Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. It has no intentions of resembling any real persons dead or alive. This is entirely from my imagination, with a little help from already established sources. This story is based loosely on the comic book character "The Punisher" from Marvel comics; however, the characters actual history and background are my own. It is in name only that he resembles the character.
Punisher and all related characters copyright Marvel Comics.
Blade and all related characters copyright Marvel Comics.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel copyright Joss Whedon, United Paramount Network and Warner Bros. Respectively.
Mutants and all related characters and ideas copyright Marvel Comics.
I have written another story on nifty entitled "Tales of a Real Dark Knight". It is in the Celebrity/Boy Bands section. Batman may appear in this story once or twice, as the Punisher may appear in "Tales of a Real Dark Knight". New sections may be posted a week to two weeks in between as it is difficult to keep two stories going at a time. Any comments may be sent to jmsotc1@yahoo.com
Thank you and enjoy.
Chapter 1 New Calling
Michael Weatherby stepped off the plane along with his fellow officers of the Marine Corps. The rain fell softly from the passing storm. He gathered his bags and headed off to his barracks. As he unpacked his uniforms, several of the other marines entered.
"Did you see the way Eddy shot? God, it was so obvious he's gay!" Morrison, the loudest of the battalion remarked. "I thought homos weren't allowed in the military."
"It's that stupid don't ask, don't tell policy. I guess the fucking faggots are allowed to serve the U.S. of A."
"I hope none of them try any of their shit with me," Morrison replied. "I'll have to kick some faggot ass."
The group laughed, then went to their cots and unpacked. Morrison walked up to Weatherby. "Hey, awesome sniper action out there, Mike."
"Thanks, Tony."
"You're welcome. Did you see the way Eddy fired his weapon? Man, they will let anyone hold a gun."
"He didn't do to bad. He still needs to practice and learn how to shoot under pressure. We can all improve."
"He didn't do bad for a homo. He might be a little weak in the wrist to hold on to that big of a gun." Morrison turned so everyone could hear. "Maybe we should let him get used to holding big guns by letting him hold on to our cocks, eh, guys?!"
Everyone laughed. None of them realized that Michael Weatherby was gay.
"So what do you think?" Morrison said to Weatherby. "Want to let the little prick suck on your cock, too?"
Weatherby turned quick and punched Morrison. Morrison toppled over the cot and landed on the floor.
"What the fuck was that for?" Morrison asked. "You hit me, you prick! What are you, a faggot lover?"
"Maybe he's a homo, too," someone shouted.
Weatherby turned and threw them all a dirty look. "It's none of your damn business who Eddy bones or who I bone."
"I think you're a homo, too," Morrison said walking around the cot. "And you know what homos deserve."
Several of the officers moved closer to Weatherby. Weatherby knew what they were up to. He's seen them do this before to other officers who had a difficult time in their battalion. He, however, did not have a hard time. He kept up with the physical activity and exercise. He knew how to handle weapons. All the fight training the military offered he learned, as well as the martial arts training he was able to pick up on his tours of duty. He was a master of his own hard, chiseled body.
Morrison made a grab for him. Weatherby turned, grabbed Morrison by the back of the neck and rammed Morrison headfirst into the metal wardrobe. The door dented with the impact.
Weatherby rolled over the back of Morrison and kicked the person on the other side of the cot. The officer flew into the wall hard.
Anderson threw a punch at Weatherby. Weatherby grabbed Anderson's wrist and rolled along the length of Anderson's arm. He grabbed Anderson around the neck and brought his arm back snapping it.
"Aaaagggggghhhh!" Anderson cried out.
Weatherby released him and swung his leg up, kicking a fourth Marine in the face. The officer's head jerked but he stood his ground. Weatherby stood in a defensive position.
"What in the hell are you doing, Weatherby? You are the best among us. Why did you go faggot on us all of a sudden?"
"It wasn't all of the sudden, Beal. I've always been like this. I thought if I joined the Marines I could change. It didn't work."
"Then why try to be a man?"
Weatherby jumped in the air. He kicked Beal in the chest and continued kicking Beal, as if walking up him. His last kick hit Beal in the face. Weatherby flipped over and landed in the spot he began. Beal fell to the ground unconscious.
"I am a man," Weatherby said. He walked out of the barracks.
Three days later Weatherby stood in his Marine dress blues before a Court Martial. No one was there to represent him. He didn't want anyone to. The gavel fell and the court martial began.
"Captain Michael Weatherby, you are charged with assaulting your fellow battalion. Such behavior is not acceptable. It is a criminal offense. Furthermore, they charge you with sexual immorality unbecoming of a Marine Officer. Have you words for these accusations?"
Weatherby nodded. "They were going to sexually assault me, sirs. I had no choice but to defend myself. As to the sexual immorality charge, I have not done a single thing to anyone."
"That is not what is being accused of you, Captain. You would do well to understand the charges brought against you. You are being charged a homosexual. Are you or are you not a homosexual?"
"I am."
"Then, it is our duty to discharge you dishonorably. You are stripped of your rank and place in the Marine Corps. In two days time you will be shipped back to your home with all rights and privileges of your earned position stripped. Case dismissed."
The gavel went down and Michael Weatherby knew his career as an officer defending the country he so loved was over, all because of something he could not control.
The plane descended at the Dayton air force base in Ohio. Michael Weatherby disembarked with his bags in hand. The organization that was to be his family abandoned him. He had no one now. He never knew who his parents were. Now it looks as if those he would cast in the role would not be so to him either. He was all alone.
Weatherby called a cab to take him to the cheapest motel in the Dayton area. When he looked around the room he knew exactly it was the cheapest. The room was Spartan and dirty.
"It will suffice," he said.
The next day, Weatherby called a cab to take him to the nearest car dealership. He had saved up most of his money earned from the military that he had quite a nice sum of money available to him. He was going to attempt to start a new life, one as a citizen instead of as a service man.
The cab dropped him off and went on her way. Weatherby walked up to the building and entered.
"Can I help you?" a salesman asked.
"I want a Suburban. Black. What do you have?"
"Right this way. We have several on the lot for sale. We can also order one for you if you want a brand new one."
Weatherby followed the salesman out the door and around the building.
"My name is Jacob," the salesman said.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Mike."
"Nice to meet you Mike. I think you will be pleased with what we have to offer."
Jacob stopped at a row of Suburbans. They varied in color from orange and red to blue and brown. In the middle of them all sat a black Suburban. Weatherby smiled. "How much for the black one?"
"The sticker reads $10,999. I may be able to drop down a little."
"To how much?"
"Probably around $8,000 or so. Do you like it?"
"Does it run?"
"Let's get the keys."
A half hour later, Michael Weatherby was driving a black used Suburban off the lot. He smiled. "So far things are going well. Perhaps I should find a more permanent place to live."
Weatherby pulled off to a gas station and filled up the gas tank. We went inside and grabbed a newspaper, paid for his gas and went out to his vehicle.
A red sports car pulled up and the driver got out. The driver gave Weatherby a passing glance then went on his way to fill up his car. In the passenger side sat his girlfriend. She looked up at Weatherby and gave him a grin. She was flirting with Michael in front of her boyfriend.
"Do you want something to drink, honey?" the boyfriend asked, emphasizing the word "honey" to remind her who she was there with.
"No, thanks."
The driver threw Weatherby a dirty look then went in to pay for the gas. Weatherby smirked and climbed into his Suburban. Soon he was off. He stopped at a fast food place to get something to eat. He sat down and looked through the paper. There didn't seem to be any place small enough for him. He didn't need much. All he really wanted was a studio apartment.
One of the workers came up to clean off the table beside him. "Excuse me," Weatherby said.
"Yes?" the teen girl responded.
"I'm looking for a place to move to. Do you know of any studio apartments around here?"
"You're not from around here are you?"
"No, I'm not. I was just discharged from the service." Weatherby didn't want to say dishonorably. It hurt too much to think about his country rejecting him basing on his sexual orientation, something he has no control over.
"How far are you willing to locate?"
"It doesn't really matter. I just need a place to live, someplace where I can get a new life started."
"I'm originally from Columbus. You should be able to find some nice studio apartments there."
"Thanks."
"One word of advice. Don't move to Short North. It's full of gay people." Then the worker turned and walked away.
Weatherby smiled. "Then perhaps that is exactly where I'll move to."
He finished his meal, went out to his Suburban and drove to the nearest gas station where he bought a map of Ohio. Then off he went toward his new life.
Michael Weatherby drove down High Street in Columbus. He had read in the paper about several apartments in the Short North area where he could afford to live. He had called about several and had appointments to see the apartments. It wasn't going to be much, but he didn't really need much. He turned onto a street and passed Goodale Park. On the other side was his destination. The street was lined with Victorian houses, several of which were remodeled into apartments. He found one that was available and knocked. A young man opened the door.
"Can I help you?" the man asked.
"I'm here about the apartment."
"Oh, the landlord said you were coming. Come on in." The young man entered his apartment and Weatherby followed. "She is going to be a little late. Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, thanks."
"What's your name?"
"Michael Weatherby. Yours?"
"Kevin."
"Nice to meet you, Kevin."
"Nice to meet you." Kevin sat down in a chair. Weatherby sat on one end of the couch. "So do you live an alternative lifestyle?"
"What?" Weatherby asked.
"Are you gay?"
"Yes."
"Cool. Me, too."
Weatherby just looked at Kevin and smirked at him. It was one thing to be gay. It was another to be proud of it and excited about it. Weatherby thought that was what Kevin was doing.
A few minutes later, Kevin's doorbell rang. He got up and answered it. "Oh, come in Miss Langstrom. Mr. Weatherby is here."
"Great."
Weatherby looked up as he saw the young woman with the fire red hair enter. "Hello, Michael. Glad you could make it. Sorry I'm late."
"Not a problem, Miss Langstrom."
"Please, call me Carly. The apartment is on the top floor. I brought the key so you could see it. It's ready for immediate occupation."
Weatherby followed Carly out Kevin's door and up the stairway. They got to the second story and Carly pulled out a key to unlock the door with the number 6 on it. She and Weatherby entered.
A set of stairs immediately ascended and at the top, they opened to a large room. A small kitchen sat on one wall complete with appliances. The rest of the place was carpeted. There was a small room to the left, the bathroom.
"We've just had everything cleaned. The previous tenant left two weeks ago. The inspector came by to see if anything was wrong. She found nothing. Everything is up to code."
"How much is it?"
"Rent is $290 a month, plus your utilities. Rent is due the first of the month with a five-day grace period. I know some people don't get paid the first of the month. It gives some leeway for them."
"That you won't have to worry about from me."
"It's ready for immediate occupation if you are interested."
"I'll take it," Weatherby said.
"Good. We can fill out the paperwork at my place."
Weatherby and Carly went outside, climbed in their respective vehicles, and drove off. After about ten minutes of driving, they came to Carly's house and went inside.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Carly asked.
"No, thanks," Weatherby answered. Carly entered her kitchen. He thought, "Columbus people are awfully hospitable."
Carly came back with a glass of lemonade and she sat on the couch next to Weatherby. She opened her briefcase and pulled out a folder. "Here are all the documents we will need to fill out. An application," she said handing it to Weatherby, "and a lease." She handed that document to him as well. She pulled out a pen and handed it to him.
"Thank you," he responded and he began to fill out the paperwork.
"You know, you are an awfully attractive guy. You have a nice body, good features. Would you like to go out for a drink later tonight?"
Weatherby grinned slightly. "That's flattering of you. However, I don't date girls."
"OH," Carly said with surprise.
"I hope that won't put a damper on me renting the apartment."
"No. No, of course not. I am an equal opportunity landlord. Kevin's gay, for goodness sake. I have no problem with gay people."
"I'm glad to hear that. From your reaction, though, I thought you might have had a problem with it."
"No. I'm just a little surprised. I mean you're gorgeous. Most guys who look like you would have women pining after them. They would take advantage of their looks and bed as many women that would offer."
"I'm not like that. I won't even do that with guys. Most guys don't know I'm gay. I guess I am too masculine to be gay."
"I would guess so," Carly replied.
Weatherby finished filling out the paperwork and handed it to Carly.
"Thanks," she said. "Here are your keys. Do you rent for the rest of this month?"
"I'll have it tomorrow."
"Okay."
Carly walked Weatherby to the door. "Thank you again, Carly. I appreciate this."
Weatherby went out to his Suburban, climbed in and drove back to his apartment. Kevin walked out on the porch as Weatherby climbed out of his vehicle.
"Did you get it?" he asked.
"Yes. Why else would I be here?"
"Maybe to ask me on a date," Kevin said with a grin.
Weatherby just smiled. He opened his back door and grabbed his bags.
"Would you like some help?" Kevin asked.
"No, I got it. Thanks."
Weatherby went upstairs with Kevin at his heels. He unlocked his door and went in. Kevin followed. "Do you have any furniture?" Kevin inquired.
"No. I need to get some."
"If you need any help, I could go with you. I don't have anything to do today. It's my day off."
"I appreciate that." Weatherby tossed his bags into a corner. "Let's go."
Kevin and Weatherby went downstairs and climbed in the Suburban. "I know where all the great stores to buy at are."
Kevin gave directions and Weatherby arrived at a furniture store. The two walked into the vast building. It was a brightly lit store with a warehouse-ceiling feel.
"This way," Kevin said.
Weatherby followed Kevin down and over several aisles until they came to sofas.
"This won't due," Weatherby said. "What I need is something to sleep on. And a sofa bed would be too heavy to take up all the stairs. What I need is a futon."
"This way," Kevin answered. "They have some really cool ones here."
They turned the corner and stood before several futon models. Weatherby picked out a wooden one with drawers underneath. He picked up the box and placed it in the shopping cart.
Two hours later, the two men exited the store with three shopping carts of furniture and supplies.
"Stay here," Weatherby said. "I'll bring around my car."
Weatherby walked toward his car. "Kevin seems like a very nice guy," he thought. "Perhaps I will take him to dinner tonight as a way of saying thank you for his help."
As Weatherby pulled around he saw two guys and two girls standing near Kevin. The two guys were laughing and talking loudly. Kevin just stood there with his head down and his face red. Weatherby rolled down the window and could hear the snide remarks coming from the strangers.
"Yeah, you're a cocksucker!" one said laughing.
"Damn faggots in this city drive me nuts," the other replied. His face was red. He was laughing, but his words held a note of anger.
Weatherby climbed out of the Suburban. The guys kept laughing and joking and making rude comments. Weatherby unlocked the back and went over to Kevin. "Get in. I'll take care of the stuff."
"Yeah, you have to get your boyfriend to fight your battles," the first guy said.
Weatherby, without so much as a warning, turned and punched him. The guy fell to the ground clutching his nose which blood flowed from freely.
"You broke my nose," the man cried. "The bastard broke my nose!"
Weatherby went about loading up his Suburban. The other guy went over to his friend, then stood up and approached Weatherby. He placed his hand on Weatherby's shoulder.
"You're going to pay for that, asshole."
Weatherby swung his arm around the other guys arm. He lifted up and snapped the guy's arm. The guy screamed in pain, but Weatherby did not release his grip. Instead, he swung the guy forward and rammed his face into the Suburban. Weatherby pushed him to the ground. He finished loading up his Suburban, climbed in and drove away, leaving the guys on the ground, one with a broken arm and both with broken noses. The girls just stood there shocked.
"Thanks," Kevin said shyly. "That was nice of you. No one has ever done that for me before."
"You're welcome," Weatherby replied. "I did that once before. It ended up getting me kicked out of the Marines."
"You were a Marine?"
"Yes."
"Wow!"
The rest of the trip home was in silence. Weatherby carried the heavy stuff up while Kevin carried the lighter stuff. The afternoon went by quickly as they put together the furniture and decorated the apartment.
"As a token of appreciation," Weatherby said, "I would like to buy dinner for you. Would you like to go out or would you like to order something for here?"
"Hey, you're buying, man. Whatever you would like to do."
"I don't know anything about this city. You know places to eat better than I do."
"Okay. Hmm, let me think. There's a nice restaurant down on Main Street. We could go there."
"Sounds fine. How about you go down to your apartment and get cleaned up and I get cleaned up here and then I'll come down."
"Okay. Sounds good."
Kevin left Weatherby's apartment.
To Be Continued...
It looks like Michael has found a new friend. And he's also found a new enemy: hate. Tell me what you think. I enjoy hearing from those who read my story. My email address is jmsotc1@yahoo.com
Thanks and keep reading! More to come!