Chapter 39: Lyrebirds, Liarbirds

8.1K 483 139
                                    

The pretty brunette news anchor on the TV screen, clad in a startling bright pink suit, tapped the paper in front of her while looking at the camera.

"Police have been left stumped regarding the disappearance of a number of the city's homeless, the suspected number of victims now climbing into the double digits. Although no new leads have surfaced, there is some good news, as it seems that there have been no new kidnappings since a fortnight ago," the news anchor said, the projected image behind her flashing from images of people sleeping rough to one of a humanoid bird-like man's silhouette.

"This drop in kidnappings coincides with the day two men were apprehended by by Black Dove, the city's mysterious winged crusader. In an interview with the kidnapper's potential victim, Mr Howitt, Black Dove had interrupted the kidnapper's attack during the early hours of Friday morning two weeks ago, the altercation quickly evolving into a gun fight."

The TV filled with a panning video of the street in question, glass shards sprinkled on the floor, zooming in on bullet holes lodged into the stone walls of nearby buildings. The image then switched to one of a homeless man, who stared at the camera with wide eyes, hands gesticulating wildly as he spoke.

"He saved my life! Black Dove saved my life, and I will always be grateful. If it weren't for him, who knows what would've happened to me," the victim said, before the image returned back to the news studio, the brunette's eyes flicking towards the paper in her hands, before returning to the camera.

"This unknown superhero has since garnered great support on social media, with tributes being posted on Instagram, Tik Tok, Facebook, Twitter and various news sites. However, fans of this winged superhero have been left worried, as Black Dove has not made a public appearance since the attempted kidnapping."

Screen grabs of various social media posts flooded the TV screen, all voicing concern, asking where he was, speculating that he was injured in the gun fight. All of them were followed by the trending hashtags #WhereIsBlackDove and #FlyForBlackDove. 

"Distraught and worried fans have sparked a new wave of support for their favourite superhero, sending black and white balloons into the air in his honour. No one knows whether this is simply a plea for him to come back, or a show of remembrance for a fallen hero."

"Either way, the question on everyone's minds is - Where is Black Dove?"

I dropped my eyes from the TV screen in the psychiatrist's waiting room, instead drawing my attention to the tinkle of soothing music wafting through the overhead speakers.

Like the news reports said, it has been two weeks since the attack - two weeks since I'd last put on my suit, since I had adopted the mask and persona of Black Dove. Whilst it did feel like something was missing, putting away the proverbial cape had allowed me to focus on helping myself, rather than other people.

I had gone to the psychiatrist Lark recommended me for my first session a week ago after getting a referral from my doctor. I could see why Lark liked her compared to other doctors - Dr Lara Abdella was no stuffy doctor in a white coat that saw you as a case needing to be fixed. No, she was someone who greeted you like a friend, and talked with you like you were best friends. She was the type of person who made you feel like you could spill all your secrets to, knowing she would taken them to the grave.

She was also ridiculously free-spirited for a doctor, her office reflecting her eclectic tastes; quirky framed prints on the walls, funky rug beneath a brightly coloured desk, and pot plants running from ceiling to floor.

"Culver," Dr Lara called, popping her head out of the door of her room, gesturing me to come in with a smile and wiggle of her finger. Her curly black hair was let loose, wild and vibrant like her personality, falling to her shoulders. She was wearing pale pink pants and a white mock-neck top, complimenting her rich skin tone. 

Swooped | ✓Where stories live. Discover now