As the last word leave Ia's mouth, Vergil is standing behind her, his sword by his side. He swings the sword, blood flings off the blade and splatters onto the floor and walls. He gentally shealthes the blade and speaks calmly, a hint of anger in his voice. "I told you not to argue with me."
Ia's body falls to the ground, her lower half and top half seperatered. She had been seavered in half at the waist.
Vergil looks down at badly bleed female, "I hate when the weak talk tough." He steps over the fastly spreading puddle of red liquid and takes a few more steps.
Ia's vision starts to blur, the blood around her, growing. She starts to black out, the colors fade, and the items go out of focus.
Vergil, with his back to the helplessly bleeding female, opens his mouth once more, "You seem to do that alot, Ia." With those words, he starts to walk slowly, slowly escaping Ia's sight.
Small, pitch black, dark hands creep from the shadows around Ia, most come from the shadows under her body. The hands wrap around Ia's body, slowly consuming her, slowly covering her entire body. The hand pull her down, just as slowly as they had covered her. They pull her down through the surface of the underworld. They pull her down into the deep, dark, horrifying, depths of the underworld.