CHAPTER 3 - I MISSED THE FUCKING FERRY
Audio - GosT - "Behemoth"
Frank spun into the Ferry parking lot as fast as he humanly could without dying of sheer G-Force. Slamming directly into a street lamp, he unbuckled himself to prepare his dramatic exit. As the lamp careened toward the windshield, The Punisher managed to check on the time. 12:43, Frank mused to himself. Great Hera! The huge boat used for hauling cars and living beings across vast stretches of water must have left by now goddamit! This wasn't surprising. Frank's perception of time has always been somewhat skewed. With that, Frank leapt from the Punisher Van right before the lamp reached critical mass and demolished the somewhat fragile windshield. Mr. Castle had to get moving fast if he wanted to catch the boat. He opened up the back of his hatewagon and retrieved a syrian refugee's Wal-Mart purchase worth of items. Reagan and Bush? Check. AR-15? Check. Water Skis? Check. Sunscreen? Check. Backpack? Check. Rocket Launcher? KACHECKA GODDAMIT! It was time. "Fuck time!", Frank screamed, bull charging in the direction of the dock.
Frank Castle pulled a pair of Speedo Women's Vanquisher 2.0 Mirrored Goggles over his eyes as he leaned down for maximum aerodynamic potential. No time could be wasted. He needed to escape this hellscape as fast as possible. Frank frog leaped into the air, landing with his feet firmly planted in his water skis. Directly before hitting the cold murky water, Castle whipped out his backpack in anticipation. The ferry was making considerable distance. No matter how amazingly ripped Frank Castle was, it would be difficult to match the speed of a beautiful american made craft. He had to act fast.
Reaching into his bag, Frank pulled out his rocket launcher and a large roll of electrical tape and expired peanut butter. Removing the lid of the peanut butter, The Punisher prepared his combat knife for action. He now dipped the blade into the oily thick substance. Frank savagely spread the contents of the jar over the rim of the rocket launcher, forming a solid ledge. Next, Frank stretched the tape around this ring of peanut butter to create a protective seal. Without saying a word, he attached the rocket launcher to his back with the firing end facing the pale gray sky. That boat was as good as his. Frank spread his legs apart, allowing the brisk breeze to carry him forward ever so subtly. The Punisher slowly brought his hand to his back, seating his finger upon the trigger of the enormous weapon. Frank squeezed down on the quite stiff trigger.
With an enormous blast the rocket exploded out toward the edge of the chamber. Instead of firing outward, the missile caught the seal of peanut butter and dense tape. After extreme resistance, the rocket continued to propel itself forward, taking Frank with it. The Punisher blasted forward at mach 2 from the immense force of the homemade engine. This is EXACTLY what he expected. Frank spread his legs out slightly to adjust to the newfound Sonic the Hedgehog-esque speed. In the distance he could faintly see the ferry approaching.
He was going too fast. He was going WAY too fucking fast to not die instantly. Thankfully, Frank's conservative instincts lead him to formulate a great plan. Castle reached back toward the direction of his back and pulled a string, releasing an enormous "Blue Lives Matter" themed parachute behind him. This instantly started slowing Frank down. Unfortunately, he's still a tad thick in the head and didn't think of the logistics of having an enormous weapon strapped to his back. The parachute instantly caught on fire. "OH GOD OOHH SHIT PLEASE SHIT NO IT'S ON FIRE OH GOD SOMEBODY HELP ME OUT HERE MY PARACHUTE IS ON FIRE I NEED HELP PUTTING THIS OUT I NEED SOME WATER DOES ANYBODY HAVE ANY WATER FOR ME TO POUR ON MY FLAMING BULGING PARACHUTE ANYBODY PLEASE?", Frank Castle whisper yelled out to a vacant God. A stroke of Republican common sense dawned on him when he realized he could just cut the pack off himself. Struggling violently, Frank got a hold of his combat knife once more whilst bending forward as much as humanly possible. The knife dug firmly into the backpack straps and with a meaty *SNAP* the bag flung itself from the American black clad guardian's back.
The flaming deathbag shot forward at a speed nearly incomprehensible. The Punisher stared onward with idiotic confusion as the horrid projectile speared the back of the target ferry. Not one second later, a blast of searing heat creates radiant light upon Frank's face. Fuck. The boat is gone.
Not only is the boat completely gone, but all 2,100 occupants were too.
Frank not only has committed an act of domestic terror at Waffle House, but now he's slaughtered the entirety of a massive ship. The natural reaction would be to mourn the deaths of the many who have just died in a horrific accident, but yeah, Frank's a little brainfucked so Frank's just gonna do Frank. The Punisher headed directly for the flaming shipwreck gradually sinking into the murky depths. Bobbing and weaving around corpses and discarded chunks of metal, Frank honed all of his hand-eye coordination to stay alive on his skis. Passing a cluster of humans (some of which still alive and struggling), Castle headed directly for a giant shard of debris. His form tightened. His eyes slanted. With a defined grunt, The Punisher launched himself off of the ramplike garbage as if he was playing a Stunt Mode race in Wave Race 64. Now that the wreckage was cleared, there was nothing between him and Gotham but the salty shitriver and his own growing moral demons.