I'm working on Marvel's Spider-Man in American comics.

Chapter 596 Unknown Massacre
In the Appalachian Mountains of West Virginia, a car drives along a mountain highway, the driver munching on a burrito while listening to the classic "Take Me Home, Country Road."

It was nearing dusk, but the sky was still bright. The setting sun was slowly sinking in front of him, slightly dazzling his eyes.

Suddenly, he seemed to see something, then squinted his eyes to observe it carefully, and then breathed a sigh of relief.

Judging from its appearance, it is a moose sitting on the ground.

These behemoths are not uncommon in the Appalachian Mountains, and generally, as long as you don't provoke them, you won't encounter any trouble. The driver had essentially decided to speed up and drive over.

The moose seemed wary of the steel monster passing by, staring intently at the car. The driver felt something was off about the deer, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Suddenly, as if something had struck him, the driver nearly choked to death on the chicken roll because of his own assumption. He frantically slumped over the steering wheel, staring intently at the moose that was getting closer and closer, only a few dozen meters away.

There's no mistake, this isn't a moose at all! Although its antlers look like a moose, its fur looks like a moose, and it resembles a moose in every way, there's just one thing it doesn't look like.

eye.

Normally, moose, and most herbivores in general, have their eyes located on the sides of their heads to gain sufficient vision and avoid predators. But this moose is different; its eyes are more like a wolf's, located on the front of its face, staring straight ahead like a predator.

No, although they were still pure black eyes, they felt more like human eyes.

He could feel a heavy weight pressing on his stomach, and the hairs on his neck stood on end. He sensed a kind of extraordinary wisdom in this deer that was not a deer.

The driver immediately floored the gas pedal and sped past the deer. He felt as if he had just survived something terrifying, and then couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Then he heard some distorted, woman's crying sounds.

For some reason, the sound made him feel nauseous. As he drove, he tried to pinpoint the source of the sound, and then he realized it was coming from behind him. Driven by something unknown, the driver looked in the rearview mirror.

He saw the deer stand up. Swaying, it revealed its body, which had been mostly eaten away by something. As the deer's entrails swayed inside its torn body, it took a step.

The deer's legs seemed to have more joints than normal; they weren't normal, but rather formed a kind of inverted structure with more joints. The deer ran towards him, but due to the bizarre structure of its limbs, it didn't run like a deer, but rather crawled like a spider, twisting and turning.

The deer whimpered and ran, startling the driver so much that he sped up and seemed to quickly leave the area where the strange deer was. The driver couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, but then the strange noises started again.

Could it be that the monster is still following me?

The driver didn't know, and he didn't dare look in the rearview mirror, even if he did, he didn't see any similar animals. But then, the driver realized that the monsters weren't behind him, but in front of him.

He drove onto a road with a cliff on one side, and on the other side, one strange deer after another crawled out from the cliff.

They were howling, they were shouting. Their eyes, which were lodged in front of them, were staring at the driver; their bodies were mangled and broken, like zombies.

They opened their mouths, but what were clearly deer mouths were full of sharp teeth. Then one of the deer jumped off the cliff and landed on the hood of the car.

Amidst the screams, the driver saw viscous biomass writhing from the deer's gaping mouth, and he lost control, causing the car to crash off the cliff.

The next day, forest rangers in the Appalachian Mountains received a report from a passing vehicle that a car had plunged off a cliff and the driver had died at the bottom of the mountain. They rushed to the scene in their patrol cars. "These people don't even know where to die, they have to die in this godforsaken place."

The older police officer in charge asked the young man who had vomited all over the ground, "What did you find?"

"Thank goodness we didn't find anything. It's terrible. The whole thing was stuck in the tree stump, as if its head had been wiped out by something."

The old policeman couldn't help but cover his nose and sighed helplessly. In their view, the case couldn't be clearer: a person died in a car accident, and even his head was gone, that was all.

As for other things, they were not within their scope of consideration.

"Speaking of which, Ryan, have you heard of a legend that's been circulating in the mountains lately, called 'The Non-Deer'?"

After hearing about this, the old policeman was only confused: "What on earth is that thing?"

So the new policeman started chattering away and began telling the story.

Meanwhile, Cletus and Carnage were enjoying a rare treat; they had hardly eaten anything decent since moving to this place.

Until now, this unlucky driver happened to pass by and handed over his head.

Countless strange deer stood up around them; these deer were all controlled by Cletus, or more precisely, by Carnage. During his escape, Carnage had learned how to create his own puppets, greatly enhancing his power.

Thanks to this, Cletus had an even bigger, more ambitious, and more outrageous plan.

He wanted to convey his aesthetics to everyone's heart, he mumbled as he chewed on the driver's head.

"More, children, more..."

The surrounding deer scattered like birds and beasts, continuing to spread throughout the Appalachian Mountains. Meanwhile, Cletus pondered his next objective.

What's next? Pollute the water source? Or test your infectivity on a couple of idiots first?

A few days later, Cletus, who had been hiding, suddenly chuckled.

As the deer herd spread, he discovered a beef cattle farm and slaughterhouse dozens of kilometers away. The owner of the farm was operating illegally, grinding up the leftover beef scraps after slaughtering and then feeding them into the feed for other cattle.

This means that if he infected just one or two of the cattle, those cattle would then spread rapidly through cross-infection, and then, along with the American diet of medium-rare, medium, or even rare steaks and various canned beef, it would spread throughout the United States.

Even the whole world!

"And at that time, every corner of the world will be a scene of slaughter!"

(End of this chapter)