Subway Surfers Frank Novels & Stories

the tattooed man asked. “We don’t really know, all we know is that he or she lives here” Mika replied. The tattooed man became more aggressive as he thought he was being mocked. He tried throwing a punch on Mika’s face,but Mika avoided the punch, and threw three continuous punches on the man’s stomach..The man fell down. “Please don’t kill me, I’m Frank but my friends call me funky,I will help you just let me go”He cried. I nearly laughed.

With feigned curiosity, she asked, "A potential girlfriend? What's she like? I'll come with you to see who it is, Stan." Then, she turned to me and added, "Don't forget to drink the soup, honey." Nodding, I smiled faintly as I watched them leave. Once they were out of sight, I swiftly poured some of the soup into a resealable bag I'd prepared in advance. The rest went down the toilet bowl. … By the time Jessica and Stanley returned, there was no trace of the soup left in the flask, save for the drop of it that clung to the corner of my lips.

Frank turned to see Jenny, holding a spoon, looking at him with utter disbelief. Frank's expression froze, and he hurriedly said, "You've mistaken me for someone else. I'm not Frank!" In his panic, his voice hadn't even changed. He was completely exposed now. Frank's face stiffened. Seeing Jenny's expression, he almost wished he could strangle himself with the slimy pasta. Damn it. He thought he had no dignity to show anymore. With determination, he scrambled to his feet without looking back and ran outside. Damn, damn, damn!

I sip on my cup of warm tea while I wait for Carla to come back. About five minutes after she left Carla came back with an older man, late sixties maybe with trimmed gray hair. “ My Luna, the head of the cleaning staff is busy at the moment but Frank is available.” Carla says. I get up from my chair and hold out my hand. “ Hello, Frank. Thanks for coming.” I said. Frank takes my hand and bows “ It is an honor Luna.” When Frank lefts his head he lets go of my hand. I wave my hand to a chair beside me. “ Please take a seat.” I said. While Frank and I sat Carla went to make some coffee after asking Frank if he would like something to drink.

The Vasquez bloodline, digitized, weaponized, calling. I opened my mouth to warn her when the subway grate at our feet hissed open. A hand reached out. Not shadow. Not fragment. Frankie Russo. His face was half-melted, one eye glowing red, the other human and terrified. “Kid,” he rasped, voice layered with static, “you gotta see this.” We followed him down.

I scanned the room, trying to find a quiet spot or at least a spot far from the loud, attention-seeking groups. And there he was. Frank. Sitting at a table near the windows, tossing a piece of fruit up and catching it effortlessly, a grin plastered across his face. He spotted me immediately, waving me to come over. I sighed dramatically but smiled anyway, making my way toward him. “You’re really making this easy, you know,” I teased, sliding into the seat across from him. “Easy?” Frank raised an eyebrow, mock offense in his tone. “I’m making it entertaining.”

“Worse. It was fermented scorpion.” Frank recoils. “Oh my God.” "Yeah. Turns out, he had a ‘specialty menu’ for tourists, and I walked right into it. The locals just stood there, watching, waiting for my reaction. And let me tell you – I gave them a show.” Frank is laughing now, shaking his head. "That’s horrifying. How bad was it?" “Imagine licking a battery. Then add spoiled fish to the mix.” He groans. “I think I just died a little inside.”

" Frank smirked and he raced past me. I just laughed and sped up right behind him. That dude could be a baby sometimes. I thought When I reached him at the suya spot I noticed him holding a suya paper filled with pieces of suya which he vigorously munched on as if his life depended on it. I rolled my eyes and joined him "You couldn't even wait for your buddy." "Who says you're my buddy? He asked with mouth full as he kept throwing suya pieces in his mouth at every given chance. "Ain't you my buddy? I questioned a bit curious as to what we were.

Part of me wants to deny it, but part thinks he could be on to something. But I feel something. “Just because I am different and struggling, doesn’t make me less of anything.” My fists clenched,h and I feel my anger bubble to the surface. Frank’s expression changes. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.” I want to get away from him. I am a mix of emotions. I need time to think, but something stops me from leaving…the photo. “Frank, do you know anyone named Bob?” Frank furrows his brow as he shifts in the tub. He winces slightly. I knew those wounds bothered him. He needs to stop being Superman. “There are tons of Bobs in this town. It is a very common name. Why?”

she asked. Frank’s brow dragged and narrowed at her, “come on, it is called showbiz. That is his style and costume. I think it makes him stand out and unique at least if I get to hear that Sole Survivor is coming to town, I should expect to see a tall ,Caucasian dude in face mask . Isn’t that good?”