07-26-2004, 04:51 AM
With a calm and gentle motion, the mysterious attacker reached forward with his thumb, and eased the hammer of his pistol back, ready to fire. âYou think a few pretty words and a dye job can get me off your case, McCoy? Think again.â With a deafening crack, a bullet, blessed by a certified man of the cloth, exited the chamber of Frank Castleâs Beretta at an impossible speed. Aimed directly for Beastâs heart, the bullet should have torn right through the would be vampireâs hide, and destroyed him on the spot. But instead, the bullet impacted against the super-dense skin of the Watchâs gamma level powerhouse, and collapsed upon itself, leaving Hank with nothing more than a momentary bruise, which faded to nothing before the shell casing could even hit the rooftop. Realizing that there was more to this McCoy than met the eye, Castle holstered his weapons and raised both hands into the air. Calling out to night he yelled, âPunishers, stand down!â
In response to Castleâs order, four men who up until that point had stayed completely hidden but ready to strike, made their presence known. One man, clad in a leather motorcycle jacket, was perched atop a neighboring building with a sniper rifle in hand that was no doubt loaded with the same blessed bullets as Castleâs pistols. The rifle was trained ominously on the members of the Watch. Another was crouched in the shadows no more than ten yards from the team. He was bald headed, dressed in black and clutched long wood bladed daggers in each hand. The third man, a dark headed fellow not much older than Paige, rose into the air from between the buildings, levitating under his own power. And the forth came from the shadows behind the team. As the tall dark skinned man stepped forward, he spoke an answer to Barryâs earlier assumption, âYou got that right, kid. Heâs packing a lot more.â
With his companions on standby, Castle turned back to the man that he knew as an enemy. Trust was not given to anyone in New York after sunset, and the vampire hunter was not about to break that rule now. With suspicion in his voice he answered Hankâs questions, âIâm Frank Castle. And these are the Punishers. We hunt the evil that hunts mankind. And this here ainât no trophy. Its rightful owner was slaughtered by the $#!+ that preys on this city. Iâm simply making sure it doesnât fall into the wrong hands.â
In response to Castleâs order, four men who up until that point had stayed completely hidden but ready to strike, made their presence known. One man, clad in a leather motorcycle jacket, was perched atop a neighboring building with a sniper rifle in hand that was no doubt loaded with the same blessed bullets as Castleâs pistols. The rifle was trained ominously on the members of the Watch. Another was crouched in the shadows no more than ten yards from the team. He was bald headed, dressed in black and clutched long wood bladed daggers in each hand. The third man, a dark headed fellow not much older than Paige, rose into the air from between the buildings, levitating under his own power. And the forth came from the shadows behind the team. As the tall dark skinned man stepped forward, he spoke an answer to Barryâs earlier assumption, âYou got that right, kid. Heâs packing a lot more.â
With his companions on standby, Castle turned back to the man that he knew as an enemy. Trust was not given to anyone in New York after sunset, and the vampire hunter was not about to break that rule now. With suspicion in his voice he answered Hankâs questions, âIâm Frank Castle. And these are the Punishers. We hunt the evil that hunts mankind. And this here ainât no trophy. Its rightful owner was slaughtered by the $#!+ that preys on this city. Iâm simply making sure it doesnât fall into the wrong hands.â