Plumbing Kills two

He was still musing on this when he tripped over an unseen pipe in the dark around his feet.

He pitched forward, yelping a half-surprised, half-terrified bark as he went sprawling. Or he should have went sprawling. Instead, he fell past the floor, into a yawning, open pit of a pipe, the slick, oozing sides plunging down at a sharp angle. He screamed, trying to grab something to stop or slow himself, but the walls were oozing and thick, his downward slide gaining speed. His dimming flashlight showing a seemingly endless tunnel stretching off below him. He slid, and slid, a scum of stinking, smooth ooze sticking to his clothes and skin.

The tube twisted, banging him against the wall as he followed it, his flashlight jittering and starting to flicker. Panic slammed down like a fist, Two grabbing the light and trying to keep it still, pleading with it, staring at the lamp bulb as it dimmed more and more. It surged a moment, then flickered out, the darkness pressing to his eyes like cloth, the Agent slipping down faster and faster, screaming until he was hoarse, screaming until his throat bled, screaming even as he passed well beyond the physical boundaries of that tangled web of pipes.

Days later, when his skin started to shred off, it was almost welcome.