"to burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves."
- Federico García Lorca
Staying out of trouble is not Frank Castle's strong suit. But is Jenavieve Howlett more trouble than The Punisher can handle...
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"this is where it all begins, my only rival is within." - Rival, Ruelle
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I never had an exact idea of what I wanted in life, or where I saw myself going. What I did know, was that I wanted to follow in the footsteps of my parents, in some way.
My father was a decorated soldier and my mother, a registered nurse.
So training to be a Combat Medic Specialist in the Army, seemed like a perfect direction to take.
My mother wasn't entirely fond of the idea, seeing as my father was killed in action. But her and my brother, James, supported me all the way.
My brother, the surgeon. I was so proud of him. And I was determined to finally make him proud in return.
So after my 28th birthday, I enlisted. I did my weeks and weeks of intensive training, learning all the skills necessary to be effective on the battlefield.
My first tour in Afghanistan had been successful and I was looking forward to going back home.
However, before my unit made it home, we were tapped. A man flew in, leading a small team of his own, searching for the right recruits to join his 'classified' fight. He'd heard good things about our unit and wanted us to join him. So we did.
We didn't ask too many questions, all too ready and willing to make the world a better place for our loved ones back home. So my friends and I joined William Stryker and his classified project.
Classified, however, was a very misleading word.
We'd assumed the reason no other higher ups knew of Stryker's project, was because it was, as he said, classified. We didn't know it was because it was shady and off the books.
Starting as a military officer, Stryker had worked his way up the ranks, and then found his way through every little loophole he could, to bring his personal project to life.
My unit and I were moved to a secret site and injected with what we were told were vitamins, antibiotics and steroids that would protect us in the war zones.
But it was more than that.
The serum they gave us altered our DNA.
Our hearing and our sense of smell were heightened. As too was our ability to heal. An injury that would normally take a week to heal, took a day.
We became science experiments instead of soldiers. They monitored our progress and put us into combat training.
But members of my unit began to dwindle away. One by one.
A lot of them got sick, their bodies rejecting the serums. Most of the ones who were sick, died. And the ones that didn't die, became bed ridden, and Stryker had them euthanised.
