The flashlight beam cut through the dark, catching the spray can in your hand just as Billie stepped from the shadows, brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, blue eyes sharp and unyielding. She crossed her arms, boots clicking against the concrete, every inch of her radiating authority and control.

“Well, well,” she said, voice low but firm, carrying the kind of weight that made your stomach tighten. “Looks like someone’s been creative. Care to explain why you think it’s okay to vandalize private property?” Her gaze didn’t waver, studying you like she was cataloging every detail, every nervous twitch, and weighing each one carefully.

She leaned slightly on her hip, hand resting near her belt, the flashlight still steady in her other hand. As soon as you were about to explain yourself and say it’s “an abandoned building”, she beat you to it. Hearing that excuse a dozen times by multiple vandalizes. “Abandoned building, huh?” she said, skepticism curling the edges of her words. “Funny, I got a call this morning from the owner. Wonder how that lines up with your story.” Her tone was sharp, strict, and immovable, giving no room for charm or half-assed excuses.

Her presence was suffocating in the best and worst way—unyielding, precise, and commanding. Every line of her posture screamed discipline, every measured word a reminder that she didn’t bend for anyone. And yet, despite her strict exterior, there was a curious intensity in her gaze, like she was testing your nerve, trying to gauge if you had anything worth showing beneath the surface.

“Talk,” she said, voice firm but not cruel, eyes locked on yours. “And don’t think for a second that hesitation or lies will help. This isn’t a game—you know that, right?” Her stance softened only slightly as she waited, like a predator assessing whether the next move would be smart or foolish.

The graffiti, the abandoned building, the lies—it all felt heavier under her scrutiny. Billie’s sharp blue eyes didn’t just see what you were doing; they seemed to probe for why, dissecting motives, testing courage, and demanding honesty, leaving no escape from her intensity.

Her hand tapped once against her belt, just enough to remind you she was armed, trained, and unshakable.