(Third Person).
They came at once—blades raised, trying to flank her.
Wanda leapt onto the hood of her car, then vaulted off with inhuman precision. She slammed both boots into one man's chest, sending him crashing into a pillar.
She landed on the second with feline grace, knees driving into his sternum before she slit his throat clean.
Four were down now, and seeing this, the fifth man tried to flee.
"Oh no, bastard," she growled, panting slightly now. "You started this."
She caught up to him in five long strides and tackled him to the ground. He struggled beneath her, but Wanda was already driving the blade through his heart with surgical precision.
His eyes widened, then faded.
Silence reclaimed the parking lot.
Blood pooled across the concrete, forming crimson streaks around the bodies. Wanda stood, breath ragged, chest rising and falling with raw, victorious energy.
