Disclaimer: The Punisher is owned by Marvel Comics.

Author's Note: This takes place after HUNTERS AND KILLERS.

Continuity Note: I totally disregard HOUSE OF M, CIVIL WAR, THE INITIATIVE…Don't looks for references of that here.

Enjoy…Hopefully.

ATTACK OF THE VAMPIRE NINJA OF THE YAKUZA: A PUNISHER FANFIC

On a rooftop near The Docks

New York City

Midnight

Albanian gangsters.

The Punisher had heard from his many sources-on both sides of the law-that the Albanian mob was going to unload some heavy duty merchandise. Heroin. Weapons, maybe, more likely.

Ever since the big gang war from a year before, the New York Crime scene has been in disarray. When some Russian mooks hired some hardcore muscle to take over the city, the streets ran with blood. With the warring organized crime outfits and the Punisher-along with some allies-getting involved, most gangs in all the borrows took heavy casualties.

And so did the cops, after the Russians blew up One Police Plaza, thus killing hundreds of cops and feds. And several innocent bystanders lost their lives as well that day. For being at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Like the Castle family, over thirty years ago, when they were cut down, that sunny summer day, in Central Park. Cut down for stumbling unto…"family business." That was the day The Punisher was born. That was when the man formerly known as Frank Castle started his war on those society failed to Punish. And he hasn't stopped since.

But the Punisher, his allies, and the warring gangs weren't the only ones involved in the carnage. A hard man, a U.S. Marshall called Cleveland Franklin, jumped into the fray. Franklin hunted Castle relentlessly and caught the vigilante and had him arrested and jailed.

For less then three weeks. Castle soon broke out of Ryker's Island and went back on the job.

Same old, same old.

Castle has been working full time ever since. Working hard to control the chaos.

And with Wilson Fisk-The Kingpin Of Crime-still behind bars or missing-the rumors went back and forth on that- there was still a vacuum in the Big Apple's Underworld. And there were dozens of bastards waiting to fill it.

Enter the Albanians. One of the most vicious crime syndicates on the planet. Drugs. Guns. Human trafficking. Anything for a profit.

And now they were trying to make their first big move.

Not on The Punisher's watch.

With the night vision scope fitted on his M-4/M-203 combo carbine, he could see everything as if it were a bright sunny day.

He saw the hard, cold faces. He recognized them. They managed to escape last year's big wars. They've been on his shit list a while, but there was always something else, somewhere else.

Castle was glad he had the opportunity to close that file, so to speak.

There was one big container being unloaded off the huge cargo boat. Had to be the goods.

All right. Castle checked his watch. It was to-

A garrotte seemingly materialized from nowhere and wrapped itself around Castle's left forearm and was slicing into his leather jacket's sleeve. And he was yanked backwards like a ragdoll. All 230 pounds of him. If not for the random luck of him checking his watch, he might have been decapitated. He was being dragged by someone with inhuman strength, almost Spider-Man strength. With his free hand, he managed to draw a .45 from under his coat. Something incredibly fast knocked the pistol out of his hand. His other arm was hurting and bleeding.

Then he was hurled against a beam holding a huge water reservoir back first. The Kevlar absorbed some of the impact but it still hurt like all hell and knocked the wind out of him. He bounced off and went down.

He saw spots. His vision was blurring. But clear enough to see a black clad, hooded figure pull out an edged weapon. A short sword. A ninja weapon.

Castle barely had time to pull out a knife of his own. His forearm blocked his enemy's forearm and the tip of the fucker's blade was mere inches from his face. And getting closer by the second. The bastard had leverage, with Castle being on his back. He struggled to turn his knife towards his adversary's face.

And Castle's knife blade flew out and went into his assailant's Adam's apple. The ninja let go of his weapon and was knocked back, but not down. He was bleeding, his voice nothing more than a gurgle and he was struggling to the ballistic blade out of his throat.

Enough of that shit.

The Punisher found his .45 and shot the ninja twice in the head. The head vanished in a crimson paste and the decapitated corpse turned into dust.

Biodegradable scumbags. Castle has seen that before.

The Hand? Someone using the Hand to muscle in on the mobs?

Think on that later. There had to be other assholes in black pyjamas down there, robbing Castle of his kills.

Sore from the fight, Castle shook his head, like a dizzy fight fighter, and got back in the game.

He was hearing gunfire. They were starting the party without him. That's goddamn rude.

He went back to the edge of the building and grabbed his rifle again.

It was pandemonium.

More ninja, literally cutting down the Albanians. Strong, fast, seemingly dancing around the bullets. He saw some of them opening the containers and rushing in. There were gonna help themselves to the cargo. There were already a dozen Albanians dead.

The Punisher saw four of the Albanian henchmen crouched behind a SUV firing at three incoming ninja.

A peach of a shot.

Castle fired a high explosive 40mm projectile at the SUV. The combine blasts of the HE round and the detonated fuel sent all of the slimebags up, up and away.

He ejected the empty shell casing and replaced it with another HE grenade.

Above the gunfire, above the sounds of war, Castle heard a blood curling scream. It sounded like…a child. It seemed to come from…

Realisation hit him like a freight train.

He had brought rope. He tied it around a vent and threw it over the ledge. He repelled to the ground.

There more terrified screams filling the air, covering the cussing and gunfire. Castle could hear nothing else.

A long .223 burst from his M4 cut down four Albanians coming on his right.

The rifle was yanked from his hands.

Movement on his left. As his eyes caught it, he was hit in the chest by several rounds. 9 mm. It knocked the wind out of him. He went down, rolled, pulled out his twin Colts.

Swallow the pain.

Survive.

PUNISH.

He fired at three men in black. He fired at knees and feet, where Kevlar did no good, usually. Pay dirt.. They went down, writhing in agony.

But there were the other screams…

Willing himself to his feet, Castle ran, towards the screams. Reloading on the way.

Towards the container.

He reached it and looked inside.

Frank Castle, The Punisher, paused, for a millisecond, frozen in horror.

He saw four dozen ninja, hoods off, standing over bloody copses of raggedy looking men, women and children. Some of them were drinking blood from the jugulars, their long fangs slick and crimson. The inside of the container was covered in various blood splatter and some of the people in the box were still alive. In shock. Beyond terror.

Slavers. The Albanians were slavers. The ninja were vampires and they were feeding on the people the Albanians intended to sell as slave labor.

Without a second thought, filled with unspeakable cold rage, he rose his pistols and shot the nearest ones still feeding and blew their heads off. They tuned to ash.

The Punisher was feeling nothing but the cold bloodlust in his guts. These fuckers had to die, plain and simple.

A black blur. Castle was hit in the chest. Not by bullets. A kick. He heard his ribs go as he flew backwards and slid across the asphalt. He lost his guns on the way. He kept hearing the screams. It hurt to breathe. It was still not the hardest he's ever been hit. He could take it. He had to take it.

While he was on his back, the one who had kicked him hissed, blood still dripping from his fangs, leaped in the air, with the intention of landing right foot first into Castle's larynx.

A gunshot resounded. And the ninja was knocked off course and landed hard on his side, in sheer agony, on the concrete. All that thanks to the .44 Magnum special slug from Castle's hide-away Bulldog Charter's Arms that destroyed the ninja's genitals. Punisher took no time to gloat and shot the bastard in the head. His body dissolved instantly.

Castle would never know how he was fast enough to dive away from the other ninja's leap, but he was. While he and the other ninja were in mid air, he fired the remaining four 44 Magnum slugs in the fucker's chest. Castle and a pile of dust hit the ground.

The Punisher went back to his feet. Everything was hurting. He dropped his empty revolver and went back to the container.

It was pure slaughter. The survivors were bathed in blood. They looked like zombies. They were never going to be right again. They looked at him, elderly, young, tired, sick, mutilated. He tried to reassure them, but they backed away from him as if he were the devil.

He locked stares with a little girl. No more than eight. Eyes wide forever.

He heard sirens.

Cops. Healers. That's what these people needed. For now.

Castle limped away to his van. And drove away.

He could never offer these people peace or happiness. The best he could do was retribution.

Find the fuckers responsible and kill them.

Every last fucking one of those evil bloodsucking fucks.

Haunted by the little girl's big, empty eyes, he drove back towards his safehouse.