#deadjacuzzi

“Hey, shock you, bithead!” Miguel threw his hands up, making a few rude gestures towards the anti-mutant protesters who’d practically shoved him into the streets. None of them seemed overtly interested in him, with only one turning around to flip him off as he walked away. It was because he was in his civvies, Miguel knew. If he’d been out as Spider-Man, he probably would’ve gotten a few punches thrown his way by idiots too far up their own asses to know that Spider-Man was decidedly not a mutant. 

Continuing to mumble under his breath, Miguel shoved his hands into his pockets and walked down the street, jaw tightly clenched. Things were getting worse and worse, and this --- This wasn’t sustainable. He knew that.

A rustling in the alley caught his attention as he walked by, and he paused. Too big to be a raccoon or a rat, and tilting his head to the side allowed him to catch a few muttered curses between the movements. Quickly, he ducked into the alley to investigate. “Hey,” he called out, “somebody in here?” The stench of it hit him as soon as he got close --- blood. Miguel faltered, looking down at the concrete. There was a lot of it. So much of it that Miguel wasn’t sure what he was looking for --- a person, or a body. “Holy shock,” he murmured, carefully stepping around the puddle of blood to move deeper into the alley. “Hey, anybody in here? Uh... preferably alive?”