Craig Pierre, Jr.

I stood on the sideline with the rest of the defense with me. I just needed a moment to take stock of the situation. My team was down by seven points. The score was 35-28 in the fourth quarter. We used our second to last timeout to stop the clock at the two minute mark. The ball was spotted on the goal line. Our job was to stop the other team from scoring. Our job was simple… on paper. But it was a huge ask. We were the away team. We were the ones getting jeered and booed by a stadium full of raucous fans who had pride in their school's football team. Could anyone blame them, though? They were ranked among the Top 25 in the nation and they were playing like it during the first half. They were beating us down in every single way, with the score being 35-zip when halftime rolled around.

Everyone watching the game, whether in person or over the air, probably expected more of the same when the second half started. That wasn't the case. Our coach got on us in the locker room. I guess what he said lit a fire underneath all of us. We came out a totally different team, firing on all cylinders. We clawed our way back. We were supposed to get blown out. But I felt the nervousness from the opposing team and the fans in the stands. They thought things were sweet, but the fear of an upset was in the air. I wanted to enjoy the feeling. I couldn't, though. On this last drive, our opponent's offense started to come alive again and managed to march it down the field on us. We got our act together, and for the first three downs, we managed to keep them from scoring. But, like I said, the ball was on the goal line. If they scored, any chance of us winning this game would've went out the window with a quickness.

"A'ight, listen!" I yelled out as I turned around and faced my teammates. I didn't want to yell at them, but it was just that loud in the stadium. "Right now, we're down by one TD. All week, we've seen people online and on TV talkin' 'bout how we were going to get steamrolled for a check. And for the first half, they were right. But look at the score now! Everything they thought about us is wrong. We ain't done yet, though! They're basically a millimeter away from scoring. We can't have that happen! They score, we ain't winning this game! We stop them, the offense got a chance to tie or win it. We need to make sure they don't score! I don't care how it happens. We just need to make a play without getting flagged for something stupid. I'm not here for the moral victory. I'm here for a real Dub. And for that to happen, we need to do what we've been doing this entire half. A'IGHT?!"

"A'IGHT!" they yelled back. I smiled as I put on my helmet.

"Let's do it!" We all jogged our way out on the field. All eleven of us had a purpose – to make a stop. I took in a breath to center myself as I put my mouth guard in before I took my position on the field. As the offense of the team facing us got into formation, I looked at their personnel. I saw three tight ends, one wide receiver, and two running backs lined up in an Offset I. As the free safety, linebackers, and cornerbacks made their calls, I started to creep in a little closer. We were all expecting a run play. We listened to the quarterback's cadence. And few seconds later, one of the tight ends stood straight up before he split away.

"ADJUST!" the free safety yelled out.

Without saying a word, I quickly ran over and lined up across from the tight end. It was during this time I noticed the haze in the air. I didn't think anything of it. My focus was strictly on the player standing opposite of me. I just waited for the ball to be snapped. Given how tall this tight end was – he was about six foot seven, if I remembered the scouting report – they were probably going to throw it up into the corner of the end zone. That was going to be a battle for me.

The ball was snapped. I backpedaled as the tight end ran forward. I was about ready to commit until I got a glimpse of the running back running a wheel route towards my direction. And no one was covering him. The quarterback was about ready to throw.

I had a decision to make.

Do I stick with the tight end?

Do I go after the running back?

Do I risk it all and go for the interception?

I wanted to play it safe. I really did. But I saw daylight. If I got the interception…

Deciding to go for broke, I stopped backpedaling and ran forward past the tight end. The quarterback threw a bullet towards the running back as I ran as fast I could. I didn't have much margin for error. I brought my hands out. The ball bounced off of them. As the ball moved forward, I brought my hands out again and grabbed it out of the air. As I secured the ball, I put on the afterburners. The quarterback tried to cut me off. However, as he dove for my legs, I hurdled over him and kept on going. I had tunnel vision. The only thing on my mind was scoring. Oddly, the haze got thicker. I didn't care, though. With the players on my sideline cheering me on, I kept on running. I was so focused that even the crowd's noises were being tuned out.

After what seemed like the longest 90-something yards I ever ran, I reached the end zone. After crossing the goal line, I turned and fell onto my back. I was gassed. As I tried to fix my breathing, it slowly sunk in. We cut the deficit to one. We could send the kicker out to tie the game or even go for two and take the lead. I smiled. My folks back home were probably loved see what I just did.

My smile faded when I saw the haze in the air start to thicken. My eyes moved around in confusion. Making things even more odd to me is that field around me was bathed in orange light that moving back and forth. I smelled the air and…

Wait… that's smoke!

I tried to get up. All of a sudden a pain ripped through my whole body. I closed my eyes as I yelled out in agony. I then opened my eyes.

I was no longer on the field. I was in some kind of building with fire all around. Even the ceiling was burning. A burning chunk actually fell from it and towards my face. Pain be damned, I rolled out of the way, just avoiding the piece of burning debris. I clenched my mouth shut as I forced myself to stand.

"How did I end up here?" I said to myself through the gritted teeth.

It took me a moment to remember. Then it all came back to me.

It all came back to me.

The tip that led me to this place.

The stash that was filled with fake money, white sand, and Tic Tacs.

That being of fire that got the drop on me.

That same being standing over me and going on their motive rant.

And them leaving me to die by the fire they started because they wanted to send a message to Peter, explicitly saying Spider-Man's real first name before knocking me out.

"I need to tell the others." I looked around. I was almost completely surrounded by flames. "…I need to get out of here. But… how?" I stepped up to the door and touched the door knob. I yelp as I pulled my hand away. As I shook my hand, I sneered. "…Welp, that didn't help." I looked for a window. I found one. I walked up to it and… of course, there was a fire outside of it, too. "Oh, she better hope I die from this." I sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't put that out there in the universe."

I took a moment to think. If I was going to get out of here, I probably wasn't going to be in the best of shape. So, I pulled out my phone. Realizing I was using my actual phone instead of a burner, I sighed. I couldn't be open about the message I was sending. After taking a moment to look up something online, I sent two texts to Buford. First, I sent him my location. After that, I sent him a text with a short string of letters, numbers, and a symbol.

B/W 135.

After that, I put my phone in my pocket, took off my hoodie, and tossed it into the flames. I had to make sure they didn't find any traces of Frictor.

"Okay," I said. I groaned as I walked backwards away from the window. "I gotta get ready for this." I took in a breath. I was prepared to jump through the window. "Let's do this. One… Two…"

I didn't get a chance to get to three. There was an explosion behind me. All I remembered was the agonizing burning sensation around my whole body as I was blown forward before I lost consciousness as hitting the window.