the next in the marvel shit-post series ft. ideas from my best friend (content warning for minor gore, guns and violence)
A small crime group is gathered in a desolate warehouse where they have been bunked, laying low for a while. Some sleep, some play cards, the rest are on lookout. Their momentary piece is shattered at the same moment a window is, blanketing the floor with shards of glass, followed by the body of the man closest to the window. A bullet hole is clearly visible in the centre of his forehead. The entire room erupts into chaos.
“FUCK! FUCK!”
“WE’RE BEING SHOT AT!”
“WHO THE FUCK KNEW WE WERE HERE?!”
Bullets from an unseen gun continue to pick off members of the group through the window. Eventually, not a single one remains standing. As the last one goes down, Frank Castle discards his now empty magazine in the building opposite and adjusts his hideously garish sunglasses. As he surveys the dead quiet room (pun fully intended), he takes another pair of equally ugly sunglasses from his gun bag, cleans them solemnly on his shirt and places them on his head backwards. As he does so, he nods and says gruffly,
“Nice”
