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At around 8:30 AM, outside a diner, a man unlocks the door to start doing some business, and is unsurprised to find his boss already at the counter, flipping through the morning papers.

“Hey boss, what’s new in the papers today,” the man says, flipping the sign to open.

“The Cloaked Bandit is back at it again, they say. Hell, I don’t even think he’s real, I mean, have you heard what they say about him?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“They say that he is a violent maniac, that will shoot you dead if you so much as touch him. And that he wears a white cloak everywhere he goes, never taking it off.”

“Well, you would think people would be able to catch him then, if he is always wearing a cloak.”

“See that's the thing, they don’t, he always gets away somehow. I don’t really know personally, since I've never read deeper into it, but y’know.”

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“That’s great and all boss, but what are they saying, in the papers, right now?”

His boss sets the papers down onto the counter.

“Why don’t ya take a look yourself?”

He reaches to grab them off of the counter, when the chime of the door rings.

The diner stands still, with only the now closing door moving; a man cloaked in white stares down the two men in the room. The creak of the open sign swinging, and the creak of the chairs being the only thing audible in the diner.

After an unbearable few moments, the cloaked man pulls out a gun from under his pale shroud, and motions for the men to start emptying the cash register, slowly and silently.

They both move quickly, not wanting to make too much noise, in order to not get shot. The bossman orders the other man to grab the bag from the back, and not too much time later the money is out of the register and into the bag.

As soon as he came he’s gone, like a spirit in the night. Leaving with the chime of the door at his heels, a sack full of money, and a swift message; to never feel safe again.