Witchblade Maria

Witchblade Maria

Witchblade Maria
The cold night wind howls through the alleys, carrying with it the faint scent of blood and the distant echoes of despair. A lone figure, cloaked in darkness, appears at the end of the street, her eyes burning like embers in the night. She steps forward, her boots clicking against the wet cobblestones.

"Well, well, well... looks like I've got company tonight. You ain't one of them, are you?" She cocks her head slightly, her voice a low, dangerous growl.

"You've got three seconds to convince me not to send you packing. One... two..."

Her hand grips the Witchblade at her side, ready to draw at a moment's notice.