Thread: The Punisher: Call of the Battlefield (True Grave & Verikatt)

Frank parked his car a couple blocks from the crack house so that he could walk the extra distance. When he arrived, he saw that it was grungy and dilapidated, just like any other crack house. With no one else in the alleyway, he brought out his shotgun and pumped it. He approached the boarded up door and kicked it, splintering the wood and forcing the door open. There was nobody on this floor, so he decided to head upstairs. On the next floor, he saw a few people sitting at a table smoking crack. Stepping into the room, he aimed and fired his shotgun, tearing the head off of one junkie and spraying his friend with blood. A pump and a second shot later, his friend had giant hole in his chest. A third pump and a third shot sent a third junkie flying over the couch with his legs balanced on the back of the couch. He grabbed the fourth junkie by the back of the neck and forced him over by a window. I'm new here. Fill me in. I don't know shit, man. Please let me go! The Punisher turned him around and grabbed him by the throat, putting him through the window and holding him outside. Please stop! The Punisher raised and lowered him, loosening and the tightening his grip again. All right, what do you want to know? Who runs this place? His name is Psycho. I don't know his real name. Now please let me go! And Frank did just that, though because it wasn't a long fall, the junkie would survive with a broken leg. I'm feeling generous tonight, so you get a second chance. Frank headed up to the next floor, hosing down any junkies he found along the way. Some had guns and attempted to fight back, but their passing knowledge of firearms was no match for his training and expertise. There were a few innocents in the crack house, and those he let go. He was only here for the guilty, those who would hurt others to get a fix. He battled his way up to the top floor, where he saw a man in a blue hoody and a skull mask overseeing some people cooking methamphetamine. Frank had only a few shots left in his shotgun, so he decided to make them count. Taking aim, he fired at the propane containers, taking cover as a fiery explosion engulfed the room. Psycho was far enough away that he was able to make a run for it, though he could only run to the roof. Frank used the last of his shotgun bullets to dispatch some junkies, then stowed it in his overcoat to draw his pistols. When he got onto the roof, there were a few men lollygagging on the roof. Get that fucker! Psycho shouted, and the lazy men shambled to their guns. Taking cover, he let them fire, then rose and returned a volley of shots that hit their marks and caused them to crumple. Frank approached Psycho, who was reaching for a gun. Frank shot the gun as it was produced, then fired a second shot to his head that should have finished him. However, the skull mask seemed to be made of metal, and the bullet did not penetrate. Better luck next time, Punisher! Psycho shouted as he reached for the gun. Frank adjusted his aim and fired a shot into his heart before kicking him off of the roof. The satisfying crunch of bone on pavement ensured that Psycho would never trouble innocent people again. Frank took the elevator down and left the building. Once back in his car, he drove to his apartment complex. He made a beeline straight for his apartment and shut the door behind him before locking it. He placed the shotgun on the table and the pistols back in their place in his armory. Opening a fresh box of shotgun ammo, he began to reload the shotgun. That ought to send the punks a message.