The Composer's Disguise

The woman sits before the TV
A frown across her brow
All kinds of news and footage
From just the day before

She starts and leans when images come
Of the Phantom racing quick
He wore a blackened mask so fine
And some odd made armor

They said he helped in rescues made
Of many buried deep
But in the clips he'd seemed to lean
And favor just one leg

She started when the debtor came
Notebook in his hand
dHe glared at the TB screen
And handed her the pad

A person was so carefully drawn
One set in disguise
She wore a warrior's old fashioned gown
The hood around her face

It was her costume for her exploits
The debtor had designed
He said if they were to make her known
She must be made to be remembered

"Besides, he notes, the day must come
The Phantom will know of you
Fight like him and then perhaps
He'll know you fight together."


Next Week: Music of Comfort

Losing

The Phantom acts immediately
Disguise thrown in place
The explosions had to go off by remote
So only one place could he be

Leaping 'cross speeding cars
He races for the place
Midst cries and moans and devastation
He makes it halfway there

The Flight leaps out and tackles the man
Rolling him to seclusion
A gun shot wound goes to his leg
Before he can react

The PHantom rises prepared to fight
The Flight does just the same
A battle quick and pain riddled
Neither won this time

A blade in his shoulder the Flight grins again
"You're losing." he says quietly
Backup arrives but he's gone away
Leaving his foe in the dust.


Next Week: The Composer's Disguise

First Blow

The Flight is thorough, always was
He plans so far ahead
That the Phantom'd check his old hideouts
He had long since known

The fool's phone rings, he answers quick
The Flight's voice intercedes
He whispers two most deadly words
"Watch out." The line goes dead

Moments pass and across the city
Explosions thunder fast
Fire, smoke, everything
Shatters in the air

Hundreds burned, countless killed
In less then fifteen seconds
In distant shadows the Flight just smiles
And fades into the dark

The entire city shakes and shudders
At the Flight's first blow
No hiding now, it's all begun
All will know it now.


Next Week: Losing

Flashback

A younger man holds high a mask
Freshly made for him
Sculpted to fit his features perfect
But to hide them just as well

A friend stands by and looks as well
Uncertain what to say
He asks again if he is sure
He's doing what he should

The holder of the mask looks on
Silent for awhile
Soon he moves and gestures at
The city outside the window

"For those who can, we must always,"
He quotes his long passed father
"Stand by the side of those without."
That's why he made his mask

Three years past the Phantom awakes
Shivering in the heat
He'd made that choice so long ago
So very long ago.


Next Week: First Blow

New Discovery

Not long were they home then a panic arose
Echoed just down the block
Still shrouded in muck the woman leapt out
To punish the druggies out there

She returned in a rage with blood in the mud
Outnumbered five to one
She'd barely got to make her point
When they beat her just the same

The debtor laughed and helped her wash
Teasing her forthwith
But she shouldn't feel bad, why even the Phantom
Must've struggled at first

The woman doesn't understand at all
And asks him to explain
Who was this Phantom and what did he
Have to do with her?

The debtor smiled and said that he's
The Savior of the city
He rose from dust three years before
Much like she's doing now

Intrigued the woman listens to
The tales of this strange Phantom
But the debtor slows and softly speaks
Of the conquer of the Flight

So the Phantom was the one who had
Driven him to them
The woman was unsure how to feel
Towards this strange Phantom.


Next Week: Flashback

The Beginnings

Coated once again in muck

She ducks behind a bin

Musical warning moves from her mouth

Tempting any thugs

In silence like a graveyard

She walked all through the town

Waiting for shadows to follow her

But none would come this time

Petty mongrels traipsed around

And sneered at sight of her

But none came near for long a time

Till someone grabbed her arm

The debtor pulled her form all eyes

And looked her up and down

He notes she cannot roam about

In nothing but this grime

Not only that, he was but a man

Yet he caught her well

Yes she was brave and mighty skilled

But there was room to learn

He brought her home to clean herself 

For they had work to do

A hero they wanted her to be

And so they'd make her be.


Next Week: New Discovery

The Truth of the Spoils

A dead man's list was written clear
In order's from the Flight
The Phantom checked them over twice
To search for some connection

Spread across the city they were
Strong and able men
Men with families to care for still
Their deaths would raise a panic

No sooner was this discovery made
Then another summons was sent
The Flight's own man was speaking up
A must peculiar tale

To the police's side the masked man flies
The suspect's in the question room
He speaks of his recruitment
It wasn't of his choice

His family was in the gypsy camp
The Flight had overcome
His spoils was the one who had escaped
Who could destroy his will.


Next Week: The Beginnings

Old Hideout

In the darkness the Phantom waits
Outside a sewer pot
A sound detector he held still above it
Listn'ing so carefully

Muffled voices speak carelessly
Of all successes past
And of those to come so soon they say
The Phantom grits his teeth

One cries he needs a smoke
And some fresher air
The Phantom hears him climb the ladder
And open up the hideout

Invisible, the Phantom waits
Until the passage is closed
Then he attacks and grabs the man
It's time to get some answers

With angry shakes and violent voice
He scares the man to speak
He cries the Flight recruited them
To make a mess of things

He didn't know what the Flight's plan was
Or what his spoils were
He only knew his mission was
To kill a special way

The Phantom threw the man aside
No use was he to him
He barged in the hideout and beat all the men
To have a look around

A TV here, a beer can there
A den of swine it was
But ripe with what he needed, yes
Ripe with evidence

Hidden away in a place so tight
Were orders from the man
The Phantom took them for his own
The cops could have the rest.


Next Week: The Truth of the Spoils

The First Death

An unknowing stranger strolls through the streets
Feasting on deadly food
He stops in an alley to take a call
The very last call he'd take

A whisper and a breeze startle him now
He looks but finds no one there
He's about to hang up, getting nervous
But was much too slow this time

Out of no where came a speeding figure
Knife held high in his hand
It pierces the stranger clean through the heart
Leaving a corpse and a note

A worried friend calls the police
The note is found and quick concealed
As soon as he can, he delivers to the phantom
For to him it was addressed

"Dear old friend, have you missed my work?
I'll leave you much to do
This is the first of many quick deaths
Unless you return me my spoils."

The Phantom's confused as are the police
The Flight has been gone for so long
In all that time they could never once
Take anything from him.


Next Week: Old Hideout

Stories Shared

The woman woke in bedsheets warm
Clean and rested well
She sat up fast to prepare to leave
But found she wouldn't yet

The debtor sat at a modest table
Eating a luscious breakfast
He welcomed her to join him too
She had to ask him why

He laughs and says he owes her much
As he owes so many
He hopes through service of this saint
He'll even out the score.

Through his confession he asks one of her
What made her want to help
She bowed her head for a solemn tale
At least it was to her

Her life was spent at a gypsy camp
Travl'ling through the slums
But soon a man took hold of them
He called himself the Flight

She'd seen so much at his cruel hands
She'd escaped to find things new
But found this place was just as scarred
As what she'd left behind

She wanted to know if it all could end
So she took her first step
The debtor smiled and shook her hand
She wouldn't do it alone.


Next Week: The First Death

The Flight

The Phantom's lair beneath the earth
A frigid hideaway
A fool enters, the shadow leaves
Invisible again

The threat was simple, no big deal
But it was signed "The Phantom"
A call and summons to the hidden man
One he'd had before.

The masked man arrives forthwith
A friend has met him there
An odd occurrence from a vanished foe
Is now made known to him

He called himself the Flight, he did
For quick and lithe he was
But the Phantom won him long ago
Now he's come again

With vengeance hot and bubbling
He'll return so soon
Foretold blood on the Phantom's hands
The fire is drawing closer.


Next Week: Stories Shared