Survivor | Frank Castle

.7.

The sun is just beginning its wake above the horizon, casting long shadows across the small, dimly lit apartment. Mary sits on the floor, her back against the wall, her legs stretched out in front of her. Max, the large pitbull, lounges beside her, his head resting on her lap. Bubs, the slightly smaller pitbull, hovers nearby, eyeing Max with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Mary runs her fingers through Max's fur, her touch gentle and soothing. She watches as Max's eyes slowly droop, and he lets out a contented sigh. It seems that he's taken to his new surroundings surprisingly well.

Bubs, on the other hand, seems torn between wanting to approach Max and lingering on the outskirts of the room, as if unsure of how to proceed. He sniffs the air cautiously, his ears perked up, and his tail wags tentatively.

Mary can't help but smile at the two dogs, each with their unique personalities. Max, despite his imposing size and reputation, is a gentle giant, while Bubs, who looks like a tough guy, is actually a big softie at heart.

As Mary continues to stroke Max's fur, she casts a sideways glance at Bubs.

"Come on, Bubs," She says in a soft, encouraging tone, "He's not going to bite. Go say hi."

Bubs inches closer, his body low to the ground. He sniffs Max's outstretched paw tentatively, then offers his own paw in a gesture of canine friendship. Max, seemingly unfazed by Bubs' initial hesitance, accepts the pawshake with a wag of his tail. Mary chuckles softly, her heart warmed by the sight of the two dogs getting along. It's a small comfort in the midst of the chaos and uncertainty that has become her life since meeting Frank Castle.

As she watches Max and Bubs interact, Mary can't help but wish for a simpler, quieter life. A life where she could wake up in the morning, make a cup of coffee, and go about her day without constantly looking over her shoulder. A life where she didn't have to worry about the consequences of her actions, or the people she might inadvertently put in danger.

But she knows that such a life is a distant dream, one that might never be realized. She's made choices that have led her down this path, choices driven by a sense of duty and a desire to do what's right.

With a heavy sigh, Mary leans down to give Max a gentle pat on the head.

"You guys are lucky," She murmurs, "You don't have to worry about all this mess."

Max responds with a contented groan, his tail thumping lazily against the floor. Bubs gazes up at her with soulful brown eyes, as if understanding every word. He leans in, pressing his head against her leg in a silent display of affection.

The Ukrainian woman soon leaves the dogs in the apartment with a heavy heart. They've been fed, taken for a walk and have plenty of water, but for today, they need to stay inside.

" All rise. Court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Cynthia Batzer presiding. Indictment number 1986-4447, The People v. Frank Castle."

Mary sits in the courtroom in dark clothes, wearing a platinum blonde wig and a pair of nonprescription reading glasses that conceal her identity just the slightest. Her eyes land on the bright orange jumpsuit, worn by none other than Frank. His back is turned to her, his hair is short and tight, and his entire body is bound by chains.

" Ladies and gentlemen of the jury... Frank Castle brutally tortured and murdered 30 people. Thirty that we know of. He took the law into his own hands. Acted as judge, jury, and...
most violent executioner. And you will hear that the defendant's victims were criminals... but the victims are not on trial here today, and justice does not belong in the hands of a man like Frank Castle. This isn't the Wild West. Justice is served here... in a court of law. And it is up to each of you to take back the city from lawless vigilantes... like Frank Castle. This man is no hero. He's a serial killer. And he is guilty. Thank you."