Months Earlier

The gravesite of the Castle family had been disrupted late one particularly cold February night. Three caskets came up and three went back in their place so no one would ever suspect foul play and, by dawn, no one would be able to tell the Castle family plot had been disturbed. The next day, the three coffins had been packaged inside of large crates and sent to Nicky Cavella’s factory for him to personally inspect.

Having gotten back into running his section of the mob not even a day after his son died, Cavella never forgot the name Frank Castle, but never connected him to being the Punisher. Not until one day at a meeting of the heads of the mob families of New York, after the death of Don Martoni in Chicago, that the connection was made abundantly clear.

That was when the plan was set in motion to destroy Frank Castle through his dead family…the only thing he truly cared about.

Then the day came that he learned of Frank’s bastard son and he knew how to complete his revenge. He’d destroy Frank, break him down with the horrible things he was going to do to his family. By the time Frank Castle was ready to die, he’d be crying and begging for Cavella to put a bullet in his head.

Needless to say, as he lay bound and gagged inside of the trunk of Frank Castle’s car, Nicky Cavella was realizing that he had greatly underestimated Frank Castle.

OUT OF THE PAST

Part IV

By Tobias Christopher

Now

It was two hours later, as the heads of the New York mob families walked into the factory, with their various bodyguards and associates. The death of Frank Castle was something that had to be seen in person and, if Nicky Cavella failed, well…there’d be enough firepower in the room to kill Castle before he could blink.

Upon entering the building, the last man in found a hand wrapped around his mouth, dragging him into the darkness of the alley next to the factory. The Punisher wanted at least one man left alive to deliver his message.

As the mob bosses walked in, all they saw was a carnage-strewn room. The caskets of Frank’s family had been removed, all but the wreckage of David’s although Frank had taken loving care to keep the chair in one piece now that he knew the horrible truth. The bodies of Cavella’s men continued to lay around the room, although Cavella himself was nowhere to be found.

As the men wondered where Cavella was and if the Punisher was still around, one thing was made abundantly clear: They were all dead.

9…8…7…6….5…4…3…2…

KABOOOOOOMMMM!

The explosives Frank had planted the previous day, as well as the ones he’d managed to plant as he removed his family from the soon to be destroyed factory, were finally put to use. The warehouse exploded in a fiery ball, taking everyone inside with it; everyone, that is, except for Nicky Cavella, who was tied up in the trunk of his car, as well as the one associate of the mob that Frank had managed to kidnap before he walked into the deathtrap.

As Frank got into the front seat of the car, he looked back at the scared young man laying on the back seat. “Get some sleep. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

By the time the police and firefighters arrived, the factory was nothing more than a pile of rubble and debris, the Castle Family having been moved via a conveniently placed moving van to a safer location miles away.

The next morning, Frank sent the young man on his way, having left him by the side of the road with nothing more than a videotape in his hand and an explicit message.

“I know a lot of those fucks decided not to show,” said Frank to the scared young mobster, “which is why I’m going to let you live so you can spread the word. About what happens to anyone who fucks with me and my family…but, just so you know, if I ever see you again and if you’re still working for the mob…I’ll break your neck before you can blink.”

As he watched the young man run off, Frank grunted a little. The injuries he’d acquired over the last 24 hours were finally catching up to him.

Hell’s Kitchen, the previous day

“What are you doing?” asked Morgan as Chip laid on the motel bed, working on his laptop. Luckily Chip had gotten fresh sheets for the bed before anything else, since he didn’t know what diseases and germs awaited him under the old sheets.

“Hacking into surveillance systems,” replied Chip as he worked. “Looking to see where Castle is now. Maybe if I can find him, I can see if he needs any help. Won’t be able to contact him, but maybe I can–”

Chip looked up and saw Morgan standing in the bathroom, looking into the mirror. The boy was looking at his wound, which was still spilling blood all over the blue shirt he was wearing.

“I never noticed it before, but…you never change your clothes,” said Chip as he stopped focusing on finding Frank for the moment. That was the most haunting part of his brother’s appearance, always wearing his favorite blue shirt, constantly ruining it with a never-ending fountain of red.

“I’m a fucking ghost, I can’t exactly shop at the GAP,” replied Morgan without looking away from his reflection. Chip stood up and walked into the bathroom, looking into the mirror, only seeing his reflection. Morgan’s reflection was nowhere to be seen.

“Do you hate me?” asked Chip as he put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Do you hate that…I didn’t do anything to save you?”

“I hate that I never had a chance to grow up,” replied Morgan simply. “I hate that I never knew Mom and Dad like you did. I hate…I hate that I didn’t get to really know you. You don’t even know what I’d be like if I was, well, really alive. Maybe I’d be a total dick.”

“What, you aren’t now?” asked Chip with a laugh.

“I don’t hate you,” said Morgan, finally looking up at him. “I just want to rest in peace.”

“You will,” said Chip, kissing the top of his brother’s head, feeling nothing but thin air. “I promise you, that.”

“By the way, you’re a dick, too,” said Morgan as he looked back into the mirror. “You gonna tell Castle why you really want to join his war?”

“If he hasn’t already done his digging on me,” said Chip as he headed back to the bed. “Guess we’ll find out in a week. Speak of the devil–”

Hacking into the surveillance system of Cavella’s factory, Chip found Frank chained to a chair, with three caskets sitting in the room. Listening into the conversation, Chip quickly realized that the caskets belonged to the Castle Family.

“Holy shit,” said Chip as he watched Frank break free. He started typing as Morgan sat down next to him.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a moving van big enough for three caskets,” replied Chip as he hacked into a moving company’s database. “I’ll have it dropped off nearby where he’ll definitely see it so he can move those caskets quickly.”

“And what makes you think that he’s going to survive against those–” Morgan started to say before looking back at the screen, and all the carnage that had been caused. “Wow, I stand corrected.”

The tape in the young surviving mobster’s hand was copied and sent to the head of every mob family, circulated just as Don Martoni’s message was months earlier, with just as much speed.

Within days, all around the country, the heads of various mob families from the West Coast all the way to the East sat back and watched Frank Castle’s message to them. Only one particular mob boss was left unimpressed with Frank’s message.

“Nicky Cavella was a worthless piece of shit who thought he could get the best of me, and he did,” said Frank into the camera. “He fucked with the one thing I care about, the one thing I’m sure all of you are aware of. He fucked with my family and this is what happened to him–what’s going to happen to ANYONE who ever dares to mess with my family’s remains.”

Frank had the camera focused to Cavella’s severed head, which was mounted on a pike at the cemetery where his family was to be reburied. All across the country, even the strongest stomached mobster felt his lunch coming back up on him.

“This is what’s going to happen to the next son of a bitch who goes after anyone–ANYONE–I’m associated with,” promised Frank. “Nicky Cavella succeeded in pissing me off…does anyone else want to follow in his footsteps?”

And with that, the video ended. Within 24 hours, most of the families who’d put out the search to find Frank Castle’s living son had called off their quest. After witnessing Cavella’s fate, no one wanted to risk Castle’s wrath that badly. Of course, that didn’t mean that everyone had given up finding the boy…

Finding a severed head in the cemetery was more than enough incentive for the authorities to quickly rebury the Castle family. Frank had found all the remains of David he could in the factory and prayed as his son was lowered back into the Earth that the boy was whole.

“I’m so sorry,” said Frank as he watched from a safe distance while the Castles were put back into the ground. He’d patched up his wounds enough to stop the bleeding, but he was seriously going to need a lot of rest and first aid before he went on another mission. “No one will ever disturb any of you again, I promise.”

As he turned around to leave, Frank wondered if his family really was at peace now. Maybe someday he’d have that peace, too, but that wasn’t very likely. Not after everything he’d done since they were taken away from him. Not after everything he’d do in the years to come.

Several Days Later

Chip stood in the restroom of the men’s room at the bar he was to meet Frank at, looking into the mirror. In his hand were two small pills. He’d managed to get a hold of his pills that he’d left in the storage unit by calling in every favor he could think of. The bottle had reached his hands just before leaving for the bar a half hour ago.

“Don’t make me go away,” pleaded Morgan with tears in his eyes. “Please, I’ll be good, I promise.”

“I’m sorry,” said Chip, tears filling his eyes as well. “I just–I can’t focus on this job with you around. But I’m going to avenge you, I promise. Your killer’s going to pay.”

“I’ll miss you,” Morgan said as he wrapped his arms around Chip’s body, holding him tightly. For the first time, Chip could have sworn he actually felt the warmth of Morgan’s touch against him. Swallowing the pills and taking a sip of water, Chip kissed the top of his brother’s head.

“I love you, little bro,” whispered Chip as he walked away. As Morgan stood in the bathroom, Chip walked past the swinging door to return to the main area. As the door swung in and out, if Chip had looked back, he’d have seen Morgan had vanished just before the door’s final swing.

Frank was sitting at the bar, having ordered a ginger ale. He would have loved nothing more than a tall, frosty, glass of beer, but he needed his body in top shape at all times. Dulling his senses with alcohol wasn’t going to help him if a bad situation arose at any given moment. Right now, he looked, and felt, like hell. His bullet wounds had been sewed up, he was still feeling a little dizzy from massive blood loss, and his right hand was in a cast, having broken nearly every bone in it. He shouldn’t have even been out of bed right now, but he needed to know if the kid would show.

Chip soon joined him at the bar, ordering a soda, barely acknowledging Frank was there at the moment. The two continued to sit in awkward silence, neither quite knowing how to kick off the conversation, before Frank spoke up.

“Nice job with the moving van,” said Frank as he stared ahead.

“How did you–”

“Figured it was you,” replied Frank as he took a drink. “You’ve got balls, kid. Figured you wouldn’t have shown, let alone get here a week early.”

“Almost didn’t,” said Chip as he stared down into his drink. “Had a…lot of thinking to do. But this is what I have to do. Plus I’ll be able to help you a lot. I’m one of the world’s greatest hackers.”

“This job requires a lot more than computer skills,” said Frank as he looked over at the young man. “You’re going to get your hands dirty. REAL dirty. Maybe even have to take a life or two yourself if it comes down to it.”

“I know,” whispered Chip as he took a drink. “I…thought a lot about that.”

“So, how long before you send me after your family’s killer?” asked Frank bluntly as Chip spit out his drink. Frank took another sip out of his glass, expecting that reaction. “I’m not stupid kid. I had every last file I could on you dug up the second I walked out of your apartment. Hard files that can’t be erased by computer.”

“This is the part where you tell me to go fuck myself and then you leave, isn’t it?” asked Chip as he sat there. Frank looked up into the mirror on the bar and saw someone watching him and Chip. Just from the look on the man’s face, Frank knew the man had made him.

“This is the part where I tell you that once you get into this life, that dying is the only way out,” replied Frank simply. “You take out your family’s killers…there’s no way to return to a normal life after that. Every mission gets you deeper and deeper into this world until it suffocates you, drowns you, takes away your soul a piece at a time. So again I ask: Are you prepared to make that sacrifice?”

Chip stared down into his drink, thinking about what was going to happen next. After a minute, he finally spoke up. Meanwhile, Frank was watching the man at the back of the bar walk towards the door. “…Yes. I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

“Then we hit the road in twenty minutes,” said Frank as he looked over at his new associate. The first stop would be a safehouse out in the country for a few days so Frank could recover, and show Chip how to properly fire a gun. “Your first assignment is to pay the tab. I’ll be waiting outside.”

Outside, a man was trying to be discreet as he talked to his boss on the phone.

“Yeah, it’s the Punisher,” the man said as he talked. “He’s talking to some punk. He looks a lot like the kid you told us about,” the man said as he listened carefully to his employer. “You want me to take the kid out? What about the Punisher? How am I supposed to whack some kid while he’s standing around?”

The man felt something large behind him. Swallowing hard, he turned his attention back to the call. “I gotta go, boss.”

Seconds later, Chip walked out, finding Frank waiting by the car. In the alley behind him was a man who had choked to death on his cell phone before being thrown into a dumpster.

“So, where are we headed?” asked Chip as they started walking.

“Anywhere that’s not New York,” replied Frank as they headed off.

In California, Howard Saint sat behind the desk in his mansion. He was a rich businessman, although he’d built his legacy on his family’s mob ties. To the general public and his family, he was a good man, but he was far more than that once you got past his exterior. It didn’t take long to realize what had happened to his informant.

“Bernie’s dead,” Saint said as he threw his cell phone across the room. “I knew I should have had that damn kid killed while he was comatose, now he’s going to bring the fucking Punisher to my doorstep!”

“We’ll take care of it, boss,” said a bald man sitting at a table not far away, playing Canasta with the security guards. “They won’t get within a mile of here.”

“Good, because if they do, you’ll be the first ones he kills,” said Saint as he looked at the morning paper, declaring his bid to run for Governor of California. He had the money, power and connections to pull it off…he just needed to make sure nothing got in his way. It was then that a knock came at the door.

“Dad? Mom wants to know if you want to go to the movies,” said a child’s voice.

“Sure, son,” Saint smiled as he stood up. “Keep an eye on things, I’m spending time with the family.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Saint,” the bald man smiled.

Saint opened the door, finding a 12-year-old boy with neatly trimmed red hair wearing a perfectly clean blue t-shirt, black pants and sneakers.

“Ready to go, Dad?” asked the boy as Saint picked him up still thankful he was able to do so. Any day now, the boy was due to hit puberty and get a major growth spurt.

“Ready to go, Morgan,” replied Saint as he carried the boy downstairs to spend time with his son.