Frank Castle: One Hell Of A Night

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What started out as a simple night annoying Frank in his apartment turned into a full on war. The night was quiet and normal, Frank laughing and pretending to not enjoy your company when suddenly he got serious. He set his beer down and got up from the couch.

"Go to the bathroom and sit in the tub, don't come out until I tell you." His voice had gone from light hearted to gruff and stern. You knew what Frank was, who he was, so you knew to listen to him. You got up, and quickly walked across the apartment, doing what you were told. You shut and locked the bathroom door, turning off the light and sitting in the tub. You closed your eyes and listened,

Voices

Frank cocking his gun

Pounding on the door

Silence

Time slowed the silence standing as a warning to those on the sidelines. War was about to be waged, two enemies paused in a single moment before the air erupted in sound. The door kicked in, gunfire rang out, men cried out in the name of death. You listened, waiting for it to die down. You had complete faith Frank would come out on top he always does, but not this time. You heard his body being slammed to floor and him yelling out in pain. You no longer listened, you acted. Within a single breath you opened the bathroom door and ran to his bedroom. Pulling open his gun closet you grabbed his pistol. You let your adrenaline take over, running through your body and making the decision for you. You stepped out of the bedroom and planted your feet, taking aim. More than twenty men had stormed the apartment and were now surrounding Frank, your eyes locked on them. Pulling the trigger, you take down three of the men with one bullet each. Three more go down before Frank can stand up; he takes on one half while you gun down the others. Blood splatters over you, covering your face and soaking your shirt. Your lungs begin to ache when you plant a bullet in the last mans head. Silence regains control over the air, you force yourself to breathe. Frank looks at you, shock and amazement in his eyes.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" He asks, breaking through the air and pulling your attention to him.

"My dad." You reply shortly, you stare at the bodies on the floor.

"How are we-?" You ask breathlessly, concern growing in your chest.

"Don't worry about that," He says quickly, walking over to you and takes hold of your shoulders. He looks down at you with care in his eyes.

"I'll take care of it, you just go sit down." He gently pushes you to the couch, nudging you to sit down. You comply, still staring at the scene in front of you. Frank rushes to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee and wetting a rag. He walks back to you and kneels in front of you. He hands you the cup and raises the rag to your face.

"...Hey" He whispers, gently running the rag across your face and wiping off the blood. You begin to regain your attention to him, your breathing stabilizing.

"That was pretty fucking awesome." Frank chuckles, trying to lift your spirits. A small smile spreads onto your face and you laugh, taking a sip of your coffee.

"Jesus Frank..."You grumble, he stands up and sits beside you, pulling you to him.

"I know, I know. Its gonna be okay, sweetheart." He mumbles, kissing your forehead. Tonight was once hell of a night.

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