Somebody save me.
There was a running joke in NYC - or rather outside of it - that to be a resident of NYC, you had to carry a knife. The crime rate was better than it used to be, thanks to the Supers and people like Gwen's dad, but the city was still one of the biggest crime hubs, especially for stabbing.Â
The numbers ran through Gwen's head as she lay in the alley a few blocks from Oscorp, blood blossoming over her blouse in bright red blotches. She had stayed too late at work, something Harry was always chiding her for. As a result she was walking to the subway in the dark. While the city didn't sleep, it did grow quite dark in patches. Dark enough for someone to hide near the subway entrance, to jump out and grab her without being seen.Â
Gwen's father had taught her at a very young age what to do if someone tried to kidnap her, or worse. He never told her how different it was in person compared to in her living room. Gwen struck out, aiming for the man's nose. She could tell it was a man, his build taller than hers.Â
It was too fast, the cold steel of the knife slipping between her bottom ribs. Her purse ripped from her shoulder as she sunk to the ground, completely dazzed.Â
Thankfully her phone was in her pocket and not her purse. Gwen winced as she reached for it, dialing Peter on her speeddial. Her hands were shaking, her breathing coming in gasps. Mom, she had to call Mom...
"Peter-" Gwen gasped as she thought she heard him pick up, "15th and Broad-Broadway..."















