"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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"my limits, i've gone past 'em, they call me the machine. pushing past the instinct, pushing past the ache, whatever it takes." - The Machine, MILCK
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Fucking fuck!
I head swiftly down the street and dash into the next alley, running to the nearest dumpster for cover.
Moments later, a man turns down the alley.
His footsteps close in and I jump out, punching him in the face. I disarm him and throw his body against the brick wall, pinning him by his neck with my forearm.
My snarl in his face is cut short when I recognise him.
Evan. One of the doctors from Stryker's lab.
In my hesitation, he pulls a tranq gun and shoots it into my stomach.
I knock it from his hand and bare my teeth, raising my fist to his eye level.
"I wouldn't if I were you-" he splutters, before my claws can breach. "You draw them claws now, you won't heal and you'll bleed out through your hands."
I glare at him, breathing heavily through my nose.
"I'm surprised you didn't the other night." he adds.
I shift my arm from his neck to elbow him in the face, sending him to the ground in a heap.
"I don't need claws." I state through gritted teeth.
I pull the tranquilliser dart from my stomach and pick up the gun. Crouching down to Evan, I grab a fistful of his shirt and hold the tranq gun to his eye. "You shoulda stayed in the lab, doc." I spit.
Out of all the doctors that worked on me, Evan had been the nicest. He had been involved with my progress and recovery, rather than any torturing, experimenting or conditioning. He'd even slip me extra food and water whenever he could. I could always see the pity in his eyes.
Now, all I can see is fear.
"Don't- please." he pants. "I was good to you."
"The fuck you call this then?" I counter.
"He's making me. Please." Evan pleads, looking up at me with desperate eyes. "I have a family, too." he adds in a whisper.
I feel the hate in my eyes morph into sadness. Because I can sense he's telling the truth..
"So, Stryker's got you on the streets now, doing his bidding?" I ask and Evan nods. I grip his shirt tighter and pull him closer. "Did you murder my family?"
"No." he breathes, shaking his head profusely. "You know I'm no sharpshooter. It was one Stryker's goons."
"Was this goon in the bar the other night?" I ask lowly.
