The wind howled like wolves chasing down their prey, accompanied with the bone-chilling wind that neglected to show any signs of letting up, the fog-like breaths of rooftop sentries could be seen. "F-fuck man, it's cold....how long is the boss makin' us stand guard anyway?" A voice asked, the one who projected the words seemed to be a man in his mid twenties, a single scar going down the right side of his face from his forehead to the corner of his lip, likely a result of being on the wrong side of the law. Though the police wouldn't do this, there were too few of them to deal with these types of criminals, with officers spread thin there wasn't much they could manage to do but sit in the precinct as the carnage ensued. "I don't know, why don't ya go ask'em?" Another said, the two stood a good six feet from one another, both held rifles in hand, selector switches set to fire, ready for anyone stupid enough to try and pick a fight with them. The two men were dressed in identical outfitting, black hoodies with a kevlar undershirt that had apparently defective thermal fibers weaved into it, a half mask concealing the faces of the men. Farther away from the scene that would prompt eminent danger for unaware bystanders, a lone figure had geared up in the safety of his home, pulling on the famed, grey web patterned body suit the people of Second City had come to know as his efforts were made known. Crawling from his second story window he ascended to the rooftop, quickly firing a string of webbing from his gauntlet, the end sticking to a building, allowing him to propel himself forward at an angle, allowing him to slingshot himself into the cold air, his fingertips just barely gracing a building he was speeding past, halting his move as his index and middle finger stuck, the friction non-existent as he stuck to the building, allowing him to look around and get his bearings for a moment. The wall crawling vigilante scanned around the area, the multiple vision settings switching as he went back and forth before stopping at infra-red, seeing two humanoid shapes. Carefully timing the iterations between web swings he sent himself toward both been standing within a few feet of each other, sharp bone protrusions extended from the height of his forearm, a strange clear liquid running off of the tips, venom. The two men were completely unaware of the web-slinging vigilante barreling toward them until it was too late, a minor glimpse of what looked like to them, speartips before they plunged into their chest cavities, piercing through the breastplate as if it were butter. The bone 'fangs' retracted back with a hushed wisp-like sound, moving toward the fire escape he gained entry through the rooftop, the room was low light, upon closer inspection he saw they were shattered, holes pierced through the shade, bullets. The air smelled stagnant and of copper, blood, he silently dropped down to the ground, a squelching sound sounding beneath his feet causing him to quickly lift his foot and look beneath him, disgusted at the sight. Displaced limbs and a sliced up torso, closer inspection showed there were bite marks as well, like an animal had gone through here and killed them all with the help of someone with a sword or something. This was just strange, someone came through here and wiped out this entire building, but left the two on the rooftop as what, someone to see the example this mystery man or woman set? "No no, please, d-don't you!" A terrified voice shouted out, desperation was evident within this man's words, criminal or not this man's life was going to be taken by someone else, he couldn't allow that. The arachnid avenger raced toward the door, bashing it open, only to find the man's throat slashed open, blood spurting from the wound, painting the wall behind him as well as the desk in front of him. Taking steps closer to the man, he could hear how his heart struggled to continue beating, speeding up and slowing down as he looked up at the wall cralwer, wide eyed and full of fear, a yellow note dotted with blood on his chest, kneeling down he picked up said note. A jagged smiley face was crudely drawn on it, though this man was obviously less than happy, one of the vigilante's fangs shot out from his forearm, piercing into the man's heart, a mercy kill to end his pain. Now he had a death note, basically goading him into finding who this butcher was, he had a new mission now.