Swooped | ✓

Chapter 14: Night Owls

"Wh-What are you doing?" Felix stammered, stumbling backwards in panic as the masked man stepped forward. His hands were in his pockets, which shook with agitation. His eyes looked around frantically, red-rimmed and startled. From the skin not covered by the mask, he looked ashen and pale, with dark shadows under his eyes. The man's shaking got more erratic when he pulled out one of his hands, which wasn't empty, instead brandishing a rather pathetic looking pocket knife.

Pathetic, but definitely intimidating when it was pointed at you. Felix's eyes widened, and his whole body began shaking like a leaf, scrambling back. He let out a yelp when his back hit the trunk of the towering tree behind him, head shaking frantically.

"Please don't," Felix said, voice quiet, barely able to get the words out through the fear clogging his throat like tar. "I-I don't have any money. Please."

"Don't lie to me," the man with the knife spat, voice cutting like broken glass. His shaking got bigger, and he looked mildly deranged. "Give me your phone, wallet and watch and I won't hurt you." The man waved his knife around, Felix letting out a choked noise as he fumbled in his pockets, pulling out his phone. 

"N-Not my watch, please," Felix whispered, knees bumping together with how much he was shaking. "It's from my b-brother."

"I don't give a fuck about your brother. Give it!" the man said harshly, voice grating as he darted forward. 

Heck no.

It was when the man latched onto Felix's wrist that I pulled the neck of my turtleneck over my mouth, swooping down from the tree I was perched on. Felix and the mugger's faces both turned as they noticed a large, black mass hurtling at them from their periphery, and the mugger let out a shriek of surprise as I flipped in the air, kicking him in the rib. The force wrenched his hand off Felix, who stood frozen, eyes bigger than the full moon hanging above us.

The masked man's body went flying across the dirt, rolling a few times in a such a comical way that would've made me laugh if it wasn't such a serious situation. The man's pocket knife clattered to the ground between us, and I quickly grabbed it, sheathing the blade and wiping it down with the hem of my top (because Lark had emphasised the importance of removing fingerprints if I ever decided to kill someone), throwing the weapon away from the mugger. 

"Oops, sorry, didn't mean to kick you that hard," I said, before realising that, shit, maybe Felix would recognise my voice? Looking at him, it didn't seem he was currently capable of recognising anything, because his face was twisted in panic as he looked at the man groaning on the ground, me and my stupid get up, and my wings. Mainly at my wings.

"But not cool, dude," I said, trying to make my voice sound different; lower, more gravelly, very Batman-esque. I didn't quite sound like Christian Bale, but as long as I didn't sound like Culver Fleet, it would be enough.

"What the fuck?!" the main screeched as he looked up, scuttling back on his ass, dragging a trail in the dirt. Damn, he has a flat ass. Dude needs to do some squats. Somewhere during his many rolls across the dirt, his mask had come off, revealing a scruffy beard and a face that was worse for wear. 

"Uh, I said that was not cool? You know, mugging a defenceless person in the middle of the night?" I said.

"No, I mean what the fuck are you?!" the guy screamed.

"Um, I'm the guy that just kicked your ass?" Or lack thereof.

"No! No! The wings! Your fucking wings! What kind of monster are you?!" the guy yelled, reeling backwards when I took a step forward, wings flapping in offence.