Frank Castle (the__punisher) wrote in almost_paradise, @ 2013-02-16 20:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | frank castle - the punisher, harley quinn - batman |
What the hell is that smell? (Tag Harley)
The old dream again... Maria: smiling, talking about nothing. It was Frank's greatest fantasy and The Punisher's darkest nightmare. A single happy moment, the last one of his life. Next the gunfire would start: but like some lucky nights daylight saved him.
The glow of dawn seeped into his closed eyelids stirring consciousness. Something wasn't quite right. The bed was...soft. Not 2 pallets with a pile of army blankets, it was a bed. There was a warm breeze and it was winter in New York. Tropical birds sang and the smell of the ocean??!! "What the hell is that smell?" his mind screamed as the Punisher woke tumbling from a feather bed. Gone was the familiar rust, motor oil, and Cordite.
He scanned the room. Someone needed to explain this to him. His van, his dog, and his warehouse had turned into some version of a resort. There were glasses wrapped for his convenience. Little pink bath gels, a fucking gift basket with his name on it.. and no guns. At least his clothes were in the closet. "Who the hell dry cleaned my trench coat?"
The Punisher took stock of the room, growing less gentle with the decor. It seemed too clean, too normal too perfect. Frank toppled the contents of the gift basket onto the bed.
Soap (tossed), a map, (pocketed), various useless sundries (trashed), and 2 items that kept the room from getting completely destroyed. A familiar leash and a valet ticket.
Donning the coat, Frank emerged from the room. Scanning the hallway: elevator 3 steps left, stairs 5 steps right. The stairs then.
A maid pushed a cart down the hallway, eying the new guest departing. "Fresh towels sir?"
Frank spun reaching soft cover in the doorway. "No." he managed. "Do not disturb" Frank growled. He was plenty disturbed enough already, and vaulted down the stairs headed for the lobby.