[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/OGg5bWf.png[/img][/center] [color=Gold]"Anyone--[i]*coughcough*[/i]--anyone still up here?"[/color] I call out, my voice barely audible over the roar of the flames, the crumbling of wood and masonry. My eyes are watering and my lungs are burning from the thick black smoke that makes it almost impossible to see. Since the whole place is comin' down anyway, I'm not exactly careful when I run into a wall or a door, and I crash through them without much of a care. Looks like that pale-ass undead fella was good to his word- I'm not seeing anyone else up here, an' I don't see any evidence he hurt anybody. Still, I wanna be thorough while I'm up here; gettin' left in a burning building's a bad way to go. Not to mention leavin' a civilian in harm's way would be bad for H4H's rep. Better make damn sure the coast is clear before I-- [color=Gold]"G'ahhhh!"[/color] I yelp as what look like a pair of hairy brown hands drop down from the ceiling and onto my face. I'm just about to bring my hands up and crush them before I realize it's 'Mister Mittens,' that kid's stupid tarantula. [color=Gold]"I swear,"[/color] I growl as I stomp towards the fire exit at the end of the hall, holding the big hairy spider in my hands--not tight enough to hurt the bug but just enough so it can't get away again, [color=Gold]"When this is over, you an' me are gonna have ourselves a--"[/color] The floorboards creak underneath my feet, in a real un-assuring kind of way. [color=Gold]"....awwww, shit,"[/color] I manage, as the creaks become cracks, and the cracks become a deafening crash. The floor gives out from under me, and I fall. And I fall. And I fall. And I fall. The whole damn building starts comin' down, and I get bounced around like a pinball in the debris. I go ass-over-head again and again, smashing into concrete beams and smashing through rebar. Everything's fire and rubble and smoke and dust and so much noise, an' the only thing I can focus on is keepin' this stupid goddamn tarantula from gettin' smashed by all of it. Eventually, the falling and the tumbling and the crashing come to a stop. I'm so spun around I can't tell which way is up...until a piece of old iron pipe [i]clangs[/i] against the back of my head, and I decide that 'up' is where all this shit keeps fallin' on me from. That helps me get my bearings, and I start digging myself out. [color=Gold]"Well, we couldn't save the building,"[/color] I mutter as I dig with one hand, keeping Mister Mittens gently but firmly in my grasp with the other, [color=Gold]"so [i]at best[/i] I'm only gettin' paid half rate for this gig. Still, could be worse- don't think we lost anybody, human or arachnid. So an ugly win's still a win."[/color] Once I get enough of myself dug out from the rubble that I can push with my legs, I climb out into the pitch-dark of what must be some kinda sub-basement. Funny, the floor plans the landlord gave me for Spring Water Flats didn't include any sub-levels... [color=Gold]"Ahhh hell,"[/color] I grumble as I pull out my phone and see the screen is completely shattered. So much for that protective case Danny was insistent I spent the extra money on. [color=Gold]"Guess I'll have to wait til I get back to the office to check the files. Still, maybe the flashlight still works. I'd like to at least be able to see where the hell I am."[/color] After a few moments of dumbly fumbling around with the sad remains of my phone, I somehow manage to get the flashlight going. [color=Gold]"Now what's going on down here,"[/color] I wonder, [color=Gold]"I just got done shakin' down one shady-ass landlord. If I gotta do it again, I'm gonna be--..."[/color] The flashlight's beam catches a couple of big red plastic objects. Gas cans. So much for this bein' a case of faulty wiring. Someone burned this place down on purpose. Bringing the beam around the rest of the sub-basement, I start to see why. [color=Gold]"Sweet Christmas...."[/color] Having spent plenty of time on both sides of the law, I've seen my fair share of drug labs. Enough to know the difference between a couple of rednecks cooking in the back of their trailer and a professional operation. And enough to know the difference between someone trying to make a new kind of high, and someone trying to make some real serious shit. Most of the lab equipment has been burned or wrecked, and there's plenty of empty spaces along the walls, shelves, and counters. Whoever was in here, they must have left in too much of a hurry to leave without a trace, so they grabbed whatever they could take with them an' then torched everything else. What's left of it, though, is way above the pay grade of your average drug operation. I see a few uncomfortably familiar logos on the scorched machinery. Oscorp. Roxxon. Advanced Idea Mechanics. Even some Stark Industries equipment-- hell, I think I recognize some of this stuff from Dr. Burnstein's experiments that gave me my powers. [color=Gold]"Damn,"[/color] I say under my breath, [color=Gold]"This is some big league shit, Mister Mittens. Whatever these guys were workin' on, we're gonna need to find it an' shut it down. 'cause this is the exact sorta thing that might just cause half the damn city to...."[/color] My flashlight catches something in the middle of a pile of charred wreckage. A broken shard of something, something....orange.... [color=Gold]"...explode..."[/color] The perp doused this whole place in gas to burn it. But he didn't just use a match to start the fire. That shard right there, and the other bright orange shards around it... ...that's a Pumpkin Bomb.