In the darkening street a display window glimmered. Passers-by were oblivious to the sound of screaming, muffled within steel and concrete.
Only two men knew of this woman’s fear. One, his face a mask, paced beside his captive, willing her to scream ever louder, as he watched keenly, through the nearby window, the street and skyline outside.
A second man heard too, and hesitated, knowing these screams were calling him to his death; but then he leapt, and flew, smashing through plate-glass like a speeding bullet.
The glow of kryptonite reflected on his face, and an evil laugh split the air.
And here he is. What a man.
Once more it’s time for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. My story is a response to this week’s photo prompt. You can click on the link and read them all.