LeBlanc walked away from Sona, the Maven's body frozen as she could do naught but stare at the lifeless corpse pooling blood at her feet. She had done this, and that she knew. She wasn't ready to face the consequences for her actions – and LeBlanc wasn't either. The Deceiver came back with a big and brown gardening bag, the ones used to place dead weeds in – except their motive was to shove a dead body inside instead.
The Noxian gave Sona a reassuring nod before turning her head towards Lance's corpse. LeBlanc grabbed his feet and pulled him forward, and Sona took the bag and placed it on the floor. Together, they slid the Interrogator's body into the bag and struggled to place it back upwards once he was folded inside.
"Good…" LeBlanc said after taking a deep breath of air, her hands shaky as she grabbed the opening of the bag, peeking inside before uttering a shudder.
She brought the opening edges of the bag all together, tying them as tightly as she possibly could in order to shut out the treason Lance's dead body represented. Sona and LeBlanc shoved their fingers underneath the bag, uncomfortable with the feeling of a dead body against their digits rather than dead weeds
"I bet you're used to this." LeBlanc awkwardly commented.
Sona remained quiet.
LeBlanc grunted as the both of them rose the bag up together, struggling to find a comfortable grip before they started to waddle towards the basement stairs. Sona went first, and LeBlanc was underneath, the both of them guiding the concealed body up the stairs before they dropped it in LeBlanc's living room.
The Deceiver allowed her eyes to scan her home, happy to see that all her curtains were drawn over her windows. She looked down at the bag before glancing over at Sona, a gentle smile creeping up on her lips as the maven's face was stricken with brood anxiety.
"It'll be alright, Sona." LeBlanc said as she approached the Demacian, wrapping her arms around her for comfort. "Just… go downstairs and clean up the blood, alright?"
Sona slowly nodded and just-as slowly marched back down into the basement.
LeBlanc waited to hear the creaking of the steps to reach the bottom before she closed the basement door, and then `closed her eyes and began to think about the current situation.
I don't think I can persuade myself out of this one. I just can't think of a logical explanation. They don't even know that Sona is living within my home… they still think that she is under Lance's supervision within the prisons.
The Deceiver opened her eyes and sighed, grabbing the bag before dragging it across her wooden living room floor, taking it close towards her home's entrance. LeBlanc then walked away from the gardening bag and plumped herself down into the chair Sona usually sat in, her fingertips gripping onto the leather armrests as she became flustered with stress and fear.
They're going to kill me. They're going to kill her. If I tell them I couldn't get information out of her because she's mute… they won't believe me. Swain is naïve and he'll eliminate me as soon as he realizes what's going on here.
"I need time to think of a plan." LeBlanc whispered to herself as she got up from her seat, marching towards the basement door before opening it.
The Deceiver closed the basement door behind herself and raced down the stairs, seeing Sona on her knees, her bloody fingers grasping a blood-soaked rag while her arms were coated in the same contents, the lower half of her blue dress stained with streaks of red.
"Sona…" LeBlanc called as she watched the Demacian turn to face her, small rivulets of blood sitting on her cheeks as she was wiping tears from her face. "That's enough for now."
Sona tilted her head at LeBlanc, her facial expression reading all sorts of 'what do you mean?'
"Come." LeBlanc said as she walked towards the kneeling Maven, extending her arms outwards for Sona to take. "Let's put Lance in the spear-crate we brought you in. It's still sitting outside behind my house in the alley."
The Demacian nodded her head, taking LeBlanc's hand before standing up on her feet.
The both of them walked out of the basement, the Deceiver turning off all the lights before they landed in her living room. She pushed the door shut behind herself and guided Sona towards the bag. LeBlanc opened her door and immediately, they were greeted with the torrential winds and drowning showers accompanying the murky clouds and symphonious clashes of thunder and lightning.
LeBlanc and Sona pushed all of their fingers underneath the bag and lifted it up, the both of them starting to guide it out of the Deceiver's home. They took it to the alley which the spear-crate sat in, the opening greeting them as they both remembered that they would have to nail it back up.
"Go back inside and get my staff in the basement." LeBlanc ordered. "Also, get a hammer and some nails."
Sona nodded and hurried back around to the front of the house.
The Noxian grunted as she dropped Lance's body inside of the crate, looking up at the sky as the waterfalls of rain battered down against her skin, ruining the black eyeliner and purple lipstick beautifying her face. Behind herself, she could hear bare-footsteps splashing in puddles of water, each stride sounding closer and closer as she turned around to see Sona holding her staff, a hammer and a box of nails.
"Is everything okay?" LeBlanc asked as she watched Sona's body, noticing how the Maven's blue dress was drenched in water, causing it to tightly hug her curves and outline her delicates.
Sona nodded and rested LeBlanc's staff against the wall, handing the Deceiver the hammer and nails afterwards.
LeBlanc oddly smirked at the Demacian as she took grip of the hammer, her eyes unable to peel themselves away from the Maven's gorgeous body.
No matter how severe the situation is, I can't help but admire her beauty.
The Noxian finally broke her gaze, turning around and grabbing the fallen front-panel of the spear-crate, lifting it up and putting it against the box. Sona came to LeBlanc's side, helping pin the panel against the crate as LeBlanc began to attempt to quietly nail it down. The Demacian and the Noxian couldn't help but dart their heads side to side every time thunder clashed, their bodies shaking in the cold rain as they felt as if someone would catch them any moment now.
"That's good enough." LeBlanc said as she walked away from the crate, seeing Sona stare at her confusingly. "What?"
The Demacian's eyebrows furrowed as she rose her right hand up in the air, four of her fingers standing erect before she pointed at the box of nails by her feet.
"Are you asking why I only used four nails?" The Deceiver asked.
Sona nodded.
"B-because I really want to get back inside." LeBlanc stated. "And besides – I'm going destroy this crate."
Sona cocked her head back and widened her eyes, pulling her eyes away from LeBlanc's mischievous grin before she glanced over at the staff resting against the wall by her side.
The Maven became even more confused, wondering why she even brought the hammer and nails if LeBlanc was going to destroy the crate anyways.
"Go back inside." LeBlanc commanded as she walked forward and past Sona, her fingers wrapping around the shaft of her staff before she rose it up in the air.
Sona nodded and hurried away, her footsteps getting quieter and quieter as they splashed in the rain around and to the front of the house.
The jewel at the head of LeBlanc's staff began to glow a bright pink as it began to spin incredibly fast. The Deceiver pointed it away from the wooden crate, waiting a few seconds until thunder crashed, hurling her arm forward to point the glowing weapon towards the single-corpse-filled spear-crate.
A bright, yellow-glowing sigil flew forward and then another pink one followed it. The thunder masked the sounds of destruction, the wooden splinters of the box flying apart, some even hitting LeBlanc's body before they all landed on the floor around her.
A few quiet seconds passed by as LeBlanc stared at the fragments of Lance's corpse littering the walls of the alleyway, the remnants of the box, the gardening bag, and the interrogator's body burning up into ashes before washing down into a sewer drain.
And thus, there was no evidence.
Except for his blood in my basement.