Watch her drag that bat, metal scraping on cracked cement. Slowly pacing, getting ready for the kill.
Red lips pursed, arched brows in a scowl. Her energy pulsing, like cold air stinging your skin.
She raises the bat high. Eyes turned black and a devious smile stretching across her face.
The street lamp shines upon her, your hellish angel brining death, but its shadows turn her delicate features harsh and you know this is it.
You brace yourself as the bat’s whoosh is the last sound you hear, striking again and again until the blood in your eyes goes black.