Swoops - the Aftermath

Who: ?
Where: Abandoned Warehouse Floor.
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  The figure walked back and forth inside the empty structure, muttering and cursing.  They paced
back and forth with long powerful strides, a hand attached firmly to a chin, and a furrow on the brow.
The head kept flitting left and right, and the torso shook with a visible shiver.
 
  "This is too much," the figure said, the same ominous voice rumbling through the empty room.
 
  "This could be the undoing."
 
  The figure paced more.
 
  "I promised I wouldn't use my powers.  I specifically told myself not to.  Yet here I am in the midst
of a potential crisis because I had to fight evil and save the day."
 
  The figure continued pacing, the speed increasing.
 
  "OK, so no one knows who I am, I might be safe."
 
  The figure stopped and smiled.  It quickly disappeared when a single thought went through the figure's
mind.
 
  "You left your calling card."
 
  The figure began pacing again, much faster.
 
  "How can they possibly link it to you?  No one suspects a thing.  There's no way it can travel to you." 
 
  The figure stopped and winced.
 
  "No way," it repeated.
 
*
 
  Doctor Shakespeare sat at his desk, feeling a book.  He'd learnt braille a few days ago and was currently
enjoying the delights of his own work.
 
  "Forswear, whens't I wroteth Henry thy VII, I was't thee genius!" he said, filled with enormous pride.
 
  His office door opened with a small swish and he became alert as his ears picked up the footsteps of the
person entering the office.  He listened carefully, his ears picking up every detail of the sound.
 
  "Greetings, Fair Hazel," he said with a satisfied grin.
 
  "Hello William," Coffey smiled warmly.  She sat down at the front of his desk.
 
  "Whats't bringeth thy to'st myne humblest office?" Shakespeare asked, closing his book.
 
  "Did you hear the newspaper this morning?" she asked.  "Some criminal was found incapacitated in one of the
promenade corridors.  All that was found by the body was a snigle piece of paper, with the letters DWS written
on it."
 
  "DWS?  Whats't dost thou thinketh that could mean?" Shakespeare asked confused. 
 
  "I've no idea," said Coffey.
 
  "Waits't!" shakespeare said, an edge of fear present at his voice.  "DWS!  Doctor William Shakespeare!  Dost thou thinketh thy perpetrator coulds't be after myneself?!"
 
  Coffey gasped.
 
  "I don't know," she said, suddenly worried.  Coffey got off the desk and gave Shakespeare a comforting hug. 
"I'm sure it could mean anything." She suggested, trying to make both Shakespeare, and herself, feel better.
 
  <to be continued...>