WHO: Clark Wayne and Tim Martin. WHAT: Remember how he keeps telling people that causing things to burst into flame is a security risk? Whoops. WHEN: Early evening. WHERE: Just outside of the security office. RATING: C for CLARK IS CLUMSY AND HAS WEIRD POWERS.
While more and more of his security team seemed interested in evacuating the building and abandoning their roles, Clark found that he was incapable of doing so. There was far too much going on; there were far too many people at risk. Maybe he was insane, but there was just something about the idea of leaving while people kept being attacked that made him feel terrible on the inside. Clark couldn't leave. Not until this mess was over. When everyone was safe and the deaths were finally finished, he would focus on taking some time to himself. Heck, maybe he'd take a week or two off for the sake of his sanity. Until then, Clark was dedicating himself to the job. No one was going to die again. He wouldn't let it happen. It couldn't happen. Not while he was around to stop it. He wasn't what one would call a ghost expert, but Clark had done what he could to make sure that he was properly armed against the strange figures that kept popping up around the building. He had an iron club (one that he borrowed from his cousin, who was a cop) pinned to his belt, along with a pouch of salt. Both items made Clark feel incredibly ridiculous, but it was better to look a fool than die as one.
He had covered his routine check on the first handful of floors and was moving back to the security area to take a quick look at the cameras when Clark felt it. The "it" in question was a sudden drop in temperature so strong that when Clark breathed out, he was able to see his own breath in the air. Frowning, Clark began to turn, when something even colder than the shift in the air wrapped itself around him and began to squeeze itself around him. It almost felt like someone was trying to strangle him...but the grip didn't feel strong enough to actually make Clark lose his oxygen. It was a strong grip, without a doubt - it just wasn't strong enough. Tuning wildly, Clark swiped at the air. The grip faded slightly, but the cold feeling did not. It intensified more and more, until Clark spotted something flicker out of the corner of his eye. He turned quick, reached for the club at his side, and the wall opposite him suddenly burst into flame as a streak of fire erupted from his eyes and struck at the wall violently. Yelping, Clark stumbled back and jerked his gaze to the right, the stream of flame suddenly bursting alive along the surface of a desk that one of his co-workers had been moving out of their office.
Clark didn't look anywhere else after that. Instead, he covered his eyes with both hands and shoved himself back into the wall. Unfortunately, that wall didn't know what it had been in for, because as soon as Clark's shoulders slammed into it the entire wall gave way and Clark toppled straight into the next room.