Mia’s body tumbles away from her attacker. Lord knows she’d need a cleaning crew for this mess later. It was worse than the first time she almost died. Mia was lucky to somehow be alive. Count it up to her spirit energy or something.
[There’s a loud noise and a searing pain in his shoulder, but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment, adrenaline working to keep him moving, in spite of the fact that his free arm is suddenly just about impossible to move. It doesn’t even register that he’s been shot for the moment as he rushes forward, knowing that this is his one and only chance. After all, even through the darkness, he can see the glint of that blade as it comes to rest at Mia’s throat.
The rest of his journey forward feels as though it’s made in slow motion, the hand that’s holding the knife pulling back, before moving forward, the blunt end of the handle aimed straight for the side of Dahlia’s head. At most, the force would be enough to knock her out, and at the very least, the poor medium that she’s possessing will have quite the painful bump to tend to.]
Ah—!!!
To say the least, she isn’t at all prepared for Phoenix’s swift recovery. Everything goes black as Dahlia’s medium is knocked senseless, and the angry spirit floats above the girl’s prone (and heavily bloodstained) body. Blue flames crackle at the ghost’s waist, and her eyes are empty and white.
Phoenix Wright…how dare you—?!
With an unearthly, terrifying scream, she claws at Wright and vanishes into the night, leaving the three behind in her bloody wake.
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