✔ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ War Dogs [The Punisher | Frank Castle]✔

─⌖❖ 01

More than half an hour passed before the forensic team finally arrived, then cordoned off the building and closed off the immediate vicinity. In contrast, it took less than ten minutes for the first onlookers and journalists to arrive on the scene. It was always the same.

Such things as murder, corpses and psychopaths were nothing new for Page, not for a long time, but the world changed with Iron Man's appearance, so did the criminals, and much of what resulted could no longer be forgotten. Some of it had burned itself firmly into her brain and was since then omnipresent - always before her eyes. This job never lets go of a person.

Something about this crime scene seemed strangely familiar to Page. A dead woman sitting in the bathroom leaning against a glass partition and the dead husband holding a knife, presented like a puppet in the room. Above the woman, something had been written in blood on the glass partition. All liars. Chuckling, she shook her head, took some photos, and then examined the wire to which the husband was attached and tugged on it. Nice. The husband was aligned so that he was pointing the knife directly at his wife as if he had stabbed her. So, what was it that looked so familiar to her? Years ago, there had been a guy who called himself a doll maker, but this looked different. This looked much more like a production. It looked to her like a scene from a play. Quite elaborate and it was meant to be seen. It should be seen by her, otherwise she would not have received that call. And most importantly, it seemed personal.

"You must feel right at home here," an officer said to Page as he walked past her to take a closer look at the woman in the bathroom, "Just missing some food, maybe?"

"Not from you. Because you're a shitty cook, as everyone knows," Page replied good-humoredly, not taking anything else from what was said either, "I'm going home, thus I hope you enjoy this one."

In the middle of the stairs, however, Page stopped, squatted down, and gently ran his fingers over the wall at the step. It might look like a series of stains at first glance, so she had stopped and was about to let Forensics know that they were taking samples of it and documenting it. However, they were not stains. Something had been cut into the wood. Hastily she pulled her phone out of her pocket, took a picture, and turned on the flashlight to take another one that showed more. It was either a face or a mask.