𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

WARNING: This chapter will discuss and include instances of human trafficking, more specifically child trafficking. I have made an effort to portray it in a way that is not excessively explicit, while still being true to the impact it has. Although I will not frequently showcase these scenes in this piece, they play a significant role in the overall narrative, and I believe it would be dishonest to ignore them. Please be aware of the sensitive nature of this content.

The agonizing screams reverberating off the cold, unforgiving cement walls were starting to grate on Frank Castle's nerves. Being the Punisher had its downsides, and tonight was one of those moments. Frank relished in inflicting pain upon others, but this particular whiny man was pushing his limits.

Typically, Frank possessed the patience of a saint. He knew how to bide his time, waiting for the opportunity to seize what he desired most. However, when he was seeking genuine answers and the man before him was too preoccupied with fear and tears to provide a coherent response, Frank's temper flared.

With a menacing tone, Frank issued a warning, his knife poised dangerously close to the man's eye. "This blade is on the verge of piercing halfway through your eyeball," he growled. "I won't hesitate to show you no mercy and drive it all the way into your brain."

The whiny man's voice trembled as he cried out, "Damn it, man! I already told you, I've only been to the warehouse a few times. I have no knowledge of any damn ritual."

"So, you're utterly useless, is that what you're implying?" Frank deduced, inching the blade even closer to the man's eye.

In a desperate attempt to shield himself, the whiny man tightly shut his eyes, as if a mere centimeter of flesh could prevent the knife from penetrating his eye socket.

Frank found it laughable, a twisted amusement bubbling within him.

"No, no, please," the man pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "I know someone who frequents that warehouse. They might possess the information you seek."

Sweat trickled down the man's nose, mingling with the blood staining his face. His once greasy, overgrown blonde hair now clung to his forehead and the nape of his neck, its color transformed to a crimson red.

Frank had already inflicted severe damage upon the man. He had severed one of his ears, torn off ten fingernails, severed both Achilles heels, strategically placed stab wounds to prevent rapid bleeding, and fractured countless bones. The man's suffering was immeasurable.

But Frank knew that he had to push further. He needed the information, and he needed it now. The stakes were too high, and he couldn't afford to waste any more time.

Frank received a text from his acquaintance, David Lieberman, also known as Micro when they were in action together. The message revealed the existence of a human trafficking ring operating in Hell's Kitchen. That was the reason he found himself there. His visit to Josie's was meant to be a brief respite, but upon seeing Karen, along with Foggy, Matt, and even Amy, it felt as if his haunting past was slowly catching up to him.

Frank's mind raced as he contemplated the horrors that awaited those trapped in the clutches of the human trafficking ring. The thought of innocent lives being bought and sold like commodities fueled his determination to put an end to this vile operation.

With a cold, calculating gaze, Frank leaned in closer to the man's trembling form. The scent of fear and blood filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of the knife in his hand. He could see the desperation in the man's eyes, the flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could escape this torment.

"You have one last chance," Frank growled, his voice low and menacing. "Tell me everything you know, or I promise you, the pain you've experienced so far will be nothing compared to what comes next."