Whumptober 2024

Tourniquet - Day 22

Song: Tourniquet - Evanescence

The city was alive with its usual chaos, the streets bustling with pedestrians and the distant wail of sirens blending into the ambient noise. I could hear the rush of cars and the chatter of the crowd, but all of it sounded like an endless tunnel — muffled, 

almost surreal.

I tried to kill the pain

But only brought more (so much more)

It was the kind of day that left you feeling invincible, like you could leap tall buildings in a single bound or swing from skyscraper to skyscraper without breaking a sweat.But as I knelt on the concrete with my hand pressed against the seeping wound in my side, I felt anything but invincible.

I lay dying

And I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal

"Peter! Stay with me!" Mary Jane's voice broke through the haze enveloping my mind, sharp and panicked. I tried to focus on her, to reassure her, but the effort felt monumental.

I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming

Am I too lost to be saved?

I could see her from the corner of my eye; the concerned set of her brow, the way her hands trembled as they pressed against the tourniquet. A part of me wanted to laugh at the situation — the spider-slinger reduced to this, bleeding out on the pavement like some wounded animal. Life had a twisted sense of humor, I mused.

Am I too lost?

My God, my Tourniquet

The fight had been brutal, a stark reminder of the price of being Spider-Man. I had confronted the Vulture, an overwhelming force of destruction that took me by surprise despite my usual agility and honed reflexes. A split-second mistake — one wrong flip, one frail moment of doubt — and he had caught me off guard. I could still remember the sound of the impact, a sickening crunch followed by the roar of the crowd as they scattered in absolute terror. What had started as a routine patrol escalated quickly, and now I was paying the price for my overconfidence.

Return to me salvation

My God, my Tourniquet

"Please, just hold on!" MJ insisted, her voice cracking as she tightened the tourniquet. I caught a glimpse of the dark red stain spreading from my side, a slow, ominous reminder that time was slipping away. "When did I become so fragile?" I whispered, my voice hoarse. "You're not fragile," MJ replied, her green eyes wide with fear. "You're a hero, and heroes don't die. Not like this."

Return to me salvation

Do you remember me?

Her conviction stirred something deep within me. I could feel the warmth of her hand over the fabric of my costume, intermingling with the wetness of my blood. I thought about all the people I'd saved, all the lives I'd touched. I didn't want my story to end here, on this grim street in the heart of the city I loved. "We've got to get you to a hospital," she said, urgency coloring her voice.

Lost for so long

Will you be on the other side?

"Not enough time," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the heaviness settling in my limbs, a familiar lethargy tugging at the edges of my consciousness, almost tempting me to surrender. "No! You can't say that!" MJ exclaimed, frustration breaking through her fear. "You're going to fight. You're going to be okay. You can't leave me, Peter."

Or will you forget me?

I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming

I wanted to tell her that I loved her. I wanted to assure her that everything would be alright, that my remaining time coiled tightly like a spring, ready to unfold into future possibilities. But the words caught in my throat, choked by the weight of impending darkness."I'm tired, MJ," I confessed. "Sometimes, it just...it feels like too much."

Am I too lost to be saved?

Am I too lost?

"Don't you dare say that!" she shouted, tears welling up in her eyes. "You're stronger than this. You've faced worse, and you can face this, too!" "Not this time," I murmured, the truth settling heavily in my chest. "Not this time."

My God, my Tourniquet

Return to me salvation

I could feel the pressure in my side grow more intense, a throbbing ache that pulsed with the rhythm of my heart. Blood seeped between my fingers, pooling on the asphalt, a sinister reminder of how fragile life could be. The sirens were getting closer now, but they felt worlds away. "Peter, look at me," Mary Jane said fiercely, locking her gaze onto mine. "You're not going to die here. I refuse to let you go. Fight for me, okay? Think of Aunt May, think of Uncle Ben. Think of everything you've fought for."

My God, my Tourniquet

Return to me salvation

I tried to focus on her words, her urgency breaking through the all-consuming darkness, but the gravity of the moment was pulling me down, down into an abyss I wasn't sure I could escape. "MJ... I..." I wanted to reassure her. But as I looked into her eyes, shining with unshed tears, I felt the truth. I had always fought fiercely, but sometimes, fate had its own agenda — an agenda I couldn't control.

I want to die

My God, my Tourniquet

The world around me was blurring, edges softening, and the echo of sounds fading into a distant whisper. I was losing feeling in my limbs, the pain becoming dull and distant. I was slipping away, and I could feel MJ's hand squeezing mine desperately, as if trying to tether me to this world. "Stay with me, Peter!" she cried, her voice breaking.

Return to me salvation

My God, my Tourniquet

I squeezed her hand back, an echo of strength, but it was feeble. I could sense the weight of certainty settling in. My breaths became shallow, and the images of my life flickered through my mind like the frames of an unfinished film. Swinging through the city, the laughter of my friends, the warmth of Aunt May's hug after a hard day, those special moments with MJ that felt like they would last forever—each passing frame dimming like a flickering light.

Return to me salvation

My wounds cry for the grave

"I love you, MJ," I whispered, each word a shard of my fading consciousness. "I love you too, Peter. Keep fighting! You're not allowed to leave!" she urged desperately.

My soul cries for deliverance

Will I be denied Christ?

But deep down, I realized the fight was over. I had fought to my last breath, and now, as my vision dimmed, I surrendered to the inevitability of death. I let go of the pain, the fear, and the struggle, finding solace in the thought that I had been lucky enough to love and to be loved. In that fleeting moment, I felt a strange sense of peace.

Tourniquet

My suicide

I was Spider-Man, yes, but more than that, I was Peter Parker — a boy who tried to do his best in a world that often didn't offer second chances. My last thought as the darkness enveloped me was a wish that MJ would be okay, that she would find the strength to continue without me. And then, there was nothing but silence, shrouded in a dusk that felt heavy with unspoken goodbyes.

Return to me salvation

Return to me salvation