Cheek on the floor, mouth full of concrete and blood, three broken ribs, and his left leg won’t move.
Frank Castle shoves him in the shoulder, barks, “RED!” and Matt’s centre of gravity spins so far out of whack there’s no use focusing.
He’s churning as much as the air, so his perception is clouded to shit.
He’s really, truly blind, and his cheek is on the floor, he spits blood out of his mouth; it hurts when he breathes, and his left leg still won’t move no matter how much he pulls.
He kicks with his right leg. The motion is slow, weighted, because the blood’s running too thick and too much in his veins.
His leg stops moving, but it takes forever for his nerves to communicate with his brain.
First, that there’s something under his right foot; second, that there’s something on top of his left leg.
Matt pulls: hard. Heat prickles below his left knee in warning, but he doesn’t give up until the sickening drowse of shock sends his head back onto the concrete.
Read the rest via the link in the description!