The sound of tape ripped in the air as Frank muffled the desperate screams of the man.
“Now normally I don’t do this,” Frank said. “Hell, I don’t want to do this but you… doctor.” Frank said the word with distaste, he opened up a toolbox, taking out whatever tools he could find. Pliers, screwdrivers, before finally settling on a wrench. “What you did…”
The doctor cries were muffled by the tape. His eyes pleaded, begged Frank not to continue but Frank didn’t care. He hit the man across the head with just enough force to leave him conscious.
“Children,” Frank said. “They were children, doctor. Vulnerable children and you put your filthy little hands all over them, didn’t you?”
The doctor shook his head, desperately. The side of his head started to swell up, blood started to pour down the swollen mound. It looked almost like a tumour.
“Now I’m not one to talk,” Frank said. “I’ve done my fair share of shady things down at the Gotham City police force but…” Frank pulled a chair, twisted it around and sat facing the good doctor. “The way I see it, the people I killed. They deserved it. Those kids, they didn’t deserve to have your hands all over them. Did they?”
The doctor looked like he was on the cusp of blacking out but Frank couldn’t have that. He punched the doctor across the face, snapping him back to consciousness.
“Uh uh, doctor,” Frank said. “Not now. Can’t lose you now. Wouldn’t be any fun in that, would they?”
“Now I got your blood all over my hands,” Frank said. “Goddammit.”
Frank walked over to the kitchen sink. He ran the tap, letting the dirty red water swirl around the sink before it was gobbled up by the drain.
“Say, you’re a therapist, right?” Frank asked. “My old lady, she always said I needed one. Hell, I think everybody in Gotham needed one.” Frank chuckled. “That city was like a parasite. Drained the life outta you. Wasn’t always like that, mind you but once the Waynes died well it all went downhill from there.” Frank wiped the blood out of his knuckles with a cloth. “I joined the army to get out of there but somehow the city dragged me back in. Met Maria after coming back and then my dumbass got her pregnant. Dad wasn’t around for most of my life and I didn’t the same thing to happen to my kid so I stayed.”
The doctor lost consciousness again. Frank sighed. “You ain’t a good listener, Doc. You know that?”
Frank filled a bucket of water and splashed it across the doctor’s face.
“I thought your job was to listen to people, Doc,” Frank said. He pulled out a kitchen drawer and jammed into the Doctor’s thigh. The doctor let out a muffled cry of pain, he looked at the knife and then at Frank’s icy blue eyes, pleading him to remove it but Frank remained unyielding. The Doctor squirmed in his seat, trying his hardest to remove the knife stuck in his thigh. He tried moving his hands but they were bound, tried moving his legs but they were stuck to the chair so tightly it was like they were glued onto it. Frank yanked him up by what remained of his hairline. “You really aren’t doing a good job, Doc.”
“Anyway,” Frank said. “Lisa was born and soon after, little Frank Junior.” Frank chuckled. “The little bastard. Was a real jackass.” Frank turned his chair around. “Like his old man. It was painful going away from them to fight down over at Afghanistan. Not knowing whether I’d see them again, y’know? Not knowing if I’d live to tell Lisa bedtime stories and teach Junior how to fix his bike. Didn’t dream back then that I’d outlive all of them, y’know?” Frank let out a deep sigh. “But we aren’t here to talk about that. You see I know a thing or two about abusing power. As much as it makes me want to vomit saying it, I’m a little like you Doc.”
The doctor cried out in pain as Frank pulled out the knife from his thigh. “I was part of the GCPD and that, my friend is a whole other can of worms.”
…
You see some shit when you’re a soldier. Awful shit. But after a while you get tired. Never took a toll on me physically but the mental toll was a slow acting poison. After the war, my lady knew I couldn’t go back to normal. She knew I needed structure, needed order and say what you want about Gotham but the Veteran’s program is great so I got myself a job over at the GCPD.
“Anything I can get you, Castle?” Officer Santana, his partner, asked.
Frank remained silent. Santana shrugged. He exited the car, barely able to get his bulky frame out. “Suit yourself.”
Frank watched rain patter on the windshield as Santana walked over to the donut stand, smiling and sweet talking the lady at the counter, paying her with the dirty money he got from the Falconies. Or was it the Maronies? Frank couldn’t remember. Scum was scum.
The tightly packed buildings loomed over them. The shower of rain made Frank feel like he was drowning under the sea and his outfit felt itchy. Frank wasn’t used to the police uniform. It was too complicated, too many buttons and belts and hooks unlike his old Marine outfit. Everybody back at the Marines were simple. Good men and women fighting for their country or just wanting to get home. Over here, except for a meagre few like Gordon all you saw were men and women taking bribes and looking the other way. In war, everybody was equal. Here, shit wasn’t so simple.
“All officers,” the operator droned. “All operators. Reported assault down by the apartments near the Narrows. Caucasian male dragging a young female into his apartment. Requesting any nearby patrols to investigate.”
Frank picked up the radio. “Officer Castle, here. I’m on my way.”
It was at that moment that Santana opened the door. He waited for him to get in as Santana placed a box of donuts on the windshield before starting up the car.
Frank turned on the sirens and drove through the cramped streets of Gotham.
“What’s up Castle?” Santana said. “Where we headed?”
“Near the narrows,” Frank said. “An assault or something.”
“Shit like that always happens around there,” Santana said, munching on a donut. “No need to get your panties in a twist, Marine.”
Frank ignored Santana. They parked in front of the warn down apartment, the police siren howling and the red and blue lights flashing across the worn plaster. While Santana handled a radio call, Frank left him alone and entered the apartment.
“He’s up there,” mumbled an old man by the lobby. “Second floor, room 23. Dragged a poor girl, kept threatening us with a knife. Josh tried playing the hero, make sure he’s…”
Frank ignored him and rushed up the stairs. Following the sounds of a lady screaming for help and a scratchy voice telling her to shut up.
Frank burst through the door of Room 23. A dark musty room that smelt like rats. The light was so dim that the red and blue of the police lights overpowered it. In the dim lights, Frank saw a man get off a woman in the corner of the room, brandishing a bloodied knife.
On his left Frank saw a fresh corpse. Male, couldn’t have been more than 17, blood pouring out of his throat and wide-open glassy eyes.
The girl was lying in the corner, crying. Her clothes ripped and with bruises all over her body.
The man was big, burly. Stern face with a fat nose, beard that muffled his mouth and long shaggy hair. He only pulled up his pants when he saw Frank.
“Look, boss,” the man said, grinning. “I’ll come quietly. I…”
Frank fired one bullet in his chest and another in his head. His brain splattered all over the walls. At that moment, Santana walked in. He saw the man lying in the ground and the smoke trailing out of the barrel.
The police lights flashed red and blue. The blue shined over Frank’s ice-cold face.
“Didn’t know you were such a goody two shoes, Frank,” Santana said. “You’ve made a fine mess of things.”
The lady was crying in the corner, her chest spasming, hands over her eyes.
“Get a paramedic for the girl,” Frank said. “She…”
“I’m already on it.”
Frank held out of his hands.
“What’re you doing?” Santana said.
“I just killed a man,” Frank said.
“A man nobody cares about,” Santana said and chuckled. “Look if we were arrested for every rapist, murderer or creep we killed Gotham wouldn’t have anybody to protect it. You can just plead self-defence, nobody in this city gives a shit. Everything will be covered up anyway.”
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“Operator, has the assault over at the Narrows been dealt with?” The operator’s voice crackled over Santana’s radio.
“Yeah, things escalated,” Santana said. “Old Frank had to use his gun in self-defence. Might want the paramedics to clean up the mess.”
“Okay, over and out.”
The lights flashed red and blue. In the blue, Frank saw the corpse of the boy that was killed. In the red he saw himself.
…
“Yeah Doc,” Frank said. “The GCPD is fucked up, aren’t they? But I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t feel whole when I saw the bullet go through that bastard’s head. Now I ran into a lot of assholes and I put a bullet in their head. Santana was a dick but he covered up for me and nobody cared. My kids didn’t need to know daddy was a killer and neither did my wife. Few years into my service, the Batman came.”
“You know the Batman, don’t you…?” Frank turned and saw the Doctor dozing off. Frank sighed, picking up a hammer he slammed it against the Doctor’s chest. Blood stained the tape over his mouth as the doctor keeled over. “I thought you got paid to listen. Now you got the tape all dirty…”
Frank ripped the tape off.
“Please,” the doctor begged, barely able to say those words with the amount of blood in his mouth. “Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
Frank placed another tape over his mouth.
“As I was saying,” Frank said. “The Batman came to Gotham. I think people down in New York also know the Batman and when he came so did a bunch of freaks and I couldn’t do anything about those freaks. Nobody, not even me wanted the Batman on their ass. Even though they were a bunch of freaks, the Falconies and Maronies still had their grubby little hands all over Gotham. Sure, plenty of them were dying, that little Cobblepot midget had the resources to match but that didn’t change the fact that Gotham belonged to those mafia bastards. Until the Long Halloween.”
Frank chuckled. “Gordon needed cops he could trust so they could purge the families’ control over Gotham. And God bless his soul, I was one of those cops. Ratted out some of the pests in the force, even the ones who covered up for me. Good old Santana didn’t know what hit him but I could remember, just barely the hatred in his eyes.” Frank chuckled but then his face twisted, turned into one of deep sadness and a regret that caused his shoulders to slump down. “A decision I regret to this day.”
…
He had stopped hyperventilating; his heartbeat had steadied and he regained consciousness. His body had recovered but Frank didn’t rest. Couldn’t rest. How could he? Maria, Lisa, Junior they were… they were…
Gordon walked in the room. He looked even more stressed than usual. His hair was in its usual unkempt state and his face was pale.
“I… I have a wife,” Gordon said. “And a… a daughter. I’m…”
Gordon looked away. His face scrunched up in regret. “God, Frank if I had known I wouldn’t have put you up to it. I’m sorry Frank.”
“It’s okay Comish,” Frank said, his voice cracked. It had been a while since he talked. Frank let out a dry chuckle. “You are Commissioner now? Gotham hasn’t been in better hands.”
“I know but we lost Harvey and…” Gordon sighed. “Look Frank, I don’t know how I can…”
“You got the names, right?”
“What?”
“Your boys identified the bastards over at the park?” Frank asked.
“Yeah, some of Falcone and Maroni’s men but…”
“And those men, the dirty cops?” Frank paused. “They’re not cops anymore, right?”
“No but…”
Frank smiled. “Thanks, Gordon. After a few months I’ll be ready.”
“Ready for what.”
Gordon would never forget the stone-cold expression in his eyes on that day. The distant, hollow eyes of a man who had lost everything.
“To put those assholes where they belong.”
…
“I started with the Maroni and Falcone boys,” Frank said, sharpening a knife. “Doing that obviously pissed off a lot of the higher ups there but I didn’t care. Fun thing was I used their weapons. Stopped a shipment of theirs and stole it. Word got around Gotham about my exploits and they started calling me the Punisher.”
Frank turned to the Doctor. “You doing okay, Doc? You eyeing that knife pretty suspiciously.” Frank chuckled. “Don’t worry Doc, it’ll be over soon.”
“And then I started going after those cops,” Frank said. “The former cops. See I don’t have anything against folks in uniform, been one myself. But these guys, these weren’t cops. They were clowns masquerading as cops. Didn’t feel anything when I blew their brains out. It was when I was after hunting that fat bastard Santana that I ran into him. The god damn Batman.”
…
Santana collapsed on the flat rooftop, pain searing up his thigh. He walked towards him, trench coat over his suit. Belts littered filled to the brim with ammo, holding nothing but a pistol.
Santana crawled away, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
“I’m sorry, Frank,” Santana said, face contorted in pain. “I didn’t have a choice…”
“What you say next will effect whether I make your death painless,” Frank grinned. “Or painful.”
Santana paused. “I… uh… I…”
“I’m not a patient man, Santana,” Frank said. “Clock’s ticking.”
Santana pulled out a pistol but a bullet made his hand burst in an explosion of red as Santana let out a scream.
“You have nothing, Santana,” Frank said. “All your friends in the Falconies and Maronies are dead or they don’t give a shit about you. Why, Santana? Why’d you have to and tell em about me?”
“Fuck you Frank,” Santana said. “I covered up for you, all those fuckers you killed, I COVERED UP FOR YOU! And you go along and snitch on me. Snitch on all of us, you…”
“Shut up,” Frank said. “Don’t you talk to me about loyalty. I won’t hear any of it. Now tell me, Santana. Why’d you tell em about me?”
Santana grinned. “Money, Frank. It was all about the money. The Falconies and Maronies were offering a shit ton of cash for your head and…”
Before Frank could fire there was a ruffle of wind and someone tackled him across the floor like a truck.
“Robin, get him out of here.”
“You got it boss,” said a chipper boy. After last year, the Batman had taken in a young kid to fight alongside him. A decision Frank despised. Bringing a kid into a war was suicidal and Frank could see it in the Batman’s eyes. He was a soldier, just like him. The boy on the other hand hadn’t seen what this city had to offer.
Batman ripped the gun from his hand, when he was satisfied, he got up.
“Stop this, Frank,” Batman said. “Killing them won’t bring your family back.”
Frank ran towards his pistol. He saw the boy placing Santana over his shoulder. If he got to it in time maybe he could finally nab that bastard but the Batman was fast. He launched a grappling hook at the gun and emptied all the bullets on the ground. Just as the boy ran away with Santana on his back.
“Your war is over Frank,” Batman said. “You were an exemplary soldier and a good cop. We can rehabilitate you. They’re people in the force who care about you. You don’t have to keep fighting.”
“You talk about wars?” Frank asked. “About the war being over. Funny thing is, the look in your eyes says otherwise. You have the eyes of a soldier, my friend. You talk big but the war isn’t quite over for you now, is it?”
Batman was quiet.
“And you think I don’t see it,” Frank said. “That nobody sees it. All those little gadgets. That car that might as well be a tank. You’re fighting your own little war, aren’t you? We’re both soldiers aren’t we, Bats? Thing about you is that you’re a half-measure, you beat those freaks up half to death for what? To feel good about yourself after they kill even more people after they escape?” Frank scoffed. “Let me tell you something, Bats. Wars don’t end with half-measures.”
“I take it you don’t want to negotiate,” Batman said.
“Yeah, Bats,” Frank said. “I don’t.” Frank grinned. “Besides you really think it’s a good idea to be locking me up with those freaks? What’d you think’s going to happen to them? You really think I’ll let them go. No Pointy, I’m a soldier and we don’t believe in half-measures.”
“Very well.”
It happened before Frank had a chance to react. There was a rustle of wind and everything went black.
Frank woke up on the outskirts of Gotham, trees as far as the eye could see but the distant smell of smog was unmistakable. His neck was aching like hell and he felt groggy.
When he shook himself awake, he saw Santana right in front of him, hands tied behind his back and tape around his mouth. When Santana saw Frank, his eyes widened. Frank had a pistol in his hand. He was just about to shoot when an electric shock ran through his body causing him to keel over.
He heard heavy footsteps and turned to see Batman.
Frank went to pick up the gun but an electric shock ran through his neck again causing him to keel over.
“I implanted a chip in your neck,” Batman said. “It lets me know where you are and what you’re doing.”
Frank rushed over to Santana who squirmed backwards but Batman pressed a button and Frank collapsed mid-charge.
“You come anywhere near my city and I’ll know,” Batman said. “You touch anyone, scum or not and I’ll know.”
Frank glowered at Batman but he didn’t flinch.
“You try anything, Castle and I’ll know.” Batman turned to the trees. There was flash of bright red and Robin picked up Santana before disappearing into the woods. “Putting you in prison would be too dangerous and I don’t believe in half-measures.”
Frank chuckled. “How many people are going to die for you to realise what you’re doing is just child’s play huh Bats?”
Frank got up. Batman tensed but Frank waved him aside. “I’ll follow your rules, Bats but mark my words. One day one of those freaks will kill someone close to you. Could be Gordon, could be that little boy of yours and we’ll see whether or not those half-measures of yours still hold up.”
Frank walked into the woods, burying himself in the trees. “See you later, Bats.”
…
“Y’know for a while,” Frank said. “Going from city to city, for a while I thought I’d be able to stop. Take it slow, enjoy myself. The newspapers over at Gotham called me the Punisher and I thought maybe I could put the Punisher aside.”
Frank scoffed. “And then I see a scumbag pinning a girl to a car, a junkie stabbing some bastard to death and a doctor touching kids and getting away with it.” Frank turned to face the doctor. “And I realise it isn’t so easy. My old lady said I needed order; I think I just need a war. Normal day to day life just doesn’t make sense for me doc and people like you, people like those rapists and murderers, they ain’t normal.”
Frank’s shadow loomed over the doctor; he brandished the knife. “Knife’s sharp enough.”
The doctor let out frightened screams, his face was red like a pimple about to pop and sweat drenched his face. Ignoring the muffled screams Frank walked over to the sink to clean the knife. He ran water over the glinting blade noticing a pile of old newspapers on the side.
“Y’know I’ve been thinking of going home doc?” Frank said. “Ain’t no place like home after all.”
The newspaper headline read: “Gotham City mourns.” Underneath was an article about the recent Joker attacks and the names of the many people he killed.
“Visit Maria, Lisa and Junior,” Frank said. “Tell them I’m doing okay.”
He flicked the knife as droplets of water scattered in the sink. He slowly walked towards the doctor who pleaded with Frank with his eyes. Frank’s shadow grew larger and larger.
“After that I think I’ll do some cleaning up.”
Frank jabbed the knife straight into the doctor’s neck. The doctor choked, letting out a pathetic sputter. Blood poured into the knife and dripped onto the floor.
“Gotham’s been going to shit lately and I think it’s time for some change,” Frank said. “And a little cleaning didn’t hurt anybody.”
Frank pulled out the knife. The Doctor coughed as blood poured down from his neck, staining his clothes crimson. His life was draining alongside his blood. He choked out one last burst of blood before his head lulled to the side.
“I’m going home doc.”
Frank turned his back, running a hand over a fresh scar at the back of his neck where a chip used to be. He walked over to the newspapers and jammed his knife into one of them.
“Cause nobody, nobody likes half-measures.”
Blood dripped from the knife, trickling its way down onto the black and white forehead of the Joker.
To be continued…