She's never seen so much blood before, not even on herself that time. Though she's scared, even a little panicked right now, she's absolutely ANGRY. I hate you, Jonathan Crane. I hope you DIE.

"Oh God, Izzy!" Somehow, her limbs actually work and she rips off her jacket to use something to control the bleeding. She's on autopilot now, too worried about the bleeding to call out to Michael just yet.

Running to her side, she takes a quick look at the cut -- it's deep and bad. Pressing the jacket over the cut, she doesn't know what to ask first. "What happened? Who did this?"