[center][img]https://s33.postimg.cc/4cpiqmjjz/chowpunisher.jpg[/img] [color=black][b][u]12:34 AM; July 7th, 2018 Outside A Recently Collapsed Apartment Building; New York City[/u][/b][/color][hr][h3][color=black][b]VOLUME 1 FINALE ISSUE #5 ON THE RUN[/b][/color][/h3][hr][/center] Blood runs down my face as I leap out of the collapsing building through a window... And subsequently scream as I realize that the window was [i]three stories up[/i]. I land in a pile of trash, thankfully (or unthankfully), and groan in pain as I pull myself to my feet. I continue to limp forward, hearing sirens from the front of the building and seeing the Spider-Woman swinging around the building and shooting webs at it in an effort to control its collapse. At least one of us was making sure no one would get too hurt. I struggle into a nearby alley, collapsing behind a dumpster with a grunt. Shakily, I reach into my pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I stick one in my mouth, lighting it up and taking a drag. I close my eyes, releasing the smoke from my lungs with a sigh. Maria always complained about my smoking, and as soon as the kids were born I went cold turkey; I picked it up again in the last few weeks since their deaths. I let out a chuckle at the events that had transpired. I was going crazy. I should really just stop this silly crusade, change my name, move to another country, live a new life. But something compelled me to keep going. Keep killing in the name of justice, or whatever it was now. At this point, killing was all I knew; I had forgotten what being a loving father and husband was like, what being an upstanding boy scout cop was like, or even what being a decent person was like. Honestly, I was afraid. Afraid at what I had become, what I had done. I've killed dozens of men in the last few days. Honestly, I wasn't sure this was what I was expecting to happen when I started this; I'd gone from hunting after the men who killed my family to fighting a superhero. Quite a serial escalation, that. And, being more honest, I wish she had killed me. I wish I took too long to cut through that webbing and was crushed by the rubble. I wish I was killed in one of the gunfights I had been in this last week. I wish I was killed alongside my family. But as usual, the wishes went ungranted. I pulled myself back to my feet. The cops would be searching the area for me, more than likely. I needed to keep moving, get to my gun stash. It wasn't too far. I'd swing by Dave's in the coming days, and we could work out some sort of battle plan. So far my plans had just consisted of go in and kill everyone who gets in my way, but if I kept doing that I'd get killed. I'd have to strike from the shadows from now on, go after the Manfredi family one member at a time. With my luck though, I'd still end up in at least ten more gunfights before this was done. About half an hour later I arrived at the derelict warehouse I called my safehouse. There were so many other abandoned warehouses around that I wouldn't have to worry about anyone calling the police. I was alone for at least half a mile in every direction, especially at this time of night. I lifted the cloth covering a table, [url=http://www.imfdb.org/images/thumb/4/41/Masterminds_206.jpg/600px-Masterminds_206.jpg]and took a moment to admire the merchandise I had taken from Greco[/url]. Say what you will about the man, but he had top of the line shit. I was able to steal enough ammunition for all the guns to supply a Goddamned army, too. I picked up the kevlar vest I had also taken from his store, and looked over at the cans of spray paint littering the floor, left behind by some kids who had been tagging the warehouse long before I started to use it. I grabbed a can of white spray paint and set the vest down upon the table, before shaking the can and beginning to spray. After a few minutes, I was done. I lifted the vest, and smiled slightly. Dave had a pretty decent idea of me wearing an outfit with a hugeass skull on it. Too bad it wasn't spandex, or purple. But I think it suits me. I slid the vest on. It didn't matter if I had to follow him to the end of the earth. Silvio Manfredi would die before the year was out. [center][img]https://s8.postimg.cc/hdqru0qbp/095_CRIME_111_Unit_03137_R-1.jpg[/img][hr][color=black][b][h1]THE PUNISHER WILL RETURN[/h1][/b][sub]... Probably in a few days.[/sub][/color][/center]