Something... someone... grabbed Richie's ankle, sending him sprawling into the tar face first. A jet black hand made of tar had a vice like grip on his leg and was dragging him into the growing depths of the tar.
A thud drew his attention forward. Kneeling at a squat, just out of reach, was Higgs. His Golden Skull mask looked down at Richie with emotionless contempt, the deep black wells for eyes boring into his. The glowing red tank on his chest gave the tar and the corridor a deep and ominous red glow. Silently, painfully slowly, the man raised a single finger in front of the skull masks mouth.
"Richie, Richie, Richie. If you keep shouting like that your friends are going to show up and then I might have to do something..." he grinned, his voice dripping with amusement. "Drastic." The tar continued to rise, sucking at Richie's arms and legs.
"What are you doing alone, Richie? Don't you know there's a dangerous man about?"