woodyloveslinkin
aka Gloomy Mushroom
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2004
- Location
- Lithgow Australia
I'm going to give everyone a warning about this as its contents are a bit gory, don't eat while reading this. You may throw up due to gory mental images.
Draven and Joanna walked down the hallways together this evening, as they were in deep discussion about the activities of the Comet’s Eye. Joanna had pieces of paper in her hands with statistics written over them while Draven had other pieces of paper in his hands with numbers and scientific formulas printed on them. Spyro had been a help today in collaborating all of this information for them as they needed to get this new plan that Sarah had chucked the biggest of tantrums over. It was Joanna’s idea for the Old Worlders to volunteer conversion while Joanna had gotten away with defying a direct order from Sarah, Sarah still wanted her way, and she was going to get it.
Draven was now fearful of Sarah regaining her backbone as the death of Brad had shaken her up a lot and the last thing that Sarah wanted to be was an Ivna-induced drug addict that sat around and smiled at the war. Ivna was for the rest of the world not the people who worked at the global based corporation. Draven knew, as he walked alongside Joanna in his black suit, black tie, black shiny shoes and a white shirt that looked too clean to be real, that Sarah was not only planning another massive attack on the Old World generation, but she had already lined up a million artificial Spyral guards to invade Japan and implement Sarah’s real plan, that Joanna had misinterpreted at Camp David that day. There was no volunteering when it came to conversion, there was forced conversion, and that’s what Sarah was aiming to do now. Draven feared Sarah even more now that his bullying tactics weren’t working on her, and that yet again, she was finding her backbone.
Draven had never feared Sarah until now. Draven tried to tell himself that she was going to fall hard like Hitler fell smack down onto his face when the invasion of Berlin occurred. Draven was no historian to recall precise dates of events, but even with the common knowledge that Hitler fell hard, just like how Sarah was going to do soon (he hoped). He hoped to gain heir to the throne and do the same job as Jonathon.
Draven and Joanna were also trying to multi task and make sure that all of the weapons that Jonathon had safely kept in the weaponry room were still intact and safe to use. The invasion of Japan was to begin as soon as the weaponry and the tactics were given the all clear. The pair didn’t touch the tactics but Draven had a good feeling that Japan would be taken down, as Joanna had the exact same feeling as well, lingering inside of her.
She smiled as her black curls bounced along with her and the crystal and diamond embedded chandeliers reflected the slickness of Draven’s blonde hair gelled back. Joanna, like Draven, was in a business suit, same coloured attire with the same coloured accessories. Well, except for the shoes, they were heeled black boots that made her presence too clear and obvious when she walked down the hallway.
“I’m no scientist but why do I have to care about the hydrogen levels in the Eye?” asked Joanna, looking to Draven for the reasons for her having to care.
“Because if it’s not the right amount, the thing is going to explode or in the most likely case, implode in your hands,” answered Draven looking back at Joanna.
“Oh okay, I get it now,” Joanna made clear to Draven that she understood or Draven would’ve gone into deeper and scientific terms about the reason. “So we release the Eye, that is out of the chambers, at say about 0800 hours tomorrow and then what do we do after that?”
“Sarah will take care of that, remember the last time you went near the Eye?” asked Draven, recalling a memory where Joanna freaked out because of the Comet Eye’s tendencies to change colours and emotions rapidly. It freaked out because it could sense Joanna’s panic and something that no one in the room knew as well, it freaked out because it had eaten quite a few of her memories and it was the first time that it had direct contact with the physical body of the memory that it had consumed. “It’s like Spyro a lot, it senses mentality, it senses emotions, it feeds on a non-physical food source, and it reacts as we do but in a more combustible and explosive way, physically speaking. Ever heard what plutonium does do you when it is unstable?”
“I don’t know all of this science stuff, I’m just here to be the heir and know everything,” answered Joanna. “Or so that’s what I’ve been told.”
“You’ve been told correct in that case, you have to know everything and I’m the one that has to teach you everything as I taught Sarah, but she’s too smart for her own good at times,” commented Draven, trailing off a little bit towards the end of his sentence. They stopped in the middle of the hallway. Joanna could see a painting that looked out of place behind him, because there weren’t many paintings in this hallway compared to the collection of Jonathon’s that Sarah showed Joanna. “Plutonium is the main component of the Comet’s Eye and it is the core of this invention that makes it physically and emotionally unstable. We at Spyral don’t condone instability, but we approve of it when it comes to our advantage and not our disadvantage.” Joanna wasn’t paying attention but she was busying on trying to read what the painting said on the gold tablet at the top of it. Mona Lisa by Leonardo Da Vinci. Joanna frowned as she thought how badly the portrait of the woman was painted. “Are you paying attention to me, heir?”
“I’m sorry I trailed off,” apologised Joanna, as she didn’t know she didn’t have to apologise to anyone but Sarah right now in her status of being the heir of Spyral. “This picture…” She pointed to the painting as Draven turned around and looked at the painting. She stopped pointing. “What’s so great about it? It’s just a woman sitting down.”
“Don’t converse with me over this painting, it annoys me as well, it’s meant to be one of the most famous paintings of the Old World era,” Draven told Joanna, as they looked back to each other. “An heir has better things to do and learn than to sit and commentate on a picture that deserves to be slashed. In fact, help me for a second, now that I think of it.” Draven turned around, dropped his papers on the floor in front of him, and started to unhinge the painting off the wall.
“But, do you not respect Jonathon’s love for the painting?” asked Joanna, a bit confused. “Didn’t he put it up for a reason?”
“As much as I would love to say yes to both answers, I would have to say no,” answered Draven. “Now are going to help me destroy a painting that is blasphemy to a generation of artists?” Joanna shook her head, as she was somewhat stunned and a bit offended that he would do this to Spyral and to Jonathon’s legacy. “If I could tell you how much this painting doesn’t deserve to survive the next line of Spyral heirs, I would. But I’m afraid I would bore you.”
“Give me that,” ordered Joanna, dropping her papers on the floor, as Draven took it off its hook and Joanna grabbed the other side of the painting and started to pull it her way. “I’m not going to allow you to do this to Jonathon’s memory. You’re contaminating his memory by doing this!”
“And did I say for one second that he liked it?” asked Draven, as he quickly won the struggle to gain control over the painting. Joanna lost grip and tried again to retrieve the painting but her efforts were futile, as Draven merely shoved Joanna out of the way. “No! Can’t you see what the arts have done to Spyral’s head and the people who run it? They fight over canvas with some splashes of cheap Old World acrylic paint on it. This is how Israel lost to Palestine just before the Third World War ended. Bloodshed here, and bloodshed there, for the love of my mother, we could’ve been killing Old Worlders instead of each other of New World blood over this stupid painting.”
“What are you on about?” asked Joanna, stepping back for a second, as she looked around to see if anyone was witnessing the atrocity that was happening right before her. The hallway was empty and the exit to it was a couple of yards away. Joanna looked back at Draven.
“The assassins who killed Jonathon, were not only after his corpse, they wanted this painting as well, claiming that had been stolen from Venice, over in Europe somewhere, and they were only here to get it back,” explained Draven, trying to recall the facts. “I don’t know what happened, but I assumed that Jonathon didn’t like the painting anyway, but he still fought to maintain the truth that he didn’t steal it, so he was stabbed for it. Even though I don’t know the whole story off by heart, this painting was the cause of Jonathon’s death and it needs to be massacred like Jonathon was. With his own sword.”
Before Joanna could say or do anything, Draven broke into a run, ran past Joanna and went straight for the other hallway that joined the hallway that they were in now, with the painting still in his grip. Joanna looked down quickly at the papers on the floor and now was contemplating quickly about taking the papers with her because she had a job to do and if she didn’t do it she…just didn’t want to know what would happen to her if she failed to carry out a simple task. She looked back at Draven running like a slow motion athlete with the Old World famous painting in his hands.
Joanna had no choice, she didn’t believe for one second that this painting that looked horrible and useless was the cause for Jonathon’s death. Joanna could have just gone and started to run to Sarah yelling out that Draven was a traitor to Spyral and Jonathon’s legacy, but Joanna knew she didn’t have time. She had to get to that painting before it was slashed along with the previous ruler’s memory. Joanna turned around and ran awkwardly in her heels, cringing several times at how hard she was running.
Draven was almost out the door, as he turned around and whispered a slight yes to himself as he realised that the plan was working out the way that he wanted. Draven quickly dropped the painting on the floor, opened the door, picked it up again, and ran outside into the next hallway, slamming the door behind him. Joanna was catching up fast and Draven knew she was a fast runner and was a good quick thinker.
Draven looked around to see if anyone was coming and Sarah was coming with a group of black and white clothed associates surrounding her and a few scientists in their white lab coats pinned on the outskirts of the circle of Spyralans. Draven told himself that he better hide quickly or else he would be answering to the three thousand questions that Sarah would throw at him. He looked around quickly.
“Ah, weaponry room,” he whispered to himself, as he quickly hid in there, repeating what he had done previously with the whole dropping the painting and opening the door thing. The painting was getting heavy for him and it was starting to strain the muscles in his arm. He entered and gently closed the door behind him. He saw a small table with a katana on it that had been hidden under a piece of snow white velvet cloth to keep it anti-Japanese (the cloth was meant to keep it free from any Old World Japanese plagues or diseases it might’ve been contaminated with and therefore, that katana was praised as New World technology).
He quickly placed the painting against the table, so that the woman on the canvas faced the doorway and quickly slid out the katana from under the cloth. He had managed to rearrange the previous state of the cloth by doing this so he had to quickly reorganize it again so it looked like it was hiding a katana. But he had to count on Joanna’s stupidity to kick in to realise that the hilt of the blade was missing from sticking out of the piece of cloth.
Joanna came to a sudden halt in front of the door, screeching her heels against the surface of the wooden floorboards of the hallway that she was in, opened it and went through. She looked both ways to see a group of scientists and associates piled in together like a group of penguins huddled in. She couldn’t see Sarah anywhere, so she closed the door behind her and looked to a door that was slightly ajar. It read on the front of the rare timber door, Weaponry Room. Joanna smiled as she knew Draven will be in here probably about to slash the portrait that apparently was the result of Jonathon’s death. She quietly ran into the door, pushing the door open to see that the portrait was in front of a table with an empty white cloth on it.
Joanna took a second or two to look around the room before approaching the painting because she couldn’t see her opponent in sight, because he was too busy lurking in the dark corner quite close to where he wanted her to be with the katana in the firm grip of both his hands. He held it as though he was ready to slice and dice.
The walls were covered in all sorts of swords, ranging from different cultures to different centuries. There were ones that were small daggers, so that they could be hidden they way Sarah hides them in her corset top, there were so many of them. However Joanna couldn’t help but to notice, where were the Old World machinery, like a silencer or any type of destructive guns?
But then she remembered as she sighed, as she thought old age must’ve been the instigator of her forgetfulness. There was none. They were banned because of their involvement in the Third World War. They used other methods like a Glover, which was a magnetic glove that was used to handle the Comet’s Eye in the times of nuclear and mass death and destruction. They included machetes, axes, and all sorts of other bladed instruments for killing and defensive purposes only.
She walked over to the painting as the door swung shut by itself, and kneeled in front of it and bowed her head in silence as she told herself that she wasn’t a traitor for doing this. The only traitor was Draven because he wanted to destroy a token of Jonathon’s brilliant plan that had succeeded to create a better society.
Draven crept out of the corner, still holding the katana firmly in both of his hands, gripping it firmly. Joanna still had her head bowed to the painting, as she suddenly moved her arms and held the painting in her grip. Draven stopped suddenly, afraid that she was going to get up. But he told himself that if he didn’t strike sooner or later she would eventually get up and take the painting with her, and reveal his deceit to Jonathon and the throne of Spyral to everyone who would listen.
“Got any last words?” growled Draven, as he pressed the tip of the blade to Joanna’s skin. Joanna was shocked and almost scared witless by Draven’s sudden presence in the room, let alone that she had now realised what Draven was about to do. She felt the cold tip of the blade against her skin. She had no time to react.
“What?” asked Joanna, as Draven took that as Joanna’s last word, raised his sword, and swung it hard like he had never done it before.
The blade sliced through skin and bone, as blood spurted out in all directions, including all over Draven and the painting. The blood sprayed out from the starting of the wound to the ending of it, as it was not a wound anymore. It was a full decapitation.
Her severed head fell to the floor not far from her body, as her body fell to the floor.
The Mona Lisa was now soaked in Joanna’s blood, as with the white shirt that had been bloodied and the pool of blood that was increasingly getting larger by the second as Joanna’s corpse lost blood and more blood, until there was no more blood to lose.
Draven wiped both sides of the bloodied sword clean with the clothes that kept Joanna’s corpse warm and tossed the sword aside as it landed in the pool of blood, sending more blood spatter everywhere. He stopped as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his black jacket, so that his face was free of the blood splatter that had managed to get onto his face and chin.
He smirked as he remembered that now Joanna is another death, Sarah will be weaker, and now since Draven had never been stripped of his place to be third in line for the throne, as he couldn’t recall ever being booted out of that department, he was now second in line according to Spyral traditions. And now that Joanna just got sliced and diced, Draven found no reason for Sarah to become an invertebrate.
Draven stopped and frowned as he realised that killing Joanna wasn’t a challenge and he liked challenges, but it was a good tactic he admitted to himself secretly. Now somehow killing the top pin of society, that was going to be a challenge because of how many spies she had roaming around the grounds of Spyral and the three dozen or so she had around the streets of Los Angeles who were very faithful towards the dictatress.
“Oh well,” Draven muttered to himself as he could literally taste Joanna’s blood on his lips. He must’ve forgotten to wipe his lips, but he ignored it. “Heiresses, who don’t pay attention to what I’ve got to say, don’t live for very long.”
Chapter 27 - Air Versus Heir
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Draven and Joanna walked down the hallways together this evening, as they were in deep discussion about the activities of the Comet’s Eye. Joanna had pieces of paper in her hands with statistics written over them while Draven had other pieces of paper in his hands with numbers and scientific formulas printed on them. Spyro had been a help today in collaborating all of this information for them as they needed to get this new plan that Sarah had chucked the biggest of tantrums over. It was Joanna’s idea for the Old Worlders to volunteer conversion while Joanna had gotten away with defying a direct order from Sarah, Sarah still wanted her way, and she was going to get it.
Draven was now fearful of Sarah regaining her backbone as the death of Brad had shaken her up a lot and the last thing that Sarah wanted to be was an Ivna-induced drug addict that sat around and smiled at the war. Ivna was for the rest of the world not the people who worked at the global based corporation. Draven knew, as he walked alongside Joanna in his black suit, black tie, black shiny shoes and a white shirt that looked too clean to be real, that Sarah was not only planning another massive attack on the Old World generation, but she had already lined up a million artificial Spyral guards to invade Japan and implement Sarah’s real plan, that Joanna had misinterpreted at Camp David that day. There was no volunteering when it came to conversion, there was forced conversion, and that’s what Sarah was aiming to do now. Draven feared Sarah even more now that his bullying tactics weren’t working on her, and that yet again, she was finding her backbone.
Draven had never feared Sarah until now. Draven tried to tell himself that she was going to fall hard like Hitler fell smack down onto his face when the invasion of Berlin occurred. Draven was no historian to recall precise dates of events, but even with the common knowledge that Hitler fell hard, just like how Sarah was going to do soon (he hoped). He hoped to gain heir to the throne and do the same job as Jonathon.
Draven and Joanna were also trying to multi task and make sure that all of the weapons that Jonathon had safely kept in the weaponry room were still intact and safe to use. The invasion of Japan was to begin as soon as the weaponry and the tactics were given the all clear. The pair didn’t touch the tactics but Draven had a good feeling that Japan would be taken down, as Joanna had the exact same feeling as well, lingering inside of her.
She smiled as her black curls bounced along with her and the crystal and diamond embedded chandeliers reflected the slickness of Draven’s blonde hair gelled back. Joanna, like Draven, was in a business suit, same coloured attire with the same coloured accessories. Well, except for the shoes, they were heeled black boots that made her presence too clear and obvious when she walked down the hallway.
“I’m no scientist but why do I have to care about the hydrogen levels in the Eye?” asked Joanna, looking to Draven for the reasons for her having to care.
“Because if it’s not the right amount, the thing is going to explode or in the most likely case, implode in your hands,” answered Draven looking back at Joanna.
“Oh okay, I get it now,” Joanna made clear to Draven that she understood or Draven would’ve gone into deeper and scientific terms about the reason. “So we release the Eye, that is out of the chambers, at say about 0800 hours tomorrow and then what do we do after that?”
“Sarah will take care of that, remember the last time you went near the Eye?” asked Draven, recalling a memory where Joanna freaked out because of the Comet Eye’s tendencies to change colours and emotions rapidly. It freaked out because it could sense Joanna’s panic and something that no one in the room knew as well, it freaked out because it had eaten quite a few of her memories and it was the first time that it had direct contact with the physical body of the memory that it had consumed. “It’s like Spyro a lot, it senses mentality, it senses emotions, it feeds on a non-physical food source, and it reacts as we do but in a more combustible and explosive way, physically speaking. Ever heard what plutonium does do you when it is unstable?”
“I don’t know all of this science stuff, I’m just here to be the heir and know everything,” answered Joanna. “Or so that’s what I’ve been told.”
“You’ve been told correct in that case, you have to know everything and I’m the one that has to teach you everything as I taught Sarah, but she’s too smart for her own good at times,” commented Draven, trailing off a little bit towards the end of his sentence. They stopped in the middle of the hallway. Joanna could see a painting that looked out of place behind him, because there weren’t many paintings in this hallway compared to the collection of Jonathon’s that Sarah showed Joanna. “Plutonium is the main component of the Comet’s Eye and it is the core of this invention that makes it physically and emotionally unstable. We at Spyral don’t condone instability, but we approve of it when it comes to our advantage and not our disadvantage.” Joanna wasn’t paying attention but she was busying on trying to read what the painting said on the gold tablet at the top of it. Mona Lisa by Leonardo Da Vinci. Joanna frowned as she thought how badly the portrait of the woman was painted. “Are you paying attention to me, heir?”
“I’m sorry I trailed off,” apologised Joanna, as she didn’t know she didn’t have to apologise to anyone but Sarah right now in her status of being the heir of Spyral. “This picture…” She pointed to the painting as Draven turned around and looked at the painting. She stopped pointing. “What’s so great about it? It’s just a woman sitting down.”
“Don’t converse with me over this painting, it annoys me as well, it’s meant to be one of the most famous paintings of the Old World era,” Draven told Joanna, as they looked back to each other. “An heir has better things to do and learn than to sit and commentate on a picture that deserves to be slashed. In fact, help me for a second, now that I think of it.” Draven turned around, dropped his papers on the floor in front of him, and started to unhinge the painting off the wall.
“But, do you not respect Jonathon’s love for the painting?” asked Joanna, a bit confused. “Didn’t he put it up for a reason?”
“As much as I would love to say yes to both answers, I would have to say no,” answered Draven. “Now are going to help me destroy a painting that is blasphemy to a generation of artists?” Joanna shook her head, as she was somewhat stunned and a bit offended that he would do this to Spyral and to Jonathon’s legacy. “If I could tell you how much this painting doesn’t deserve to survive the next line of Spyral heirs, I would. But I’m afraid I would bore you.”
“Give me that,” ordered Joanna, dropping her papers on the floor, as Draven took it off its hook and Joanna grabbed the other side of the painting and started to pull it her way. “I’m not going to allow you to do this to Jonathon’s memory. You’re contaminating his memory by doing this!”
“And did I say for one second that he liked it?” asked Draven, as he quickly won the struggle to gain control over the painting. Joanna lost grip and tried again to retrieve the painting but her efforts were futile, as Draven merely shoved Joanna out of the way. “No! Can’t you see what the arts have done to Spyral’s head and the people who run it? They fight over canvas with some splashes of cheap Old World acrylic paint on it. This is how Israel lost to Palestine just before the Third World War ended. Bloodshed here, and bloodshed there, for the love of my mother, we could’ve been killing Old Worlders instead of each other of New World blood over this stupid painting.”
“What are you on about?” asked Joanna, stepping back for a second, as she looked around to see if anyone was witnessing the atrocity that was happening right before her. The hallway was empty and the exit to it was a couple of yards away. Joanna looked back at Draven.
“The assassins who killed Jonathon, were not only after his corpse, they wanted this painting as well, claiming that had been stolen from Venice, over in Europe somewhere, and they were only here to get it back,” explained Draven, trying to recall the facts. “I don’t know what happened, but I assumed that Jonathon didn’t like the painting anyway, but he still fought to maintain the truth that he didn’t steal it, so he was stabbed for it. Even though I don’t know the whole story off by heart, this painting was the cause of Jonathon’s death and it needs to be massacred like Jonathon was. With his own sword.”
Before Joanna could say or do anything, Draven broke into a run, ran past Joanna and went straight for the other hallway that joined the hallway that they were in now, with the painting still in his grip. Joanna looked down quickly at the papers on the floor and now was contemplating quickly about taking the papers with her because she had a job to do and if she didn’t do it she…just didn’t want to know what would happen to her if she failed to carry out a simple task. She looked back at Draven running like a slow motion athlete with the Old World famous painting in his hands.
Joanna had no choice, she didn’t believe for one second that this painting that looked horrible and useless was the cause for Jonathon’s death. Joanna could have just gone and started to run to Sarah yelling out that Draven was a traitor to Spyral and Jonathon’s legacy, but Joanna knew she didn’t have time. She had to get to that painting before it was slashed along with the previous ruler’s memory. Joanna turned around and ran awkwardly in her heels, cringing several times at how hard she was running.
Draven was almost out the door, as he turned around and whispered a slight yes to himself as he realised that the plan was working out the way that he wanted. Draven quickly dropped the painting on the floor, opened the door, picked it up again, and ran outside into the next hallway, slamming the door behind him. Joanna was catching up fast and Draven knew she was a fast runner and was a good quick thinker.
Draven looked around to see if anyone was coming and Sarah was coming with a group of black and white clothed associates surrounding her and a few scientists in their white lab coats pinned on the outskirts of the circle of Spyralans. Draven told himself that he better hide quickly or else he would be answering to the three thousand questions that Sarah would throw at him. He looked around quickly.
“Ah, weaponry room,” he whispered to himself, as he quickly hid in there, repeating what he had done previously with the whole dropping the painting and opening the door thing. The painting was getting heavy for him and it was starting to strain the muscles in his arm. He entered and gently closed the door behind him. He saw a small table with a katana on it that had been hidden under a piece of snow white velvet cloth to keep it anti-Japanese (the cloth was meant to keep it free from any Old World Japanese plagues or diseases it might’ve been contaminated with and therefore, that katana was praised as New World technology).
He quickly placed the painting against the table, so that the woman on the canvas faced the doorway and quickly slid out the katana from under the cloth. He had managed to rearrange the previous state of the cloth by doing this so he had to quickly reorganize it again so it looked like it was hiding a katana. But he had to count on Joanna’s stupidity to kick in to realise that the hilt of the blade was missing from sticking out of the piece of cloth.
Joanna came to a sudden halt in front of the door, screeching her heels against the surface of the wooden floorboards of the hallway that she was in, opened it and went through. She looked both ways to see a group of scientists and associates piled in together like a group of penguins huddled in. She couldn’t see Sarah anywhere, so she closed the door behind her and looked to a door that was slightly ajar. It read on the front of the rare timber door, Weaponry Room. Joanna smiled as she knew Draven will be in here probably about to slash the portrait that apparently was the result of Jonathon’s death. She quietly ran into the door, pushing the door open to see that the portrait was in front of a table with an empty white cloth on it.
Joanna took a second or two to look around the room before approaching the painting because she couldn’t see her opponent in sight, because he was too busy lurking in the dark corner quite close to where he wanted her to be with the katana in the firm grip of both his hands. He held it as though he was ready to slice and dice.
The walls were covered in all sorts of swords, ranging from different cultures to different centuries. There were ones that were small daggers, so that they could be hidden they way Sarah hides them in her corset top, there were so many of them. However Joanna couldn’t help but to notice, where were the Old World machinery, like a silencer or any type of destructive guns?
But then she remembered as she sighed, as she thought old age must’ve been the instigator of her forgetfulness. There was none. They were banned because of their involvement in the Third World War. They used other methods like a Glover, which was a magnetic glove that was used to handle the Comet’s Eye in the times of nuclear and mass death and destruction. They included machetes, axes, and all sorts of other bladed instruments for killing and defensive purposes only.
She walked over to the painting as the door swung shut by itself, and kneeled in front of it and bowed her head in silence as she told herself that she wasn’t a traitor for doing this. The only traitor was Draven because he wanted to destroy a token of Jonathon’s brilliant plan that had succeeded to create a better society.
Draven crept out of the corner, still holding the katana firmly in both of his hands, gripping it firmly. Joanna still had her head bowed to the painting, as she suddenly moved her arms and held the painting in her grip. Draven stopped suddenly, afraid that she was going to get up. But he told himself that if he didn’t strike sooner or later she would eventually get up and take the painting with her, and reveal his deceit to Jonathon and the throne of Spyral to everyone who would listen.
“Got any last words?” growled Draven, as he pressed the tip of the blade to Joanna’s skin. Joanna was shocked and almost scared witless by Draven’s sudden presence in the room, let alone that she had now realised what Draven was about to do. She felt the cold tip of the blade against her skin. She had no time to react.
“What?” asked Joanna, as Draven took that as Joanna’s last word, raised his sword, and swung it hard like he had never done it before.
The blade sliced through skin and bone, as blood spurted out in all directions, including all over Draven and the painting. The blood sprayed out from the starting of the wound to the ending of it, as it was not a wound anymore. It was a full decapitation.
Her severed head fell to the floor not far from her body, as her body fell to the floor.
The Mona Lisa was now soaked in Joanna’s blood, as with the white shirt that had been bloodied and the pool of blood that was increasingly getting larger by the second as Joanna’s corpse lost blood and more blood, until there was no more blood to lose.
Draven wiped both sides of the bloodied sword clean with the clothes that kept Joanna’s corpse warm and tossed the sword aside as it landed in the pool of blood, sending more blood spatter everywhere. He stopped as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his black jacket, so that his face was free of the blood splatter that had managed to get onto his face and chin.
He smirked as he remembered that now Joanna is another death, Sarah will be weaker, and now since Draven had never been stripped of his place to be third in line for the throne, as he couldn’t recall ever being booted out of that department, he was now second in line according to Spyral traditions. And now that Joanna just got sliced and diced, Draven found no reason for Sarah to become an invertebrate.
Draven stopped and frowned as he realised that killing Joanna wasn’t a challenge and he liked challenges, but it was a good tactic he admitted to himself secretly. Now somehow killing the top pin of society, that was going to be a challenge because of how many spies she had roaming around the grounds of Spyral and the three dozen or so she had around the streets of Los Angeles who were very faithful towards the dictatress.
“Oh well,” Draven muttered to himself as he could literally taste Joanna’s blood on his lips. He must’ve forgotten to wipe his lips, but he ignored it. “Heiresses, who don’t pay attention to what I’ve got to say, don’t live for very long.”
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