The body dropped where it stood. Draven held the head by the hair. He walked back to the table as if nothing unusual had just happened. He dropped his head on the table. It landed with a heavy thud. The eyes and mouth were open.
"Seven should still work," Draven said.
Then he pushed the head forward. It rolled across the table. Past one man. Past another. It rolled to the far end of the table and fell off the edge.
Draven looked at the men. The smirk returned to his face.
"Would anyone else like to leave?" he asked in a calm tone.
No response.
"Would anyone else like to go tell Zareth about this meeting?" He asked again.
No one spoke. No one moved.
"Good," Draven said. He sat down in his chair.
He did not need to threaten them with words. The headless body on the floor was enough.
"If you have any questions, you can ask me." Draven leaned into his chair.
One of the men spoke. His voice was shaky. "What…are your..plans?"
