Look 'bad luck' up in the dictionary. Go on. We'll wait. See there? That picture of an awkward college student tripping over his own feet? That's Peter Parker. He's majoring in chemical engineering, and by some stroke of (you guessed it) bad luck, t...
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Is anyone actually surprised by the title? Something bad always happens to Peter Parker. Yesterday it was finding out that his best friend of almost a decade was now trying to kill him, this morning it was being pushed out a window, and right now it was arriving at his apartment to see it engulfed in flames.
Decked out in his usual Spider-Man attire, Peter swung to the ground and found himself amongst a sea of distressed residents. The flames had consumed the entire building - painting the sky a vibrant red and specking it with embers like tiny stars.
It didn't take long for Peter to deduce that this had been Harry's doing, and suddenly, he was relieved that he had moved any potential targets to an undisclosed location. That still didn't erase the guilt he felt at not predicting Harry destroying an entire apartment block. He should have seen this coming...he should have found some way to stop it. At the very least, he had to make sure that everyone got out safely.
Peter's first instinct was to find the chief firefighter, who was currently directing his men towards the largest influx of flames on the right hand side of the building. He somehow got his attention for long enough to say, "What's the situation?"
"Oh, it's you." The firefighter said, seeming somewhat underwhelmed by the webslinger's presence. "Most of the residents got out before the fire got too bad...but we think the landlord's still stuck on the fifth floor."
Peter's next breath was immediately stolen from his lungs. Mr. Ditkovich was still up there...and it was all his fault. Without waiting for any further information, Spider-Man dashed towards the crumbling structure. It didn't look like it would stay upright for much longer, it was burning like a bonfire set with gasoline. Even the front door was already beyond recognition; paint bubbled on it's exterior, and Peter dared not to touch it directly.
Instead, he aimed a web at the building next door. It hadn't been touched by the flames yet, but the smoke was so thick in the air that everyone within a one mile radius had evacuated their homes.
With all the grace and finesse that most spiders lacked, Peter pulled himself skyward and smashed through the fifth floor window with the soles of his boots. He cringed at the sound of glass shattering around him. He could still feel his body stinging from his last encounter with a window...luckily this time none of the shards managed to puncture his skin.
"Hey!" Spider-Man called into the thick smoke and searing heat. "Is anyone up here?!"
It was hard to hear anything over the intense crackling of each flame that surrounded him, but as he continued forward, he could detect the faintest muffled cry coming from down the hall.
The walls around him screamed in agony, melting and hissing until it threatened to collapse on top of him. Still, Peter didn't waver. He ran as fast as his legs could take him - ignoring the bitter singe of the fire as it lapped at his suit. He could see the left arm of Mr. Ditkovich through the chaos, but the rest of him was buried under a large heap of rubble.
