Identity Thief

Name's Frank Spallani but no one knows me by my real name anymore. Once I was feared as the baddest ass detective in the baddest part of the baddest city in the country.

Now I dress up like an owl and run around trying to get my job done while avoiding the superhero obsessed paparazzi.

Yep. I'm Gray Owl. Official superhero. Got the costume to prove it and everything. Typical spandex tights but in black to reflect my dark brooding nature. Got an owl shaped hood with worn out feathers. It doesn't protect my identity since no one cares who I really am. If you want any respect in this town you've got to dress up like a moron.

I miss Slaughter Hills. Yeah, it's as dangerous as you've heard. Got this scar across my face in addition to plenty more psychological ones. But I feel my life was an honorable one. I got more respect for a junkie wanting to slash my eyes with a broken bottle than I do with some tights-wearing coward with heat vision who tries to pick me off from 50 feet away.

Now I'm here in Century City, superhero central. Some say even more dangerous than my old stomping grounds. We got radioactive supervillains and alien death rays. Still, I feel like I'm living in a cartoon. Give me some dope fueled gangbangers any day.

Tonight I'm on a mission. I take another look at the dossier on my quarry. Joan Angelopoulos aka Jezebelle Angel aka Glamor Girl. She's in a world of danger and doesn't even realize it yet.

I arrive at Grayson Tower. 35 stories to the roof. I have a grappling gun on my 'Owl Belt' that I could use to scale my way to the top. I take the elevator instead.

There she is, standing waiting for me on the roof. She's got the body of a porn star wrapped up with the smile of the innocent girl next door. Even without that glittering skintight bikini she calls a costume, I'd still be transfixed on her beauty. Five seconds later, I'd find myself wishing for someone intelligent to talk to.

"Horned Owl?" she asks. "Hey, I just remembered that I do remember you. Last June when you teamed up with me and Lady Darke to take down the Flayer, right?"

"Gray Owl," I correct her, not really caring she got it wrong.

"Oh yeah!" she laughs. "Horned Owl's a lot younger than you. We all call him the horny owl. Because he is."

She giggles but I get right down to business.

"Ms. Angel...."

"Glamor Girl," she corrects me now. "We're in costume. We have to use our superhero names. It's professional and all."

"Forgive me," I sigh. "I ran the results at my Owl's Aerie." The Aerie is actually my 11th story apartment, but it does have a police lab.

"I'm afraid I have bad news," I continue. "There's a 99% chance you've been possessed by the Identity Thief."

I let the reality of that settle in. Looking into her vacuous eyes, it's hard to tell if she's afraid or just very confused.

"Princess Prisma says the Identity Thief is just an urban legend," she finally tells me.

"We're surrounded by metahumans, aliens and real-life magicians," I remind her. "Even Bigfoot is real and has his own superhero team. Everything in this city is an urban legend. I assure you, the Identity Thief is real. And he's taken you over."

"Explain this again," she asks. I can tell that it's not that she doesn't understand. It's that she doesn't want to."

"No one knows exactly what the Identity Thief is yet," I explain. "Could be an alien life form. Could be a super villain's escaped lab experiment. Could be a sentient virus. What we do know is that it lurks in the shadows for a victim. It then possesses that victim and takes on the victim's very identity. It lives as that victim. But, as far as we know, it can only live for about five days. The victim starts to decay and finally explode releasing more Identity Thieves. It acts a lot like a virus which leads me to believe in that theory and..."