Venice Vega (narrative)
She was going to fucking kill whoever it was they'd hired to decorate Amery Wilkes' office. For some forsaken reason, the entire place was more or less lined with sharp things - this was the first thing that rang through her mind as she gripped onto the edge of her desk and gritted her teeth, annoyed.
Why the fuck hadn't Amery been in to work today? It made her think that -- no, there was no way that the Dark Lord could do something like make a fucking natural disaster, right? -- that maybe he knew about this. He could have fucking told her, he would have told her, right?
Her thoughts were cut short (har har) when another shock sent the rack of antique spears barreling toward her. Venice attempted to throw herself to the side and only succeeded in having her legs pinned against the wall while the rack rocked back and then forth with greater force than before.
She felt blood in her throat and choked hard, gasping for air until the pool of red liquid beneath her feet became too large and her body gave out, lifeless and unmoving.
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