The Owl

“Some punk-ass vigilante dresses up like an OWL, and you’re scared!?” he yells into the phone. “I OWN the cops!”

A strong, unseen hand grips the mob boss’ shoulder. Another takes the phone and hangs it up.

“You can’t buy my justice,” a voice behind him says.

Copyright © by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

Discover more of my Aethereal Musings.

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