The next morning, Y/N is currently having a dream where his family and his friends were celebrating his birthday. In Y/N's dream, he is surrounded by the people he cares about the most. His friends and family are gathered around him, all smiling and laughing as they sing a chorus of "Happy Birthday." There are presents stacked high on a table, all wrapped beautifully in colorful wrapping paper. Everyone is having a great time, enjoying themselves and making Y/N feel special on his birthday. There's a big birthday cake in the middle of the room, with all of hisfavorite decorations on it. Everyone claps as Y/N blows out the birthday candles, making a wish. They all clapped and cheered while popping balloons and having a good time, however.... Y/N can't help but feel uneasy about something. He goes to stand up until he noticed he couldn't move, he looks down and noticed he was restrained to a chair.

Y/N: What the.....?!

He noticed his family and friends were frozen and suddenly sees Billy russo's soldier comrades with guns walking in.

Y/N: What?! Wait- no no no no!!! Wait wait wait-

They all stood by his family and friends getting their weapons ready.

Y/N: WAIT WAIT WAIT- WAIT! WAIT! NO! DONT PLEASE!!!

They cock their guns and then-

Y/N: NOOOOOO!!!!

BANG

Y/N bolts awake in bed and gasps. Y/N bolts upright in bed, his eyes wide open as he gasps for air. He's drenched in cold sweat, his heart racing as if he had just ran a marathon. His hands clutch the bedsheets tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Y/N: No, no, no... It was just a nightmare, just a nightmare...

Y/N takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He can still feel the residual fear and panic from the nightmare, but it slowly fades away as he reminds himself that it wasn't real.

Y/N: Just a dream... just a stupid dream. It's over now, it's alright...

Y/N sits there for a moment, trying to control his breathing and calm his racing heart. He looks around his room, grounding himself in reality and reminding himself that it was all just a bad dream. The morning sunlight was peeking through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. Y/N takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his sweaty hair, trying to shake the remnants of the nightmare.

The scene transitions to Y/N's daily routine at school. As the week progressed Y/N noticed that Lizzy wasn't at the diner or at school the entire week. Y/N walks the halls of the school, going to his classes as usual. However, he can't help but notice that Lizzy is nowhere to be seen. She wasn't at their usual diner spot, and she hadn't shown up to class either. He starts to feel a sense of worry creeping in, wondering where Lizzy could be and why she hadn't showed up to school. He tries to shrug it off, convincing himself that she might just be sick or something, but the nagging feeling doesn't quite go away. One night he walks in the diner to get some food until suddenly the waitress said something that broke him.

Waitress: She's at the hospital.....

Y/N's heart sinks as he hears the waitress mention the hospital. Concern instantly fills his mind, knowing exactly who she was referring to.

Y/N: What? Lizzy's in the hospital? What happened?

The waitress gives him a sad look, her expression solemn.

Waitress: I don't know the details, but word is, she wasn't looking good. Apparently, she came in after school, all bruised up and bloody. She was beaten by a group of guys....

Y/N's blood runs cold as he hears the waitress' words. His mind immediately jumps to conclusions, anger and worry coursing through his veins. Y/N's fists clench involuntarily, and a muscle in his jaw tics as he tries to control his anger. The urge to go after those responsible and make them pay for hurting Lizzy is overwhelming.

Y/N: Do you know which hospital she's at?

The waitress nods, taking note of Y/N's intense demeanor.

Waitress: Yeah, she's at Saint Mary's Hospital. She's been there all week. I heard she was in pretty bad shape.

Y/N can feel his anger boiling inside of him, but he knows he needs to keep it under control. He needs to see Lizzy and make sure she's alright.

Y/N: Thank you.....

He stood up and left going straight to the hospital. At the hospital- Y/N was standing outside a hospital room which shows Lizzy in her hospital bed bloody, bruised with a black eye and bruised cheek unconscious. Y/N peers through the window to Lizzy's room. His heart sinks as he sees her in that state. She's bruised and battered, her eye swollen shut and her cheek black and blue. The sight of her unconscious and injured makes his blood boil.

He stands there for a moment, his fists clenching and unclenching, trying to control his anger. He mutters to himself, his voice low and strained.

Y/N: What the hell did they do to her...

As Y/N stares at Lizzy, the memories start to flood back. It's as if he's reliving the violent and ruthless moments of the Punisher all over again. He can see in his mind's eye the times when he didn't hold back, the times when his anger and vengeance took over. Y/N clenches his jaw, trying to push those memories away. He can't let himself go back to that dark place, not again. But the sight of Lizzy, hurt and vulnerable, makes it hard to keep the Punisher in check. A couple of minutes later Y/N is drinking a coffee in the hallway until he noticed a middle aged looking woman crying and staring at Lizzy through the window. Y/N watches the woman for a moment, his heart aching as he realizes this must be Lizzy's mother. He feels a pang of sympathy and decides to approach her. Y/N quietly walks over to the woman's side and stands beside her, looking at Lizzy in the room. He doesn't say anything at first, just stands there in silence, not sure what to say. But he feels compelled to comfort her somehow.

Y/N: Are you... Lizzy's mom?

The woman nods silently, her gaze not leaving Lizzy's unconscious form. Y/N notices the redness and puffiness around her eyes and can see the worry and grief etched on her face.

The woman finally speaks in a hoarse and weary voice, barely above a whisper.

Lizzy's Mom: Yes, I'm her mother..... Who are you?

Y/N gently introduces himself, his own voice laced with concern.

Y/N: I'm a friend of Lizzy's. We're in the same class. I, uh...I heard about what happened and came to see how she's doing.

Lizzy's mom turns to him, her eyes red and teary.

Lizzy's Mom: She's... she's not doing well. They said she'll pull through, but she's been unconscious for days. No one can get anything out of her. The police have been hassling me with questions, but I........ they.... they said they would kill her or me if I told the police or anyone.....

Y/N tensed up at her word when she said they and he immediate had a hunch on who it might've been.

Y/N: Whose they......?

Lizzy's mom's voice trembles as she whispers.

Lizzy's Mom: Her boyfriend and his gang. They're... they're part of a nasty bunch, always involved in shady deals. I've been trying to get her to stay away from them, but she never listens.....

Y/N feels his anger flare up at the mention of Lizzy's boyfriend and his gang, only confirming his suspicions about who was responsible.

Y/N: Ma'am. You have my word when I say I'll make sure they never harm you or your daughter ever again.

Lizzy's mom looks at Y/N, surprise and hope in her eyes.

Lizzy's Mom: You... You'll help us? You'll keep us safe from them?

Y/N nods, determination in his eyes.

Y/N: Yes, I will. I promise you, I won't let them touch either of you again.

Lizzy's mom's eyes well up with tears, and she grabs Y/N's hand and squeezes it, her voice filled with gratitude.

Lizzy's Mom: Thank you, thank you. I feel like I can breathe a little easier now that you're here. I knew something bad was going to happen, I just knew it....

Y/N can feel the weight of her trust and despair in her grip, and he squeezes her hand back reassuringly. The scene transitions to Y/N's home in his garage. He was just sitting in a chair in the middle of the garage holding a knife. As Y/N sat in his garage, his mind was flooded with memories from his past as The Punisher. In his mind's eye, he saw himself mercilessly taking down criminals without mercy. The images were graphic and brutal, but the thrill of the hunt and the satisfaction of justice being served were undeniable. As Y/N continued to sit in the garage, he couldn't help but also remember his family from the past. Images of his loved ones flashed through his mind, their smiles and laughter bringing a pang of sadness to his chest. He missed them dearly, their presence feeling like a lifetime ago. The memory of Y/N's battle with Billy Russo played out in his mind like a movie. He relived every punch, every kick, every moment of struggling against his former friend. The image of Y/N smashing Billy's head against the glass was particularly vivid, the anger and determination in his eyes as clear as if it had just happened. Y/N squeezed the handle of the knife in his hand as he thought back to the memories of the bullying he had endured in the past. He recalled the jocks who had tormented him, their taunting words and actions burned into his memory. The image of the terrified Freshmen came back to him as well, reminding him of the powerlessness he had felt in those moments. Y/N stood up, the knife firmly clenched in his hand. He walked over to the tool table, his steps slow and deliberate. He felt the weight of the knife in his grip and the anger and determination building inside of him once more. He knew what he had to do. Y/N took the knife and slowly started carving something onto the table. His movements were deliberate and precise as he etched the words into the wooden surface. The sound of the knife cutting into the wood echoed through the garage, the only sound beside Y/N's steady breathing. The garage was filled with quiet as Y/N continued his work, his focus entirely on the carving he was creating. With each cut of the knife, he felt a sense of release, as if he was putting his anger and emotions into the tool with each stroke. Y/N stepped back and looked at the carving he had made. The image staring back at him was the now familiar Punisher skull. As he looked at it, Y/N felt a sense of purpose and determination wash over him. The symbol of the skull was more than just a carving, it was a reminder of his past and his mission. The scene transitions to Y/N destroying the garage floor with his sledgehammer over and over until eventually pulling out a giant suitcase that he buried deep in the ground long ago. Y/N knelt down and dug his fingers into the dirt, revealing the hidden suitcase. The weight of what was inside and the significance of what he was about to do hit him like a wave. He carefully opened the suitcase, revealing the Punisher vest and armor that he had thought he had buried away for good. Y/N reverently pulled out the battle vest and armor, running his fingers over the familiar fabric. The sight of the armor brought back a rush of memories, both good and bad. He had once thought he would never need this equipment again, that he had moved on from that life. Y/N took a deep breath as he realised what he was about to do. He knew that this was a dangerous path to tread, that he was risking everything by bringing back the memories and the pain. The Punisher vest and armor hung in his hands now, and he knew that once he put it on, there would be no turning back. Y/N began to gear up slowly, the familiar feel of the Punisher armor and weapons against his body like a second skin. Each piece of armor, each armament he attached to his body felt both a comfort and a curse. He adjusted the armor and weapons, then looked himself in the mirror. The sight of himself in the Punisher armor was a mix of nostalgia and trepidation.

Y/N: I'm home.

Y/N stared at his reflection in the mirror, the Punisher armor and weapons now fully on his body. The sight of himself in the armor brought a mix of emotions. On one hand, he felt a sense of comfort and familiarity, almost like he was returning to a home he hadn't known he missed. On the other hand, the memories and pain associated with this life were also stirred up, reminding him of the cost of this path. He muttered to himself, his voice tinged with satisfaction and resignation.

Y/N's phone buzzed as he stared at his phone and noticed it was texts from Michael.

Michael(text): BRO I NEED YOUR HELP! THOSE JOCKS THEIR AFTER ME!

Y/N's eyes widened as he read the text from Michael. The mention of the jocks and Michael's plea for help triggered a protective instinct in him. He typed a quick response.

Y/N (text): Where are you?

Michael(text): CONSTRUCTION SITE- HURRY THEY MIGHT THROW ME IN A CONCRETE PIT!

Y/N read the text message and felt a flicker of anger. The thought of Michael in danger, being threatened by those jocks, was all he needed. Y/N typed out a quick response.

Y/N (text): Stay put. I'm on my way.

Y/N was about to walk out of the garage when he noticed a photo falling out from one of the pouches in his armor. He picked it up, gently holding the photo in his gloved hands. A pang of nostalgia and sadness struck him as he looked at the image. The image was of his family, all smiling and carefree in a moment frozen in time. Y/N ran a gloved finger across their faces, his heart aching at the thought of them. The photo was a brutal reminder of what he had lost and what he was trying to protect. Y/N placed the photo back in the drawer, taking a moment to steel himself. The sight of his family brought back a mix of emotions, but he pushed them aside and refocused on the task at hand. He grabbed his keys and walked out of the garage, closing the door behind him.

At the construction site, a yellow sports car speeds into the site as four jocks including the leader exit the car and dragged a bruised and beaten Michael out. The leader of the jocks barked out orders to his associates, his tone cruel and authoritative.

Jock Leader: Get his ass inside! One of you, turn the concrete mixer on!

One of the goons nodded and walked over to a nearby concrete mixer, which started to spin and churn, mixing the concrete inside.

Meanwhile, Y/N had just arrived nearby, having come to the construction site as quickly as he could. He had a clear view of the scene unfolding: Michael's beaten and battered form being dragged towards the concrete mixer, and the ominous sight of the turning machine, ready to swallow him up.

The leader of the jocks pointed at one of his associates.

Jock Leader: You! Make sure no one enters.

The associate nodded and moved away from the other jocks, taking up a position at the entrance of the construction site, acting as a guard to prevent any interruptions. Y/N observed the scene and quickly assessed the situation. The jocks had set up a guard, making it more challenging for him to interfere. He needed to act fast, but he also didn't want to put Michael in more danger by rushing in recklessly. With his hammer in hand, Y/N quietly exited his car and slipped into the construction site. He stayed low, using the nearby bricks as cover, and crept towards the concrete mixer where Michael was being held. Y/N watched from his hiding place with a growing disgust and anger. The giant jock brute was engrossed in watching explicit videos on his phone, with a sick and sleazy grin on his face. Y/N's grip on his sledgehammer tightened as he saw the content the brute was enjoying. Y/N slowly approved the brute and spoke.

Y/N: Hey.

The brute jock was suddenly interrupted from his vulgar entertainment by a voice from behind him. He turned his head, only to be met with the brutal force of Y/N's sledgehammer smashing into his knee. The blow sent him reeling, and before he could react, Y/N lunged forward and slammed the sledgehammer into the brute's face. Y/N slammed the sledgehammer on the brute jock multiple times before eventually killing him and walking inside the construction building.

Inside the construction building, Michael struggled and fought against the jocks as they dragged him towards the edge of the cliff, the concrete pit waiting below for him.

Michael: No! Please, no! Let me go!

The leader of the jocks chuckled darkly as he saw Michael's fear, reveling in the power he held over him.

Jock Leader: Too late for that now.

He grinned sinisterly as he and his associates held tight to Michael, ready to push him over the edge.

Michael's heart was racing with terror as he fought against the jocks, trying to break free or find some way to escape. The edge of the cliff loomed closer and closer, each second bringing him closer to the concrete pit below.

The leader of the jocks tightened his grip, his expression cruel and victorious.

Jock Leader: Any last words before we send you down to meet the concrete, kid?

Michael whimpered and pleaded, his voice filled with fear.

Michael: Please, I don't want to die like this... let me go!

The leader of the jocks chuckled sadistically, seemingly enjoying Michael's terror.

Jock Leader: Too late for that, buddy. You should've thought about that before messing with us.

Michael fell into the concrete pit, his body sinking deep into the thick, viscous concrete. He struggled and thrashed, desperately trying to swim to the surface.

Michael (screaming): No! No!!!!! Hey! Please!!!! Let me out!!!

The leader of the jocks chuckled again, standing at the edge of the cliff and peering down at Michael's struggling figure. His laughter echoed cruelly through the construction site.

Leader Jock: Looks like you're gonna be a part of the foundation now, kid. Enjoy your new life as a building block.

The other jocks joined in the laughter, finding sick amusement in the torment they were causing Michael. One of them even snapped a photo of Michael's struggling form frozen in the concrete.

Y/N: Shut it off.

The laughter from the jocks was cut off abruptly as Y/N's voice rang out from behind them.

Leader Jock: Who the Hell—

The jocks spun around, their laughter abruptly silenced by Y/N's unexpected presence. It was clear they hadn't expected to see Y/N, and their expressions turned from smug arrogance to surprised shock. Y/N stood there with his blood sledgehammer and his punisher armor. However the jocks laughed thinking it was some sort of dramatic hero moment for him.

The jocks looked at Y/N, their initial surprise quickly turning into laughter. They were used to seeing heroes in cheesy costumes and dramatic moments in movies, and Y/N's appearance fit right into that category for them. They chuckled at the sight of his bloodstained hammer and the intimidating armor, thinking he was a joke.

Leader Jock: Look at this guy. He thinks he's a superhero or something.

Y/N's eyes blazed with a furious intensity as the jocks made their mockery of him. His grip on the hammer tightened, knuckles turning white. The casual dismissal and underestimation from the jocks only fueled his anger further, causing his breath to come out in sharp, clenched bursts.

The leader of the jocks pulled out a handgun and aimed it directly at Y/N, a mocking grin on his face. The other jocks behind him chuckled sinisterly, clearly enjoying the situation.

Leader: Tonight just keeps getting better and better. Not only do we get to enjoy watching this punk sink in concrete, we get to take care of a wannabe hero too.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

Y/N suddenly grabs his arm disarming him and slammed the hammer into his knee making him scream and fall as he hits goon 1 in the face with the hammer before quickly hitting the goon 2 in the stomach making him scream in pain before kicking goon 1 legs hard and hitting him in the head as he grabbed the goon 2's arm and breaks it making him scream and cry before hitting him in the back with his hammer and slapping him away. Goon 1 groaned and got up until Y/N hits him in the crotch and roared as he slammed the hammer handle on his face causing blood to splatter everywhere.

Y/N titled his head and raised his hammer high and slammed it onto the jock leader's back making him cry and scream falling back onto the ground.

Lyrics: I had a good home but I left
I had a good home but I left, right, left
That big fucking bomb made me deaf, deaf

Y/N put the hammer on goon 2's shoulders and turned him around, as the goon faced Y/N he gasped in shock and horror and was about to speak until Y/N roared and bashed his skull in with the sledgehammer killing him as his body falls in the concrete pit.

Michael sees the dead goon in the concrete pit with him which confused and shocked him.

Michael: OH MY GOD- HELP!!!
SOMEONE!!!

Michael's desperate cry echoed through the construction site, the only sound other than the soft hum of the concrete mixer. The sound of gunfire rang out suddenly. Y/N reacted instinctively, the reflexes that his father had taught him kicking in. He dodged the shot with incredible speed and fluidity, rolling across the ground and coming back up with his sledgehammer back in his hands. He looked towards the direction of the gunfire, his mind already assessing the threat. Goon 1 was still alive, his leg broken and his face mangled from Y/N's earlier attack. Despite the pain, he was still determined to fight back. With one arm, he held a gun and aimed it shakily at Y/N, a crazed look in his eyes. He suddenly runs out of bullets and runs off on one leg in terror.

The jock leader called out to the fleeing goon, his voice betraying a mix of fear and anger.

Jock leader: No! Jackson! Jackson, don't leave me!!

However, his pleas fell on deaf ears as the goon, now known as Jackson, hobbled away as fast as he could. He left the jock leader behind, abandoned in his despair. Y/N stepped out of the shadows, his movements as silent and fluid as a predator stalking its prey. The jock leader's eyes widened in horror as Y/N approached, and in a desperate attempt to save himself he reached for the gun he had dropped just moments ago. With a swiftness that was almost imperceptible, Y/N swiftly grabbed his hand and broke it with a sickening crack. The leader of the jocks let out a guttural scream as he felt his hand break. His gun flew from his grip as he dropped it and backed away in pain, his body instinctively seeking to escape the source of his agony.
Y/N stood up and grabbed the gun chasing after Jackson.

Lyrics: A Humvee mechanic put his Kevlar on wrong
I guarantee you'll meet up with a suicide bomb
Hell broke Luce
Hell broke Luce

Jackson got in the yellow sports car limping and groaning as he starts the car. He's about to drive off until suddenly- he is shot in the head from afar by Y/N due to his skills and training.

Lyrics: Big fucking ditches in the middle of the road
You pay a hundred dollars just for fillin' in the hole
Listen to the general every goddamn word
How many ways can you polish up a turd
Left, right, left, left, right
Left, right
Hell broke Luce
Hell broke Luce
Hell broke Luce

The scene transitions to Y/N who casually threw Jackson's body into the concrete pit, landing with a heavy thud and a splash. Michael, still struggling to stay afloat in the thick concrete, let out a horrified scream at the sight.

The jock leader's arrogance had been replaced with fear and pleading. He was now cowering on the ground, his face a mix of terror and regret. Y/N walked back towards him, the bloody hammer gripped tightly in his hand. The jock leader's eyes widened with fear as he looked up at Y/N, his voice full of desperation.

Jock Leader: P-please, don't hurt me. I'm sorry, alright? It was just a prank, man. I didn't mean it. Just take the money alright???

The jock leader pleaded for mercy, his tough guy persona completely shattered. He was at Y/N's mercy now, and he knew it.

Jock Leader: IT WAS HIM OR US!!!

The jock leader's voice rose in a pathetic attempt at justification. He tried to shift the blame to the other members of his group, his words slurred and frantic.

Y/N: You think this is about money....?

The jock leader's panic rose at Y/N's response. He obviously had assumed that money was the primary motivating factor for Y/N's actions, and the realization that it wasn't was clearly throwing him off guard.

Jock Leader: Y-yeah, I can give you money. How much do you want, huh? A thousand? Two thousand? More???

The jock leader suddenly lets out a blood-curdling scream as Y/N slammed the hammer onto his other knee, the sickening sound of bone and cartilage shattering filling the area.

Y/N: Lizzy's Boyfriend. Talk.

Jock leader: L-liz... Lizzy's boyfriend? W-what are you talking about, man??

The jock leader let out a strangled scream as Y/N slammed his foot onto his knee and began to apply more pressure. The pain was unbearable, and the jock leader realized that Y/N was serious about getting information.

Y/N: WHERE IS HE??!!

The jock leader's fear overcame him once more as Y/N roared at him. His body trembled with terror, and he quickly tried to give Y/N what he wanted, babbling out information in a desperate attempt to spare himself more pain.

Jock leader: W-wait, WAIT!! I-I'll tell you!! I'll tell you!! His business operations are held at a warehouse in manhattan somewhere!!!! I swear that's all I know!!! Please!!!

The jock leader's voice cracked with fear as he urgently gave Y/N the information he was looking for. The mention of a warehouse in Manhattan gave Y/N a potential lead, and he suddenly lifted his foot off the jock leader's mauled knee. Y/N slowly walked by the jock leader's side, the hammer still gripped tightly in his hand. Every step he took was filled with a threatening presence, clearly still a man not to be underestimated.

Jock leader: P-please!!!

Y/N gestured to his sledgehammer and looked down at the leader.

Y/N: You said you were gonna find a home for this. But now I am.

Jock leader: NO- WAIT!!!!

The jock leader's screams of fear and pain echoed through the construction site as Y/N slams the sledgehammer on the leader's head multiple times before killing him and dumping his body in the concrete pit. The concrete mixer is shut off.

Michael, still struggling to breathe and on the verge of drowning in concrete, looked up with a mixture of hope and desperation as he heard someone approaching. A rope was suddenly thrown down, hitting the ground next to him.

Michael: Is... Is someone there? Please... I can't breathe...

As Michael finally managed to crawl his way out of the pits of concrete, he found himself alone in the construction site, with no one in sight. However, the sound of a car speeding off in the distance caught his attention, and he realized that someone had just left.

Michael lay on the ground, gasping and coughing as he tried to catch his breath. His body was battered and bruised from his time in the pit, but he had miraculously survived. As Michael sat up, he suddenly became aware of a strange sensation behind him. He turned around and was met with a sight that sent a chill down his spine. A giant skull, painted in what appeared to be blood, loomed menacingly in front of him.

Michael's eyes widened with horror, his mind struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. The sight of the gory symbol made him shiver, and a sense of dread washed over him.

The warehouse in Manhattan loomed in the background, a monolithic structure in the midst of the city. The building was large and imposing, built of cold, grey concrete, with few windows and a large garage door that dominated one side of the exterior.

Inside the warehouse, Lizzy's boyfriend and his gang were having a good time, laughing and celebrating loudly. Strippers danced suggestively around them, adding to the already charged atmosphere. The men were clearly in a jovial mood, enjoying the company of the strippers and the sense of power that comes from being in control. Lizzy's boyfriend, a man of wealth and privilege, sat in his chair, a beer in one hand as he leered at the strippers. He was clearly enjoying himself, surrounded by his loyal followers and the women who catered to his every whim. A few of his followers were busy counting stacks of cash while others were engaged in loud conversations, their voices carrying through the air. It was a scene of power and indulgence, fueled by money and the thrill of breaking the law.

However- it's broken when the power suddenly goes out. The sudden blackout plunged the warehouse into darkness, shattering the carefree atmosphere. The music cut out abruptly, leaving behind an eerie silence. A few people groaned and muttered in frustration, caught off guard by the sudden loss of power.

Lizzy's boyfriend slammed his beer on the table in irritation, clearly annoyed by the inconvenience.

Lizzy's Boyfriend: What the hell?! he cursed, looking around in the dark. What happened to the power?

The sudden sound of gunshots echoed through the warehouse, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. Panicked shouts and screams filled the air, as all the gang members were suddenly shot at by an unknown figure in the darkness. Chaos ensued as they blindly fired back at their assailant, their bullets ricocheting off the walls and furniture. The gun shots stopped as the power turns back on, Lizzy's boyfriend gasps in horror when he sees his friends all on the floor lifeless.

Lizzie's boyfriend reacted quickly, swinging his shotgun towards the mysterious presence he sensed behind him. However, Y/N was faster, moving with lightning speed and shooting him in the stomach before he could even get a shot off.

The force of the bullet hit him hard, causing him to stumble backwards, dropping his weapon. He let out a pained grunt, clutching his stomach as blood seeped through his fingers. Y/N calmly cocked the shotgun, the shell dropping out with a clatter. The sound of metal and the sight of the shell falling to the floor was oddly ominous in the now quiet warehouse.

The realization seemed to dawn on Lizzie's boyfriend as he looked at Y/N in shock and horror. His eyes widened at the sight before him, and he struggled to speak through the pain.

Lizzie's Boyfriend: Y-you...?!
He croaked weakly, his voice filled with disbelief and fear.

Lizzie's boyfriend's voice became more desperate as Y/N approached him.

Lizzie's Boyfriend: W-wait- wait, please! I-I'll give you anything you want! Money, power, a-anything! Just don't kill me, please!

Y/N stood there with the shotgun in hand.

Y/N: You'd just come after them again.

The shotgun roared as Y/N fired a fatal shot, ending Lizzy's boyfriend's life. The echo of the shot rang through the quiet warehouse, signaling the conclusion of Y/N's mission.

For a moment, silence hung in the air, except for the faint sound of bodies falling to the floor. Y/N stood there, the shotgun still in hand, having taken his revenge for Lizzy. Y/N throws the shotgun aside with his gloves on as he walked over to the stacks of cash, explicit photos, and other items, leaving behind a trail of gasoline as he poured it over everything. The sharp smell of the flammable liquid filled the air as Y/N continued to soak the incriminating evidence.

With a satisfied nod, Y/N pulled out a lighter and lit it up before throwing the lighter on the liquid pool causing the money, explicit photos, and all the other merchandise to burn.

Y/N stood there watching the fire burn, the money and other items that would implicate their enemy now reduced to ashes. The heat of the fire illuminated the warehouse, casting an eerie glow on Y/N face.

Y/N walked out of the burning warehouse, his hood up and shielding his face from view. As he stepped out into the night, a sense of determination took over him. He was no longer just Y/N, but someone else entirely.

The Punisher.

To be continued.....