Coughing up blood, he slumps against the dirty alleyway wall, clutching at his side. With a a shaky hand, he brings a bloodied cigarette up to his lips. Shit. Coughs-weakly and spits some blood to the side, leaning back on the wall with a grunt. Shit. They got me good.

Clutches at his wound, slumping over with a stagger when he notices you staring at him. The hell you lookin' at kid?