Victor Von Doom
Fist of teh Internets.
- Oct 19, 2005
- On The Edge
I pull my lighter out of my left cargo pocket and flick it open. A slight breeze blows thru the room and I watch as the flame does a little dance against the wind. I raise the lighter closer to the cigarette pressed firmly between my lips. I stop short of lighting the end and turn to the man in the corner. I take a deep breath and say to him, “It doesn’t have to go down like this, ya know?” “Screw you guy!” he replies. I roll my eyes in disappointment and stare into the dim bulb hanging from the ceiling. “They always go for door#2…” I think to myself. I shrug my shoulders and finish lighting my cigarette.
I grab the cart with my equipment and roll it over along side the man in the corner. As my footsteps echo in the dark and the wheels of the cart thunder thru the dark room every time they roll over a crack in the tile, the man frantically struggles to free himself from his shackles. I think reality just hit him. Bet he wishes he picked door#1. I stop the cart just at the edge of the light circle above us. The room is completely black…except where we’re standing. I remove his blindfold and his first sight is a gleaming star of light on my blade reflected from the lightbulb above. A black man at 6’3” and 255 lbs of muscle…I’m a pretty imposing person. Not exactly the kinda guy you wanna meet in a dark alley. Combine that with my years as a NAVY SEAL assassin and special ops commander and you got a guy you wouldn’t wanna meet on a bad day period. Throw in the fact that when I step in a room…within the first 30 seconds I’ve figured out 6 different ways to kill each person in the room and 4 alternate escape routes and you’ve got a guy most don’t wanna meet period. Time for the fun to begin…
“Where is Anthony Ramos hiding?” I ask. He stammers some kind of response but I can’t make out what he said. “Let me ask you again…where is Anthony Ramos hiding?” Again he babbles out an answer but it’s all incoherent noise to me. I crack my neck and step out into the light. Deep, thick pools of shadowy darkness cover my eyes…a menacing sight to behold…or so I’m told. I bring my blade fully into light and show him its intricate details. “I’m gonna ask you again—but if I don’t get an answer I can understand…this blade goes in you. Nod if you understand.” He nods. “So Hector…where is Anthony Ramos hiding?” I ask. “I-I-I-I think he’s holed up in the old factory downtown…” he replies. “You think Hector or you know?” I question. “Please sir…I-I-I-I don’t know Anthony’s details. I’m j-j-j-just a lowly errand b-b-b-boy.” I take a deep breath and sigh. “Why can’t they ever make it easy on themselves?” I think to myself.
Hector’s screams fill the room. If his screams were light…I’d need shades. But they’re not…so I drown them out. Soon it’s completely silent. I see his mouth move with pain each time I slide the blade in him around, but I hear nothing. I’m in my zone. I hear nothing. It’s my gift…and sometimes my curse. I’m a totally sane man lacking some of the basic concepts of decency, morality, and humanity that separates me from other humans and allows me to do this kinda dirty work. My mind drifts in the midst of all the screaming and the scene of blood. I come back to focus and the screaming is now blaring in my ear. I step back to wipe the blood off my blade. I look down and notice that the guy’s losing a lot of blood. I’m not really sure if he’ll make it thru this session. My mind races with thoughts of what I can do to him without fatally jeopardizing his health. I soon snap out of it. I got a job to do and a lot of innocent people depend on this information I need to get.
I step back away from the prisoner and into thin air I ask “November Foxtrot…this is S.H.I.E.L.D Special Agent Castle. Permission to obtain the required info via extenuating situational questioning?” The silence is deafening. I stand in the dark and await further orders. I hate all the bureaucracy involved with time-sensitive matters. Then the loud speaker erupts with “Ok…Agent Castle. Do what you have to do.” I smile. I straighten the smile on my face and put my game face back on. Show no mercy to the bad guys. I step back into the light and light up another cigarette. I take a puff and blow the smoke into Hector’s face.
“Hector…I know you’re more than an errand boy. You’re a lieutenant in his organization. You’re privy to a lot of key information…including the info of Anthony’s whereabouts. Now I know you can take more than this itsy-bitsy flesh wound I’ve carved into your side…so I’m gonna ask you again—but before I do…I wanna let you in on what’s next if I don’t like what I hear. First…I’m gonna smack each and every single toe you have on your left foot with a ball-pin hammer. Then, I’m gonna turn my attention to your right foot. I’m gonna cut each one of those little piggies off and dip your bleeding feet into a bucket of gasoline. Fun times, eh? Keep in mind that the pain and sadistic acts will only increase as time goes on. So it’s in your best interest to tell me the truth…and fast. So……………………where’s Anthony Ramos hiding out at?”
Hector spits in my face. I smirk and think to myself “It’s obvious that he won’t talk………no time soon anyways. In the end…they all talk. One way or another…they all talk.” I wipe the spit from my face and he spits in my face again. “I ain’t talking to you blackie!” he scoffs. Sometimes…I love my job.
So this is my stand alone intro. It doesn't really tie in with any of the future issues I plan on writing.....just introducing my own "ULTIMATE" version of the Punisher. I'd love to actually hear some critiques this time.