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
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