[center][sub][h1][img]https://i.postimg.cc/FHxsDqvr/punisher2.png[/img]
[b][color=white] T H E  P U N I S H E R[/color]
[color=black]T H E  P U N I S H E R[/color][/b][/h1][/sub]
[sub][h2][b][color=white] I S S U E  # 3[/color]
[color=black]I S S U E  # 3[/color][/b][/h2][/sub]
[sup][h3][b][color=white] T R I A G E[/color]
[color=black]T R I A G E[/color][/b][/h3][/sup][/center]

[b]"We come to you live from the crime scene at the Stardust Lounge in west Staten Island, where a brutal shooting has taken place that claimed the lives of nine men and left one in critical condition. Police are still on the hunt for the gunman who fled the scene shortly before first responders arri-"[/b] I turn off the TV. Too much background noise. Need to focus on the task at hand.

[color=darkkhaki][b]"You sure you don't want any help with this?"[/b][/color] Dave asks. He sets a bottle of whiskey down on the coffee table next to the first aid kit. A few other implements lay scattered across the table, haphazardly thrown together for this impromptu operation. I grab for the bottle and take a deep swig before setting it back down.

[color=black][b]"I got it, Dave. Thanks."[/b][/color] I look down at my bare thigh and the bullet hole that had torn into it. Didn't hit the bone, thank God, but it didn't go clean through either. I'm gonna have to do this the hard way. I take a washcloth and stick in my mouth, biting down hard, then grab the tweezers off the coffee table. I take in a deep breath, before slowly inserting the tweezers into the wound.

My nerves light up like they're on fire, searing pain shooting up my entire body from the bullet wound. I bite down hard on the cloth and dig the tweezers deeper, deeper, until finally, I get a grip on the bullet. One quick tug and the tweezers pull out the wad of metal, covered in a shiny crimson coat of my own blood. I toss the tweezers back onto the coffee table and grab for the peroxide, splashing some onto the bullet hole.

It burns. And what I'm about to do is gonna make it even worse.

I grab the blowtorch and a metal butter knife off the coffee table, sparking the torch and sticking the blade into the flame. Slowly but surely, the blade begins to burn a bright red, and I kill the torch. I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath, then press the hot knife against my wound. My scream is muffled by the rag stuffed in my mouth. I feel tears pricking at my eyes, then rolling down my cheek. I fight through the pain, keep the blade pressed down onto the wound.

Inhale.

Count to ten.

Exhale.

I pull the knife away. The wound has sealed, the skin shriveled and almost seeming to glow a bright, burnt red. While a moment ago my thigh felt like it was on fire, the only pain left now is a dull and throbbing ache. The smell is almost nauseating, like burnt steak with a heavy helping of blood and iron. I keep breathing through my mouth to avoid the stench, trying to slow the beating of my racing heart.

[color=darkkhaki][b]"Fuck... That hurt just to watch,"[/b][/color] Dave says.

I wipe a cold sweat from my brow. [color=black][b]"Imagine how it felt... Jesus..."[/b][/color] I grab for the whiskey again and take another swig. It helps, if only a little.

[color=darkkhaki][b]"So... What's next?"[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]"Next? Next I go after their operations."[/b][/color]

[color=darkkhaki][b]"... Their operations? Why?"[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]"I'm not gonna get to Saint without tearing his organization down."[/b][/color]

[color=darkkhaki][b]"What? You can't be fucking serious, Frank. I thought this was about getting the guy who killed your family?"[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]"This isn't about revenge, Dave."[/b][/color]

[color=darkkhaki][b]"Then what is it, Frank?"[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]"It's about making sure they get punished for their crimes."[/b][/color]

[color=darkkhaki][b]"Fucking hell, what, you think you're John Wick now or some shit? This is the stupidest idea you've ever had and that's saying something."[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]"You know me, Dave. I've never been one to do the smart thing."[/b][/color]

[color=darkkhaki][b]"No, I guess not. This is suicidal, Frank. You're trying to square up against one of the largest criminal organizations on the east coast. They'll kill you."[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]"Maybe they will. But I'll kill a whole lot more of them."[/b][/color]

[color=darkkhaki][b]"You're... You're serious."[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]"Yeah. I am."[/b][/color] I take another swig from the bottle of whiskey. [color=black][b]"So. Are you going to help, or not?"[/b][/color]

Dave looks at me like I've gone insane. After a moment, however, he just looks down at his lap. [color=darkkhaki][b]"... Shit."[/b][/color] He looks back up at me. [color=darkkhaki][b]"Alright... Where do you wanna start?"[/b][/color]

I smile.