The Punisher - Part: 2

Vaccaro backed up until he hit the parapet. Twelve stories down, the rain-slick street glittered like a vein of lead. “You’ll never get them all without me. I’m the key, Castle. I’m the lock and the key.”

The rain kept falling. It didn’t wash anything clean. But Frank Castle had stopped believing in clean a long time ago. The Punisher - Part 2

“My son,” Frank said quietly. “He was twelve. He liked to draw. Dinosaurs, mostly. You know what he drew the week before he died? A picture of our family. Holding hands outside a house with a sun in the corner.” Vaccaro backed up until he hit the parapet

The rain over Hell’s Kitchen had not stopped for three days. It fell in grimy sheets, washing nothing clean. washing nothing clean.