VIRTUE, frank castle

INTRODUCTION

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Mallory was born...different. Born into the world quiet and unassuming with strange, unnatural hands that would soon simply give and give and give until there was nothing left in her wake to be overwhelmed completely by something wrong, black veins of twisted intentions sliding up the skin of her arms until it consumed her so frightfully that not even the devil himself could look so demonic and vile. A creature of destruction, of ruined and wasted intentions, waiting for a moment to finally explode and take the world by storm.

And all it had taken was one act of blind kindness, of pity, of mercy when she'd been in the crusps of purbery, wondering if her body was meant to feel that warm, if it was meant to feel that cold for everything to finally be revealed, for her to realise just what she was capable of as her own self rotted while another grew stronger, her mouth filling with crimson mortality and sudden screams that haunted the night like a melancholy calling as she was ripped away from her virtues before she could become a martyr and instead becoming a sinner.

But it was from then on, she had to learn from that her touch was nothing short of poisonous, of deadly, of dangerous and that made her it too. She had to be careful, had to be taught that she was unnatural and that the things she did were wrong. That she was something to be feared, something that couldn't be understood or tamed or controlled and everyone close to her knew it as they slipped their knives inside her prison of flesh and let her bleed for it, she was like a black hole of darkness that just sucked the life out of everyone around her inculding herself and swallowed it whole without so much as a backward glance.

She could give, she could take but she couldn't do the one thing she craved like a drowning man to land and that was touch, she couldn't be held or have fingers brush through her hair to comfort her, she wasn't worth the risk of idle affection from a mother who already believed her to be her punishment for some damned sin that Mallory would never understand. And from that constant inbetween, she had no balance with no chance of salvation or damnation, she left everyone around her either empty or overflowing, a drought and a flood all in the same breath.

It was agony, it was life, and it was her life until it wasn't...until she learned to run, to hide away, embrace isolation because there was no other option where she could keep the shambles of what was once her sanity, refusing to expose herself to humanity, to strip herself naked of her defences as she closed herself off until she couldn't be touched ever again, ignoring the longing inside of her, the constant battle of wanting to be alone and to loved and held so tightly like she'd break into a thousand pieces if let go, a pathetic indecisiveness that followed her everywhere she went.

But then all it took was conscience, all it took was fate, destiny, or more accurately a simple mistake for her virtues to be ripped apart by the seams from rough hands stained with blood and sin and grief. He was another knife, she knew it, a different sort yes but still something sharp and painful, but she didn't care, she couldn't care because in the end she wanted the blade and everything that came with it...some things were spilling blood for, for taking and giving until you were split open...and she was sure that Frank Castle was one of them.

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"I'LL LOVE YOU TO THE POINT OF RUIN. I'LL LOVE YOU UNTIL MY LUNGS FILL WITH ASH."

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Dedications

-firestar -hanlonss chloebelova maema2 persephonegirls -dxhlia yksydknee and for all of my readers, thank you so much for your support, it means the absolute world to me and I adore you all so very much. <3