. I wouldn’t get too close, if I were you. The virus is blood borne, after all.” So, mutant hookers that are virtually immune to gunfire that can infect someone with a single infliction into the flesh are coming up the stairs to attack us. I wasn’t trained in this field at the academy.

“They’ve been locked up in their cells for awhile, so they’re quite famished. They’re not living entities but they do have an inherent need to consume, rendering them quite the formidable bioweapons. It will be such a spectacle for me to enjoy when humanity is struggling to defend itself from these beautiful works of nature,” the voice said. “You two don’t have to be here. You can go,” I said. “There’s no f*****g way I’m going anywhere until White Dragon is dead,” Oshima said. The creature in the red booty shorts came up the stairs and laid eyes on us. Bullets weren’t working. I needed to try something else. I had an AP mine in my coat. Before I went to reach for it, the voice came on again. “Why don’t I make things more interesting?” the voice said. Shortly after, the entire room went dark. “Get out of here, now!” These things seemed pretty slow at first, but right when I grabbed the mine in my coat, an unseen monstrosity was already in front of me grabbing me by the coat and lifting me up. I could feel warm breathing on my neck that was scented with the smell of a rotten corpse. I took the AP mine that was already in my hand, slapped it on the creature’s face, and kicked away. I landed on my feet right on the stone tablet. I wanted to blow this thing to ruins but I needed to be out of here. I couldn’t see a goddamn thing, but I remembered where the stairs were, so I ran through this darkness and found myself on the staircase, and then I found myself up in the lobby, which was just as enveloped in darkness as the room below. Shortly after I emerged from the activity room, I grabbed the detonator and pressed the button that would activate the mine. Nothing happened. I pressed it repeatedly and I heard no explosion. “Oh, that’s great,” I said to myself. I threw the detonator on the ground out of rage. “Hey, we’re here!” Vincent was right next to me on my left. “Now what do we do?” Oshima asked. Then, a flare had ignited from the staircase that led to the upper levels, and someone was holding it up while pointing a gun right at me.

The figure was dressed in some kind of jumpsuit that appeared red under the light of the flare, and his head was in a gas mask. Instinctively, I pulled out a Colt and at fired at him numerous times at the chest and the face. It laughed. “You think I’m worried about your gunfire? Go ahead and waste your ammo. You are entitled to do so. I just want to ensure you stay here for a while longer. I wouldn’t want you to leave when the party has just begun.” “White Dragon,” I said. “Wasn’t that difficult to figure out, was it? It was a pleasant surprise to see you accompany my brother into this facility. It seemed as though he didn’t appreciate my creations as much as I did. What do you, Mr. Punisher, think of my work? I personally am I overflowing with pride. I just love the grand sensation of fulfillment you receive when you behold your own creation, whether you create a painting, a symphony, or a form of life. He who creates is divine,” White Dragon said. “You’re a sick f**k and the world doesn’t need you,” I spat. He laughed manically, and then he began descending down the stairs. He stood before us on the floor of the lobby with the flare still raised. “What do you know about what the world needs, Mr. Punisher?” I looked to the left and saw a gruesome face in the light smile its bloody piranha teeth right me. “Run!” Vincent screamed. He immediately ran back towards the cafeteria to get as far from it as possible and I ran after him, following his advice, and Oshima did as well, but when we got close to the opening, a bullet went right past my right ear and hit the wall. “If you leave the lobby, you’ll get a bullet in the back of your head. Turn around so I can speak to your face. Same to you Vincent and Miss Chink,” White Dragon said. “You know that can’t harm me, right? My jumpsuit is made out of a unique material that I invented that repels anyone who holds the virus, so when the world gets overrun with their pretty faces, I will have nothing to fear,” White Dragon said. He walked as close as he could to the figure that came into view a few seconds ago. “See? I am completely unharmed,” White Dragon said. In the flare, I said two other faces come into view, one of which was the face on which I attached the mine. It still had it. All three figures and White Dragon were close together. “If he who creates is divine, what does that make he who undoes that which is created?” I pulled out my Colt, aimed it at the mine, fired, and the entire room lit up with a vehement explosion that knocked me into the cafeteria.

Yellow and orange flame permeated the building. A powerful pulse of noise slammed into my eardrums. I landed on the floor of the cafeteria, hitting my back and getting the wind knocked out of me. I didn’t see what happened to Oshima and Vincent. I rose to my feet and surveyed the scene. I saw nothing but darkness, but I could feel burning smoke on my eyes and in my lungs. My ears were ringing from the blast. I wondered if Oshima and Vincent were okay. I ran though the lobby as quick as possible, hoping to reach the door in one piece, and I found myself at the door. I opened it up, letting in the moonlight. I turned around and I saw the three demonic forms lying on the ground, motionless and charred. White Dragon was on his back on the stairwell. I marched over to him, ripped off his gas mask, and revealed his face. I could see his resemblance to Vincent. He almost had the same face, and his hair was brown instead of black. He was alive. He coughed hard, and blood spew from his mouth. I took out a Colt and aimed it at his face. “Are there are other strands of the virus? If so, you’re gonna take me to them now,” Without looking at me, he laughed again. “You will not see my virus again until it’s too late. Even if I die, the virus lives on. My legacy lives on. The White Light lives on.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head, he exhaled, and his head titled to his right. I put my fingers to his neck. There was no pulse. “Son of a b***h!”

I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around and Oshima and Vincent came up to, heavily covered in rubble. “You two okay?” I asked. “We got knocked into the wall. I’m gonna need a chiropractor,” Oshima said. “Where’s Carmen?” Vincent asked. “On the stairs. The explosion killed him,” I informed. Vincent nodded. “Was he always like this?” Oshima asked. “I never really knew him. We were separated when we were infants. Parent’s got divorced. Mom took me. Dad took him. He found me about a week ago. I still don’t know how. First thing he did was invite me to join the cult. Where are those hookers?” Vincent asked. “On the floor next to you.” Vincent looked down. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “We need to get outta here. The explosion might attract cops. In that case, they can deal with the bodies of the bioweapons,” I said. I walked out of the lobby and Oshima and Vincent followed. The streets were still vacant, and I didn’t want to stick around to see how long they’d stay that way. I went around back to the car, opened the door, got in, and my companions went in after me. We all sat silently for a second. “We need to stop at Floyd’s and tell him the girls are dead,” Oshima said. I looked in the mirror and saw her sulking her head. Vincent turned over to her. “I’m sorry about your homies,” Vincent said. “Oshima turned to Vincent. “I’m sorry about your bro,” Oshima said. Vincent nodded at her. I turned on the car and started driving to Floyd’s place. I heard sirens nearby.

We made it to Floyd’s penthouse safely. We saw no police vehicles but they could be heard in the direction of the asylum. I recollected on all the events of tonight. I don’t know how White Dragon succeeded in creating something of that nature, and I could only anticipate seeing it manifest again. The virus could be still out there somewhere. The roots of the White Light may very well be deeper than I could discern, but I will just have to see. Floyd saw the car when I pulled up, and he walked outside. I parked with the driver’s window closest to the door. I rolled down the window as he approached the car. “Yours girls are dead,” I said. “You couldn’t save them?” Floyd asked. “They were dead before we got there,” Oshima said. Floyd shook his head and stared at the sky. Then, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a stack of cash, and handed it over. I took it and placed it in my lap. “Thank you for trying. Oshima, are you coming?” Floyd said. Oshima opened her door, walked out, closed the door, and went around to join Floyd. She stood next to him and looked at me. I opened my door, grabbed the M4A1, stepped out, and went to the trunk. I popped it open, put in the M4A1, and fetched her cigarettes and her lighter. “Here you go,” I said, handing them to her. Oshima smirked, took them, and placed them in her bra. I looked at her, admiring her beauty, even though her face had a few smudges of dirt. I held out my hand, expecting her to give me a handshake. “Thank you for your assistance,” I said. She walked up to me and wrapped her arms me, and even though she had went to Hell and back tonight, she smelled like perfume. She placed her lips onto my cheek, and my entire face was warmth. She removed her arms and stepped back. “You realize life aint that bad after you experience a near-death scenario? If you ever need me for anything, and I mean anything, come find me,” Oshima said. She turned around and went into the penthouse, and Floyd followed her. Now it was just me and Vincent.

I heard Vincent open his door. I turned around and saw him walk out. He closed the door and walked up to me. “My brother showed me who he truly was, and now that he’s dead, I bear no remorse. He certainly wasn’t the first person in my family who died in my lifetime. You were right when you said the world didn’t need him. The world’s not perfect. You and I both know that, but there are ways to remedy those imperfections and there are some that are more warranted than others. I approve of your ways. You’re a good man, Punisher. If you find any more cynical psychos like that again, I hope they meet you,” Vincent said. I nodded. “I’m gonna take a walk. Fresh air and moonlight are great after you spend time in a dark room with virulent mutants,” he said. I held out my hand, and he shook it. “White Tiger,” I said. Vincent smiled. His tuxedo with black stripes was really dirty but it was nothing the dry cleaners couldn’t fix. He let go of my hand and started walking. I started wondering what the cops were going to think when if they took a good look at the girls in the hospital. Before I walked in the car, a man in a black suit walked out of an alleyway by the penthouse. He walked onto the sidewalk, stopped, and faced me. “I am here on behalf of the man named Jigsaw, who you know otherwise as John Saint,” the man said. I know that name. John Saint is the young man I thought I killed back at Saints and Sinners during my confrontation with Howard Saint. Five other guys in suits walked out of the alleyway, each holding a SIG-Sauer P226. “We’ll be paid handsomely for your death,” the man said. I went to reach for my Colts, but before I could pull them out, I saw that the group of men was getting shot by someone behind them. When they turned around to inspect the scene, they were taking fire from the direction of the penthouse as well, and I saw Oshima firing at the group of men with the M9 that she had not given back to me. I pulled out my Colts and started firing too, and eventually, all of the men were lying on the ground. Oshima ran up to me and I saw that Vincent was running to me in the distance. “Maybe I could hang out with you for a while longer until the police get done investigating this area?” Oshima asked. Floyd came outside with a Smith and Wesson Model 66. “What the f**k just happened?” he asked. “Get in the car,” I said to both of them. I got into the driver’s seat, Oshima got in the passenger seat, and then Vincent ran up to my window. “You okay, man?” he said. “Get in the car, Vinnie. Don’t be a f*****g loner,” Oshima said. He got into the passenger seat and sat next to Floyd. I started the car. “I bet you’re happy we kept those M9's. Who were those guys?” Vincent asked. “They mentioned someone’s name, someone who I believed to be dead. He put a price on my head,” I said. “Well then our work isn’t done yet, right Tentacle Porn?” Vincent asked. “Hah! I get it!” Floyd said. I put my palm to my face, shook my head, removed my palm, looked ahead, and began driving away.

© 2014 Bobby Madden

Author's Note

Feel free to inform me of any errors detected and provide constructive criticism.

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JoJo Hallows

Being a fan of the Punisher comic, I had to seperate that format to truly appreciate your perception of the icon. It took a while to develope that gritt we often see in the Punisher comics. You're a very detailed and eloquent writer. Your writing always has a sense of whimsy that is beautiful because of these traits. I think it almost hindered you here. I really liked the second, fith and sixth paragraphs because they were idealy that city-slicker grit that Gerry Conway intends for the character. After that, I think you took off. You really got into the mindset of who the Punisher is. I think that you represent Frank Castle really well because that's the side of the character I think is relatable to you, through my eyes. You're the emotionally drive, devote hero.

I'd like to see a continuation of this and from Frank's stand point. I think you'll excell from that perspective of the character. You wrote very well and you have a obvious vision for this character. You love this comic and I know you'll craddle it with your creativity. I'm already for a second installment.