Chapter 32: A Reckoning in the Chapel
John walked back into the room, still wearing his mask. He'd stepped out earlier to grab coffee and a few supplies. Sure, a guy in a mask buying coffee at sunrise might turn a few heads, but hey, it's America. Stranger things happen every day, right? (If anyone's even reading this.)
Inside, his eyes landed on Daredevil and Punisher mid-workout. Both were locked into their routines, focused and steady.
Noticing John's return, they paused.
They'd been holding off on checking the other two for one reason: waiting for him.
They needed answers—not just about Kilgrave, but about John, too.
"Are they awake?" John asked, his voice casual but firm.
"Kilgrave is," Daredevil replied evenly. He could already sense Kilgrave's presence, faint and shallow. John's setup left no room for movement, let alone speaking.
"Alright," John said with a nod, already heading toward the chapel. "Let's go meet him."
He paused mid-step, turning briefly to the Punisher. "Take your rifle."
The Punisher gave a grim smile, slinging his weapon over his shoulder as John continued walking.
The chapel's air felt heavier the moment they entered, like the building itself was holding its breath. The faint scent of dust and wood hung in the air. Up front, Kilgrave sat restrained, glaring at them.
Punisher's gaze locked on him immediately. His steps faltered for just a moment—barely noticeable, but Daredevil caught it.
"His mouth is sealed," Daredevil said, his voice steady, as if to break the tension.
John noticed Punisher's hesitation but didn't comment. His focus was locked on Kilgrave.
"Hm," Punisher muttered, forcing himself to move forward. His fists clenched at his sides, last night's memories still fresh and raw.
Kilgrave sat chained to the chair, his mouth sealed with duct tape. His eyes followed their every move, burning with frustration and defiance.
"Hmm, hmm, wmmm," Kilgrave attempted to speak, his muffled noises echoing in the quiet chapel. It was obvious he was trying to give a command, but with his mouth sealed, nothing came out clearly.
Punisher sneered. "Not so powerful when you can't run your mouth, huh?"
Daredevil tilted his head slightly, listening to Kilgrave's muffled protests. "He doesn't stop, does he?"
John stepped closer, calm and unshaken. He leaned in, his voice cutting through Kilgrave's protests like a knife. "Shut up."
Kilgrave's protests grew louder, his chains rattling as he shifted against his restraints.
John didn't speak again. He just acted. His fist slammed into Kilgrave's stomach with brutal precision.
Kilgrave's eyes widened, tears springing to them as the air left his lungs. A choking sound escaped him, his body jerking violently against the restraints.
For someone like Kilgrave—who relied on manipulation, not strength—the sheer force of that punch was overwhelming.
John straightened, his face calm, almost detached. "I won't say it again," he said quietly, his voice like ice.
Kilgrave stared at him, pale and trembling. Any thought of defiance vanished from his mind. Slowly, like a child caught by a stern teacher, he nodded quickly, desperate to avoid further punishment.
John's expression didn't soften. "Let's clear up some doubts about yesterday's events before we get into your background," he said sharply.
"Was it a coincidence that you went after Daredevil, or was it planned? Nod once for the first, twice for the latter."
Kilgrave didn't hesitate. He nodded twice. He knew he had to make himself useful if he wanted any chance of surviving.
"Was it Kingpin?" John asked, his tone colder now. He didn't need confirmation—he already knew. Daredevil and Punisher's constant interference with Kingpin's operations had made them targets. Kilgrave was just another weapon in the arsenal.
Kilgrave's eyes widened at the question, fear flashing across his face. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he nodded again.
He didn't want to betray Kingpin, knowing the repercussions if he managed to survive this. But survival was the priority. Whatever happened after... that was a problem for another day.
"Why didn't he send Bullseye with them?" Daredevil muttered under his breath, his tone thoughtful but laced with unease.
John stopped, his head tilting slightly as if considering the same question.
"Kingpin isn't the type to take chances," Daredevil continued, his brow furrowing. "Especially not with us. If Kilgrave and the girl weren't enough, Bullseye would've tipped the scales."
Punisher crossed his arms, his voice sharp. "Maybe he's keeping Bullseye for something bigger. Or maybe he thought Kilgrave's tricks were enough to handle us."
"Although this place has been abandoned," John said, his voice calm and measured, "we can still hear a confession."
Punisher and Daredevil exchanged confused glances, but John didn't elaborate. Instead, he turned to Punisher and pointed toward the back corner of the chapel.
"Can you take the shot from there?" he asked, his tone casual but precise.
Punisher's eyes narrowed as he assessed the distance. "Easily," he said, his voice low and confident.
"What are you planning?" Daredevil asked, his brows furrowing as he tried to piece together John's intentions.
John glanced at him, a faint smirk on his face. "Didn't I say I have things you don't know about? That also includes things you've never even heard of."
Without waiting for a reply, John reached into a small pouch strapped to his side.
From inside, he pulled out a camera setup—tripod, microphone, and all.
Punisher's eyes widened slightly. "How the hell did you fit all that in there?" he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Kilgrave's reaction was more pronounced. His eyes darted between the pouch and the equipment, clearly unsettled by the sight.
Even Daredevil, who couldn't see but could sense the sudden shift in the room, tilted his head in confusion. "That's... not normal," he muttered.
John ignored their reactions and calmly began assembling the setup.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone