2|That's not at all scary!

The one thing that Emily hated, besides cats, was writers block. She would find herself staring at her laptop screen all night. While others would give up; she wouldn't give in so easily.

So here she was standing in her kitchen waiting for her coffee to finish brewing. Emily had decided to make a whole pot, seeing as she didn't see sleep coming anytime soon. This routine was normal which surprised some people. The Blogger wanted

to so badly write articles on important events, and get great stories to tell. She would be found lost in thought, daydreaming how it would be like to be a journalist. Where she would be noticed, very few know who she was and if they did, they didn't
/show it.

Emily drummed her fingers on her laminate countertops, her eyes caught themselves on her reflection in the coffee pot. The bags under her eyes were getting noticeable and harder to hide. Her blue eyes weren't as bright, due to the lack of sleep,

her light brown hair pulled into a messy bun. The coffee machine beeped, which meant the coffee was ready. Rising to the tips of her toes she grabbed an old ceramic glazed coffee mug from the cabinet above her. Half way from the bottom the mug

/was painted pink. To some the coffee mug just looked like something out of a thrift shop.

But it was more of a sentimental value.

The person who had given it to her was long gone, and was never coming back. How did she know this?

Because that person was dead.

The precipitous sound of the door unlocking brought her back to reality. She grabbed her signature bat from two nights ago. As soon as the trespasser came into view, she pummels the guy right in the gut. The attack caused the man to wheeze in shock.

"Emily?" The man painfully gasped. "Do you even play baseball?"

Emily, realizing it was Frank, smiled amusingly. "Well, I did say I wouldn't hesitate last time." The little light that shined through the fire escape window, caught on a small object in his hand. Her eyes growing wide as tennis balls. She ripped

it from his hand.

Emily scoffed, "So you had a key made? That is not at all scary."

The Blogger caught him rolling his dark brown eyes.

"Calm down," he says, an arm slowly comes from behind his back. In a slight defensive way, his narrow eyes locked on the bat like she was going to try and hit him again. Emily detected this and set it aside.

She becomes unable to move as her gaze falls onto a small clear plastic container. The familiar floral sticker with the words Judy's Bakery stuck on top of it. A smile had crawled it's way on her face, Frank had made a trip to her favorite
/bakery, which he only did when he wanted to apologize. He'd never say it, he'd say it through actions.

In the container held a fluffy and soft slice of lemon cake. Her most favored treat she'd prefer out of every junk food there was. She went to grab for it when she paused abruptly. She blew out her cheeks, and placed her hands on her hips.

"You're not trying to bribe me are you?" She questions a frown forming. "I'm not going to have to owe you a favor, like help you if you show up bloodied again?"

Frank raises an eyebrow, runs his free hand through his brown hair that was shaved at the sides. He starts to retract the dessert, by this point she notices what he's doing.

He's taunting her, trying to get her to forgive him.

Seemingly in a playful sort of way.

"Hey! I never said I wouldn't take it!" Emily stated loudly. She took hold of the cake in her hands, then sauntered over to her kitchen, and opens a drawer, pulling out two forks. She walks towards Frank with dragging feet, a noticeable glint of sadness
/in her eyes.

"Did I hurt your wound from a few nights ago?" Emily asked. Her stare flickering between the area of his injury and his slightly still bruised face. His spilt lip slightly scabbed over.

"You're fine, I should've expected you to hold up to your word."

She smiles weakly and for the first time in a while, the two sit together on the recliner listening to the sound of the city. Enjoying the moment, as they never did this often. She closes her eyes in thought.

'This is what happens when Frank Castle is your neighbor.'


The next morning didn't exactly go as intended. She'd woken up on her couch a blanket bundled around her. Emily moves slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The young woman checked her phone with heavy eyes.

Two missed calls

The missed calls being from her older sister by two years, Rachel. Rachel worked as a night shift nurse at Metro-General Hospital. They had decided to go out to lunch that afternoon. Emily had mistakenly slept longer then she should've

and their get together was at one o'clock.

It was one thirty.

Her sister was going to kill her.

She runs panicked hands through her hair, that had fallen from its bun. Racing around the apartment, she slipped into a pair of blue jeans, and a red flannel with a black tank top underneath.

Emily was out the door with a to go cup of coffee, and sending a quick text to her sister.


The guilty filled blogger had rushed down the crowded streets of Hell's Kitchen. Emily being absentminded of where she was going, her phone having her attention seeing as she was notifying her sister that she was almost there. It was unanticipated
/when she barreled into something, more like someone.

She let out a stunned sound, as her coffee overturned in her hand and spilled down her shirt. The scorching drink stung against her skin.

"My apologies, miss." A male's voice says in an off guarded tone. She looked up to see a nicely dressed man, dress shirt and tie. He had long blonde locks that were brushed back.

She chuckled, "No worries it was my fault, wasn't paying attention." Her eyes zone in on a stain on his shirt, no doubt her coffee. "Your shirt-"

He motioned to her shirt, an amused smile dancing on his face. "I think yours got the worst."

She looks down to discover that he wasn't wrong. Her shirt was completely soaked.

She smiles in a reassuring way, "Too bad, doesn't matter I was going to throw it out anyway."

"If you want I could buy you a coffee."

"There's no need for that, but tell you what I'm feeling nice, so when you're free give me a call and I'll buy youa coffee."

"Sounds good to me, what do you think Matt? You approve?"

Emily had just noticed another person in their company. He held a walking stick and wore dark, round glasses. His short black hair also brushed back.

"I think you got yourself a deal," Matt chuckled, he held out his hand for her to shake. She accepted the gesture grabbing his calloused hand. She then jotted down her number and gave it to the still unnamed man.

"The name is Emily by the way. Emily Andrews." She introduced herself.

The man seems to be taken a back once again. "You mean, as the blogger?"

"Who's asking?" She laughs, "Yeah, I'm surprised you knew my name not many do or care."

"Your work is unique, the name is Foggy Nelson."

"Thanks, wait your the two that helped with Wilson Fisk then?"

"Correct."

Before she could say anymore, her phone buzzed with messages from an upset sibling.

"Sorry, I have to cut the chit chat short, have an angry older sister, who's ready to rip my head off, if I'm even more late then I already am." She informs. "See you around?"

"See you around."

She then waves good bye and proceeds on her way to her destination.


Emily finally reaches the nice, small cafe. The sound of chatter fills her ears as she walks in. She catches the sight of the familiar mop of red hair. She rushed to her table and plopped down in a chair.

Rachel's deep green eyes look at her, with an eyebrow raised.

She points a finger at her shirt which is still damp. "What happened?"

"Oh funny story, ran into a guy-"

"Wait? A guy was he hot?"

"Rach!" She exclaimed. "I'm not going to answer that. Anyways, I literally ran into him spilling my coffee all over me. Met his friend who was with him. The two happened to be lawyers. I'm probably going to met one of them for coffee."

"Interesting," She smiles, "My curiosity has killed my appetite. How's Frank doing?"

How was he doing? She never asked how he was when he'd came over last night. He was probably the one who wrapped her in the blanket. She didn't feel like it was right to ask if he was okay.

After everything he'd been through, of course he wasn't okay.

"I don't think so Rach," She said, resting her chin in her hand. "Three nights ago he showed up bloodied and bruised. I'm worried, that he'll get severely hurt, and I won't know."

Rachel's eyes widen at the sudden news, shocked at how Frank could do such a thing. She wanted to scold the retired soldier about worrying her sister.

"I'm sure he'll get better, Em." Rachel states, her eyes saddened.

Emily presses her lips into a thin line, "How can you be so sure? When my friend starts getting into dangerous shit, it gives me the vibe that he's suicidal. Like he's putting his life on the line on purpose."

"Just keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Yeah, I'll do that."

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"It's about him."

"About who?"

"Jacob."

"What about him?"

"They released him from prison."

"What?"

Emily didn't know what to say, all she could do was tune out everyoneas she tried to get rid of that one person out of her thoughts.


Emily walked beside her older sibling who was now decked down in her nurses uniform. Rachel had actually gotten a bit teared up after a wife explained that her husband protected her in a bar where a fight had broken out. She'd listened to the whole
/thing as well, and she would be lying if she said she didn't tear up.

Emily was no longer in a coffee stained shirt, her sister had chucked an extra shirt at her when they'd made a trip to the locker room so Rachel could change.

So here she was the younger sibling stalking the halls, along with her sister who was making her runs.

She'd been following her around the whole day, and it's safe to say the oldest was busy; she didn't want Emily breathing down her neck.

"Do me a favor, check on that Steve guy, who got wounded in that bar fight." She says, Emily nods frantically, relieved to do something more, then just follow Rachel around. Rachel tells the blogger the patients room number, and then scurries off

to assist other patients.

Emily makes it to the room without any trouble and finds the married couple in a sort of argument.

She knocks alerting the two that their not alone. "Hi. I was told by my sister to come and check on you."

Steve suddenly stiffens his eyes darting around the room. He was sitting up, fumbling around looking as if he'd seen a ghost.

"You a nurse?" The blonde asked.

"Oh no, medical field not my thing, I'm Emily Andrews, I'm more of a wr-"

"You mean the blogger? I have a friend whose show me a few of your writings."

"Funny, you're the second person who recognized my name."

Their conversation was interrupted as shouts of panicked civilians were heard from outside the room. The wife instructed the two to stay put. But, Steve was already making it his mission to get out of bed. Emily heard him faintly ranting about someone
/coming to finish the job.

Emily wraps her arms around herself, her voice shaking, "What's going on?"

The two didn't answer, but the look on the blonde's face told whatever was happening wasn't a laughing matter.

"Lets go!" The woman shouts, snatching Steve by his hospital gown, she looks at Emily, and moves to grab her too, but the blogger shies away.

The woman's gaze softens a bit, "Emily I need you to trust me, my name is Karen, come with us."

She looks at Karen, their blue eyes filled with the same fear. She nods, every part of her body trembling. The three rush from the room, running as fast as they could. Heart pounding, Emily sends a glance behind to see a figure holding a gun, pointing
/it in the there's direction. She never got the chance to see his face, but noticed how the man faltered for a moment.

As if the sight of one of them, surprised him.

A hand grabbing her arm, and hanging her toward them, dragged her out of thought. A bullet suddenly collided directly where Steve would've been. But, if Emily hadn't been pulled out of the way it would've pierced through her shoulder.

The three make it to the emergency exit. Before they ran out it, Karen presses the fire alarm. The alarm ringing throughout the building. The gun man follows them but they have already made it through the stairwell and into the dark night of Hell's
/Kitchen. Emily finds herself following them towards an car that seemingly belonged to Karen.

Karen panicked as she fumbled around looking for the car keys.

"Do you ever have the right keys?!" Steve shouted at her impatiently.

"Shut up! Shut up!" A distressed Karen demanded.

"Is this even your car?"

"It belonged to a friend."

"Where's he?" Emily asked, watching as Karen finally unlocked the car.

"He's dead."

"Oh."

That's all that is said, as they scrambled in the car, Steve in the front, while Emily sat with hunched shoulders in the back.

As they speeded down the road, Karen and Emily screamed as a bullet shot off a review mirror. Em, puts her hands over her head and helps as the window behind her shatters, the gunshot missing her.

Then as they drove farther the incoming shots ceased. But, they still had a feeling it would start again.

As Emily finally finds herself able to speak she asks, "You guys aren't married are you?"


Hoped you enjoyed! Sorry for the wait! Until next time! Leave your thoughts on who you think Jacob is?