Post by Punisher on May 10, 2006 9:07:58 GMT -5
“And the LORD sent you on a mission and told you, Go and completely destroy the sinners, until they are all dead.”
“Now then let Me alone, that My anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them; and I will make of you a great nation.”
The dark stretched long into the distance, the faint glow of the moon reflecting shallowly in the pools of water collecting by the side of the road. The rain was still persistent and unrelenting, tiring and wearisome even for Frank, it made his slow progress unbearable. The colt Python in his hand had just been fired, the gun still warm, it epitomised the hatred Frank had, the hatred for man, for mutants. The city was dead, as dead as the guy he had just shot, the scum and filth were hiding. They knew the war was coming. They’d seen the pictures, the videos, the destructive and devastation. They knew.
It had been along time since Frank had used the Colt but it was necessary here, the situation had called for violence. As Frank had discovered long ago, all situations called for violence. In his world violence was the language everyone spoke. In the slums words were useless. Scum didn’t use words. Scum use aggression and violence. Frank was there to complete the adjacency pair. Frank never even saw his face; shrouded in darkness the scum had pushed a knife into Frank’s back. Mistake #1. The scum’s words loud and obtuse. He would regret that. They reverberated on the walls, smacking Frank’s face, harsh and cold, the words lacked passion, flair and ingenuity. Frank knew the scum had done it before, pulled a knife on some poor defenceless person. Frank had a defence. The Scum did not expect that. Before the scum’s first expletive could be uttered he was dead. One shot. In the face. Through the eye. Shit , Frank thought my shots going . Frank shot him again. “This is not revenge,” Frank said “this was punishment”.
Frank walked on, unfazed, the distraction over. Punishment . Frank laughed quietly to himself. He moved faster, not running, towards the centre of the city. He hated the city, home of the indecent and unworthy. New York was no different, more so. Now the people had powers, powers that were killing people. Killing humans. Now frank would kill them. He was back to be Noah, saving the pure. Saving the good.
He stopped, abruptly, drawing his gun. Then the keys to his van. Frank threw the door of the van back, his eyes greeted with a plethora of weapons, violence and hatred. Their war had started, his one was starting. Dropping the Colt, he reached for the Remington 870 and the Pancor Corporation Jackhammer, these seam appropriate, powerful. No . He swapped the Remington for the Desert Eagle. Yes . Locking the van, he turned. and I will make of you a great nation .
“Now then let Me alone, that My anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them; and I will make of you a great nation.”
The dark stretched long into the distance, the faint glow of the moon reflecting shallowly in the pools of water collecting by the side of the road. The rain was still persistent and unrelenting, tiring and wearisome even for Frank, it made his slow progress unbearable. The colt Python in his hand had just been fired, the gun still warm, it epitomised the hatred Frank had, the hatred for man, for mutants. The city was dead, as dead as the guy he had just shot, the scum and filth were hiding. They knew the war was coming. They’d seen the pictures, the videos, the destructive and devastation. They knew.
It had been along time since Frank had used the Colt but it was necessary here, the situation had called for violence. As Frank had discovered long ago, all situations called for violence. In his world violence was the language everyone spoke. In the slums words were useless. Scum didn’t use words. Scum use aggression and violence. Frank was there to complete the adjacency pair. Frank never even saw his face; shrouded in darkness the scum had pushed a knife into Frank’s back. Mistake #1. The scum’s words loud and obtuse. He would regret that. They reverberated on the walls, smacking Frank’s face, harsh and cold, the words lacked passion, flair and ingenuity. Frank knew the scum had done it before, pulled a knife on some poor defenceless person. Frank had a defence. The Scum did not expect that. Before the scum’s first expletive could be uttered he was dead. One shot. In the face. Through the eye. Shit , Frank thought my shots going . Frank shot him again. “This is not revenge,” Frank said “this was punishment”.
Frank walked on, unfazed, the distraction over. Punishment . Frank laughed quietly to himself. He moved faster, not running, towards the centre of the city. He hated the city, home of the indecent and unworthy. New York was no different, more so. Now the people had powers, powers that were killing people. Killing humans. Now frank would kill them. He was back to be Noah, saving the pure. Saving the good.
He stopped, abruptly, drawing his gun. Then the keys to his van. Frank threw the door of the van back, his eyes greeted with a plethora of weapons, violence and hatred. Their war had started, his one was starting. Dropping the Colt, he reached for the Remington 870 and the Pancor Corporation Jackhammer, these seam appropriate, powerful. No . He swapped the Remington for the Desert Eagle. Yes . Locking the van, he turned. and I will make of you a great nation .
