Continued from Punishment Corps. #1

“So these are going to do the trick right? Kingpin wants to see his investment in a positive light.” Rilo Keller has done this a thousand times before. He knows that he physically isn’t imposing but his title is. Rilo has a brown suit on and looks to be a bit out of his league. However, the cigar in his right hand commands respect. He may not be the largest man in the room, but everyone is weary of him.

The two men that he is talking to are some fresh college chemists. They are sitting on barrels in the center of the room. A single light shines down onto their confused and scared demeanor. A backpack sits in front of each of them.

The room that they are in is cold and murky. The air is stale and the light is almost non-existent. Aside from the three previously mentioned men. Thugs of every shape and size line the walls. Preston is one of these men. He is visibly nervous but its camouflaged by the darkness. He feels around in his jacket pockets and the cold steel of his revolver keeps him calm, for now.

“So how about you two take one yourselves?” Rilo asks while pointing to the pair.

The two chemists look at each other nervously.

“Sir,” one of them speaks up. “If we take one of these then were gonna die!”

Rilo reaches down in front of them and picks up the two backpacks. He throws one to each of the chemists.

“I said take one!” Rilo says deadpan.

The two men swallow nervously and unzip the backpacks.

“Connor,” says one of the chemists to the other. “This is going to be dangerous.”

Connor nods and Rilo urges the duo again. They both take a pill. Everyone in the room lets out a nervous sigh.

Preston has his eyes closed. “You can do this” he mutters under his breath.

Frank Castle, adorned with a glowing yellow ring that surrounds his body with a yellow light, stands in front of Basilus who is still hovering in front of him. Frank can feel his eyes getting heavy, and then "POW" a burst of energy. Yellow light burst out of every pore on his body. His feet are lifted off of the ground and he finds himself hovering in place, just like Basilus. Frank can see everything in the surrounding area. He could look in one direction and then just keep tuning in closer and closer. It was all so clear. He could hear every voice. It was booming at first but then became finely tuned in. He was hearing everything and he could switch it off just by thinking about it. Stunned by these new powers Frank stared at the yellow ring on his left hand.

"What is this?" was all that Frank could let out.

Basilus finally stopped glowing and so did Frank. He gently came back to the roofs surface and regained his footing. Instantly he grabbed Basilus by the collar of his robes.

"You better start talkin' and fast!" Grumbled Castle.

Basilus eyes were glazing over. His breath was becoming labored.

"There're are others" Basilus let out with a harsh cough. "other Guardians."

“Guardians? Is that you? Are you a Guardian?” asked Frank.

“Take the lantern. It is your ba.. batt.. battery.” Basilus squeaked out.

“What are you talking about?” Asked Frank again urgently.

The alien’s blue head was becoming heavy, it kept nodding back. Frank had to hold it up. The aliens body was becoming weaker by the moment. His eyes are fading to a normal white and blue combination.

"Beware of Para.. P... Par.. P.. P... ." panted the alien. However, that was it. The small blue body went limp inside his robe. His eyes closed.

Frank laid the alien's body back down on the rooftop. He stood there for a moment before a voice called out from behind him.

"Hey! What's going on up here?!" the voice called.

Frank could feel the fear in his voice. The yellow ring sparkled with excitement.

Castle keeps his back turned to the voice.

"If you're tearin' up my roof, chief. Imma tear up your ass!" calls the voice again.

Frank turns around and instantly produces two glowing yellow AK-47's in each hand.

There is a man standing on the fire escape with a .45 caliber gun. He is a rotund man. Upon seeing the glowing machine guns he instantly screams out in fear and shoots his gun. The man's bullet hits Frank in the chest but nothing happens. Frank fires his guns instinctively. He grits his teeth and enjoys his kill. He hears the rounds going off.

It feels so natural, thinks Frank.

He sees the bullets flying. The man's lifeless corpse falls onto the fire escape. Then it hits him. Surprised Frank stops firing and the guns are gone. Vanished. He looks at his hands for a moment in wonder. Then he feels his chest. Nothing. The man shot at him. Didn’t he? He runs over to the man on the fire escape. The man’s large body had been torn to shreds. “Why did you shoot?” asks Frank rhetorically.

He hears bullets in the distance. Frank turns his head and looks in the direction of the gunfire. He can make out a blue sedan squealing its tires about 15 blocks away. He gets that feeling again and shoots like a bullet across town. The city rushing by block after block under his body. He catches up with the sedan in no time. He flies behind it for a bit and watches it turn into an alleyway.

“Alright, Alright, Alright. Preston has some bread to bring home tonight!” Says Preston as he brings his 1987 blue sedan to a stop in a clearly uninhabited and dark alleyway. He reaches behind him and pulls two backpacks up into the front seat with him. He sets them in the passenger seat. One of the backpacks has a revolver sticking out of it. Sirens can be heard in the distance. He fiddles with the rear-view mirror and notices a flash of yellow light behind the car. It catches him by surprise and he darts his neck around looking behind him down the alley. Nothing. “Shoot man, ‘bout to give yourself a heart attack!” The sirens are closer. Preston grabs the closest backpack. The grey material of the backpack is covered with blood. With a quick and cheerful sigh, Preston unzips the backpack revealing hundreds of little grey capsules. “Hit the motherload tonight!” he says as he zips the backpack up again. He watches in the rearview as two cop cars zoom past the alleyway with their sirens blaring. “Let’s hit some tunes man.” he says to himself as he starts the car again and puts it auxillary. Then he turns on the car radio. It buzzes to life in the final few minutes of a segment on a talk radio station. Preston puts the backpacks in the backseat of the car and covers them with a towel. He puts his seat back and lets out a large breath as he closes his eyes.

The car shakes from side to side for a second and this jerks Preston awake. The roof of the car moans with pressure. With a quick glance at the clock he sees that its almost six. He had only been asleep for twenty minutes at most. “Who the fu..” He mutters as he tries to peer out of his windows. The sky was still dark. Except for a light above the car. He tried to see what the light was but couldn’t make it out. “Who the hell is up there?” questioned Preston to himself. He started rolling down his window then stopped when a voice called out from above the car. “Preston Watkins?” quickly he began trying to roll the window up while fidgeting with the keys in the starter. “Who the hell?!” screamed Preston as he revs the engine back on. The car shakes again as whatever is on top of the car lifts off. The car begins backing up to the street, he backs into a trashcan, and then spins the wheel, backing into some stacked newspapers. Suddenly, a giant hammer made of yellow light smashes the front of his sedan. Completely crushing and flattening the engine. The car, of course, comes to a violent halt. Preston is violently tossed around and hits his face on his steering wheel. The driver side door gets ripped off of its hinges and Preston is grabbed by a giant fist made of yellow light and pressed firmly against the brick wall of the alley. He looked down and noticed his feet dangling about fifty feet above the asphalt. He can clearly see now the horrible wreck of his mothers car. “Oh... Oh crap man!” He says nearly in shock. Then his attention turns to the Punisher hovering right in front of him. Yellow light covering his body and streaming out of a ring on his finger. Instantly fear creeps up his body. The Punishers eyes were black with yellow retinas. They were burning with a strange illumination.

“Preston Watkins, Age 31, Born Jamaica, Queens. Pickpocketing, Shoplifting, Car Theft, Burglary, Assault, Random acts of Vandalism, Rape, and Murder. Now we can add organized crime to that list!” The Punisher sounded off the list of broken laws in a quick and professional fashion. “Now, how do you plead?”

“W...Wh... Wha...” Preston tried to figure the words in his head. How did he know these things. He had only been arrested twice.

“HOW DO YOU PLEAD!?” Boom’s Castle.

“Guilty!” says Preston finally.

“Good!” Exclaims Frank as he aims a yellow gun at Preston’s head. The gun shines brightly Preston shakes. “Wh.. What is going on man? Put me down man!” pleaded Preston.

“This city is overrun with scum like you.” Starts Frank, “The heroes are too busy fighting off world all of the time to take care of your kind. That’s where we come in. With this ring we can really clean up the streets and erase screw-up’s like you. With enough men and time, we can rid the world of your kind.”

“This was it man! This was my last hit! Please!” Preston began sobbing.

“While you slept this ring told me all about you Preston. It told me about the children that you murdered in Louisiana.”

Preston stopped breathing and sobbing for a moment and his eyes started getting really wide. “You remember that right Preston?”

Preston just stared straight ahead.

“Of course you do son, you raped them. Remember?”

With that The Punisher squeezes off a round and drops Preston’s lifeless body to the alley below..

To be continued.

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Okay so if anyone want’s to edit for me or give me some pointers that would be great. I love hearing from you all. Also if anyone want’s to draw up a Punishment Corp. Punisher that would be sweet.

More to follow.