CHAPTER 1: Plans and a War Within
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
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.
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."
"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."