Chapter Text
Azrael stepped between the man and the others, her posture calm, unshaken.
The criminal’s gun wavered, then locked on her. “I swear, I’ll shoot!”
“Then shoot,” she said simply.
Bang
Her head snapped slightly from the impact of the bullet, ectoplasm now dripping down her face and head. She calmly lifted a hand to her head, touched the wound, and stared at the the green ectoplasm coating her palm and fingers.
Impassive, she tilted her head.
Then she lunged.
In the blink of an eye, she was upon the shooter. Her hand plunged into his chest—he barely had time to gasp before she pushed him away, ripping it out.
His heart pulsed weakly in her grip.
Blood dripped down her arm, pooling at her feet.