Ha been out of it a while but, as I promised here is my newest fanfic to be read.

Disclaimer: The Punisher and all related characters are copyright of Marvel Comics. I have no rights to them.

Thanks to Exiled-Knight for editing the chapter.

Frank Castle, a.k.a. The Punisher stuck the cold steel of the long barreled .45 in his mouth. The cold steel sliding through his parted lips. What was there left to do? He had been in the business too long. What no knife, gun, or club could do; time did:

DEFEAT THE PUNISHER

The End of The Punisher?

Frank's still muscular hand clutched the arm of his moth eaten, green easy chair; the tendons sticking out of his weathered skin on his forearm as he did so. Then the shit hit the fan, so to say, or maybe things just became normal for Frank Castle. In front of him stood his assistant in the "business" x amount of years ago.

Micro had supplied ammo, weapons, and battle plans for The Punisher; bringing up his effectiveness in killing off gang and mafia members. Unfortunately, Micro had a change of heart and left, joined the C.I.A, became a regular prick, got money from a heroine chain, wanted Frank to help him with his war on the bad guys with the government. Frank told him where to stick it all right; the only problem is twenty years dead—got his head blown off by the business end of Frank's shotgun some fifteen…twenty years ago.

Now in the run down apartment—where dust covered just about everything and holes had been torn into all the furniture—stood the ghostly image of Micro come to haunt Frank at his time of wearing down.

Frank pulled the gun out of his mouth raising a gray, bushy eyebrow as the ghostly visage of Micro stood in front of him.

"Fuck of," Frank said, hardly recognizing his underused low croak of a voice.

"You know I can't do that," the distant echo of Micro's voice rang in Frank's ears.

"Fuck you," Frank replied aiming the six shot .45 at the image and firing a shot, his arm shooting back with the recoil. The bullet passed through the image causing it to disappear about the same time the bullet hit a wall and lodged itself into it.

"You already killed me Frank," Micro's disembodied voice stated. "Don't you remember?"

"I never forget," Frank said in his gruff voice, coughing once as he said that. It felt as if someone had stuck glass in his lungs every time he coughed. Suddenly Frank became aware of someone standing behind him. He turned around to see Micro's headless corpse.

"So they say," his corpse said, its torn vocal chords vibrating with each meaty word. "But you try. Oh how you try."

Author's notes:
End of chapter one 1. Hope you all like it. I'll put up a new one when I get some more reviews. I'm sorry it was so short, but what can you do? Don't answer that.