Pre-Daredevil, during Captain America: Winter Soldier

Afghanistan, April 2nd-3rd, 2015

"Castle, we need to get out of here!" Ray Schoonover, United States Marine Corps Major, screamed in Frank Castle's ear as bullets were flying. The plan was to drop behind enemy lines, wait for the other battalion to begin shooting, and then they'd attack. It was the perfect plan, the Taliban couldn't possibly fight a battle on two fronts. Unfortunately, the Taliban caught wind, and they focused their assault on Lieutenant Castle's team, pinning them down behind the lines. Now, all the marine was focused on was helping his team get out alive.

"Major, we're pinned down! There's no way we can make it!" Castle yelled back, ducking as another Taliban began firing randomly with his assault weapon. The rifle was a modified AR-15, possibly sold to Middle Eastern countries by none other than Justin Hammer. After that whole disaster at the Stark Expo, Castle thought Hammer Industries was done for. However, when the Taliban continued firing, he realized he thought wrong. The battalion's Colonel, a man named Eric Smith, suddenly got up to try to signal someone on the radio.

"We need help over here! There's men pinned-" but before Smith could finish, he screamed in pain, falling to the ground. Castle crawled to Smith, turning his body over to reveal that his right arm was completely blown off.

"Fuck!" Castle yelled. "Major, we need air support!"

"Copy that, Lieutenant." Schoonover said. "But they can't spare a single damn plane right now!"

Please, if there is a god, let me get these men out. Castle silently prayed. Suddenly, he felt as if he was granted a great power that made him invulnerable. Using this strength, Frank grabbed an assault rifle, stood up, and began mowing down any Taliban. Castle fired, stabbed, and even punched his way through many enemy soldiers, until finally, there was none left.

"Jesus Christ." Schoonover said, overlooking the pile of corpses in his wake. Castle led the men out, and they left Afghanistan via Blackhawk.

When they arrived back on American soil, Ray Schoonover, now promoted to Colonel, granted Castle honorable discharge to go home to his wife and kids.

York Central School, April 3rd, 2015

Frank took a long, deep breath. It'd only been a day since I got home, and he wanted to visit his daughter, who was at school. Now, he stood outside her classroom as they were doing a type of yoga. Without another thought, Castle opened the door, and the rest of the class looked up at him.

"Look, an army man!"

"You're the worst!"

"You're mean for killing people!"

But Castle paid no attention to the screaming children, and scanned the room for his daughter. There, on the other side, was his child, Lisa. In an instant, she crossed the length of the room, and wrapped her arms around her father. Taken aback so far he could've sworn she busted a rib, Frank hugged his daughter back, and even with the kids screaming at them and the teacher filming the scene to post on the Internet, Frank was crying, but to his surprise, Lisa wasn't. She was actually holding him up, making sure Frank was still standing. And through all the noise, he could only hear his daughter's voice.

"I knew it daddy." Lisa whispered. "I knew it."

Frank and Lisa arrived home, and were greeted by his wife and son, Maria Frank Jr.

"Frank!" Maria said, hugging him almost as tight as Lisa did earlier that day. "Everyone said you'd died, but I knew you'd come home!"

"Daddy!" Frank Jr exclaimed, jumping up and down. Frank reached down and hugged his son, beginning to cry again. After holding each other for what seemed like hours, Frank let go, realizing that for the first time since he got back from Afghanistan, he felt tired.

"Honey, I'm going to get some rest." Frank said, kissing his wife and began to head upstairs.

"Daddy, I want you to tuck me in!" Lisa exclaimed. Frank turned around, and carrying his daughter to bed, tucked her in. He then noticed a book, the title read One Batch, Two Batch, Penny and Dime.

"Will you read it to me?" Lisa asked.

"No, Lisa." Frank said quietly. "Daddy's tired."

"But daddy!" Lisa said. "You're supposed to read me the bedtime story! You always do that!"

"I'm sorry sweetie, but I'm tired." Frank replied. "I'll read it to you tomorrow, I promise." Frank then kissed his daughter, son, and wife goodnight, and headed upstairs, exhausted over the past few days.

Central Park, April 4th, 2015

The next day, Frank tried to make up to his family by taking them out to the park. After years of not being with his family, Castle wanted to spend every waking moment with them. As he watched his children play with their kites, Frank sat on a bench with his wife near the carousel.

"I'm glad your back." Maria said, kissing Frank.

"Me too." Frank replied when they broke off. Suddenly, Frank looked over the park, noticing that three large groups of men were approaching.

"What the Hell?" Frank asked, beginning to stand up. He inched closer to the groups, noticing an insignia on a biker's jacket. The symbol was a large dog's head, with fangs twisted into a cruel smile.

"Oh, shit." Frank said, as he realized who was there.

"What's wrong?" Maria asked, moving towards Frank.

"That's the Dogs of Hell!" Frank said, realizing what was going on. "And those are the Kitchen Irish and the Cartel!"

"Then what's going on?" Maria asked, worried.

"Must be a drug trade. We need to get out of here." Frank announced, moving towards his kids. And then, bullets started flying, all three gangs opened fire on each other.

Five minutes earlier

Dutton arrived at the site of the trade, Central Park. His employer, nicknamed the Blacksmith, instructed him to be there, and organize the three gangs in Hell's Kitchen. It was said that the Blacksmith had a huge stash of pure heroin, rivaling that of that new Steel Serpent drug. Once Dutton got to the park, he saw that the three groups were already there.

"Where the fuck is the Blacksmith?" The leader of the Kitchen Irish, Nesbitt, asked.

"Patience, man, he'll be here." Dutton said.

"Well, he isn't, and we don't like waiting." Jimmy the Bear, from the Dogs of Hell, said matter of factly. Suddenly, he looked past Dutton, noticing several black cars.

"What the Hell?" Jimmy asked.

"Shit! It's the fucking pigs!" A member of the Mexican Cartel, Emil Rodriguez, said.

"You set this up, didn't you?!" Another member of the Irish, Smitty, accused Dutton, pulling out a gun.

"No, I swear, the Blacksmith was supposed to be here! You gotta believe me!" Dutton pleaded.

"Too late, cabron." Another member of the Cartel said, as all three gangs opened fire.

Now

Castle dove to the ground, his ears ringing from the gunfire and having memories of Afghanistan. For a brief moment, he saw his old Colonel, Ray Schoonover, yelling at him to take cover as the Taliban were shooting left and right. Shaking the flashbacks off, he crawled over to his children, trying to get shot. Maria attempted to make her way over as well, but one of the mobsters went up and shot her in head, point blank. Frank noticed this, but at the moment, focused on the children, who were in the middle of the crossfire.

"Daddy!" Lisa screamed, then stopped. Frank looked up, and his heart sank. He saw his daughter's kite fall, and as he crawled over, he saw his children fall to the ground as well. Frank turned his daughter over, and he what he saw horrified them. Blood and bits of flesh were falling out of Lisa's body, in the part where her face should have been. All that was left were bits of a skull, an eye, and bloodied hair. Frank held his daughter's body close to his, and began to cry.

"No." He whispered, wishing he could have saved his family. Suddenly, a shot rang out, and Castle fell over, a bullet penetrating the right side of his head.

Metro-General Hospital

"Bach, I'm placing you in his care." A nurse said to a man in the hospital's hallway. After the massacre at Central Park, an ambulance took Castle's body to the nearest hospital, seeing as Frank was still alive, but barely. He was all hooked up, and ready to be treated.

"Why can't you do it, Claire?" The man named Bach said.

"Because George, I'm up to my neck in this shit. I need you to help out here." Claire said, leaving to tend to other patients.

"Shit." Bach said, preparing to get the resuscitation paddles. Just then, a woman in a business outfit stepped in.

"Who the Hell are you?" Bach asked.

"My name is Samantha Reyes." The woman said, showing an ID. "And I've given a Do Not Resuscitate order on this man."

"You're giving a DNR?" Bach asked, baffled. "What gives you the right?"

"I am the District Attorney of Hell's Kitchen, and I'm placing the order." Reyes said. "Don't test me. I've already lost a case involving a woman snapping a man's neck earlier this year. I'm not in the mood." Reyes then left, as Frank suddenly flatlined, dead.

Frank, a voice said, deep in Frank's conscience. You're work is not yet done.

As Bach was about to move Castle's court, Frank's eyes snapped open, and grabbed the man by the throat.

"Ah, fuck!" Bach said, terrified.

"Who the Hell are you?" Frank said loudly.

"George Bach." George squeaked.

"Where am I?" Castle asked.

"Metro-General Hospital." And then, Castle's memory came back. He brought his family to Central Park, but they died in a gang war. His daughter… his wife… his son…

"Can you take me home?" Frank asked, his voice cracking and letting go of the man's throat.

"Mr. Castle, you got shot in the head-" Bach began gasping for air.

"Take me home." Frank growled, grabbing the man's shirt. Terrified, George agreed, and quickly left the hospital and drove Frank to his home. Frank exited the car, thanking Bach, and entered his house. Suddenly, Bach's phone rang.

"Hello?" George said.

"George Bach, you're fired from the Metro-General Hospital." Samantha Reye's voice said, then ended the call.

"Fuck." Bach simply said, before slamming his hands on the steering wheel in a fit of anger.

Castle entered his house, and simply walked around. He approached the piano, about to press down on a key, but stopped. He looked up at a picture of his old war buddies, remembering that behind the frame was a CD that would help him contact his friend, nicknamed Microchip. Frank sat down, contemplating what he would do next. Finally, he decided that he would kill every criminal, every mob in Hell's Kitchen, anyone who was part of the massacre of his family. But first, he would have to stock up on weapons and ammunition, and train for the coming days. As Castle started leaving his house, he realized that it could take months before he was even prepared to deal with the mobs, but he would have to be patient to ensure his vengeance.

Hell's Kitchen, October 23rd, 2015

Frank approached the darkened alley in Hell's Kitchen. After months of taking down small time muggers and crooks, Castle had finally gotten information on where one of the meetings for a small group of the Dogs of Hell would be held. As Frank hid behind a dumpster, he listened in on their conversation.

"What are we doing here, Smitty?" One of the bikers asked.

"We're here to carry out a weapons trade with the Kitchen Irish." Smitty replied, surveying the alley. Wanting to know more, Castle stepped out, in front of the Dogs.

"Who the Hell are you?" Smitty asked.

"Where's the Irish?" Frank asked, ignoring the question.

"Shit if we know." Smitty said, pulling out a gun. Frank, with lightning quick reflexes, pulled out an AK-47 and mowed down all the Dogs before they could react. He then approached Smitty, who was just shot in the arm. Tossing aside the AK for the moment, Frank took the shotgun off his shoulder, aiming it at Smitty.

"Don't shoot! We haven't done nothing to you!" Smitty cried out.

"Wrong." Frank said, cranking the pump on the shotgun. "April 4th, Central Park. The Dogs, the Irish, and the Cartel got into a three way shootout."

Smitty's eyes went wide, and his face pale. "We weren't trying to start a war." he stammered.

"But you were there, and because of you, my family's dead!" Frank yelled.

"Fuck you." Smitty muttered, spitting out blood.

"I said, where the fuck are the Kitchen Irish?!" Frank snarled, shoving the gun barrel in the man's face.

"They usually meet at the Burren Club, on the other side of Hell's Kitchen!" Smitty said, afraid.

"Thanks asshole." Frank said, before pulling the trigger, blowing Smitty's face clean off. Now he knew where the Irish were, it was time to take them down.

Burren Club, October 28th, 2015

Frank had tracked down where the Kitchen Irish were, at the Burren Club in Hell's Kitchen. While setting up an attack on the mob, Castle thought back to what transpired earlier that day.

One hour earlier

Frank walked up to the warehouse, supposedly housing the Mexican Cartel. After a day of listening to the police radio, Castle found out that the Cartel owned a warehouse in the meatpacking district, to use as a front to smuggle cocaine and marijuana. Frank silently opened the door, not wanting to reveal his presence just yet. Frank also decided to be quick, if he wanted to catch the Irish at the Club.

Castle moved through the warehouse, searching for members of the Cartel. Finally, he got to where slaughtered animals were hung up, and noticed there were only a small handful of men. Quickly, Frank pulled out his machine gun, and opened fire. The bullets ripped through the mobsters, but Frank made sure to only incapacitate them. Once all the members were down, he calmly walked up to the group, and heaving one of the men over his shoulders, stuck the gang member on a meat hook to die. As blood gushed out of the criminal's back, Frank did the same for the rest of the Cartel, stopping at their leader, Alejandro.

"Mierda, es el Diablo mismo!" Alejandro screamed, and Castle gripped him by the throat.

"For you, I might as well be." Frank growled, before shoving the gang leader onto a meat hook, leaving him to bleed to death. Frank then gathered his weapons, and left to head to the Burren's Club.

Now

Frank walked up to the club, noticing one guard outside.

"Hey, man, you can't be here. Piss off!" The mobster said. Frank simply walked up, covered the man's mouth so he couldn't scream, and stabbed the man in the heart. As the Irish criminal bled out, Castle returned to the window, lifting up his assault rifle. He had gotten armor piercing rounds, in case the Irish were packing some heavy resistance. While loading the rifle, Frank listened in on the conversation inside the building.

"Piss on em all!" Their leader, Nesbitt, yelled. "Cause this is our time! Anyone who crosses us, we'll paint the streets with their blood. And when they're gone, we'll make your father proud, and purge ourselves of the filthy traitors who betrayed their own kind!"

Castle heard enough, and set himself up for the kill. Before he pulled the trigger, however, Frank repeated the rhyme from the book he always read to his daughter before she died.

"One batch, two batch." Castle whispered, squeezing the trigger. "Penny and dime."