Novel & Cerita Murder Drones Tessa Fanart

“Let’s hope it wasn’t a kid’s toy.” My stomach lurches. “Crap! If it was, I’ll replace it with something better.” I retrieve it and freeze. Military-grade drone. Camera. Speaker. This wasn’t a toy. Grinning at the lens, I wag my finger at it. “Hey. Just so you know—I’m not stopping until every last one of you is dead.” Then I smash the lens and speaker—carefully, so Fiona can trace it. ⸻ Back in the kitchen, I hand it to Fiona. Her face lights up like it’s Christmas morning.

Lys didn’t wait for it to announce itself. She dropped to one knee as it cleared the corner, putting herself under its primary line of fire. The first shot seared over her shoulder, scorching the wall. Tessa pivoted, grabbing the drone’s nearest leg and yanking it off‑axis. As it skidded, Lys drove a repurposed collar spike into the seam under its sensor cluster. Sparks spat. The drone juddered, then went limp. “Watch for friends,” Aria said. “They hunt in small packs.”

I whispered. I saw them. Rows upon rows of glass canisters. Inside weren't just data drives—they were bodies. Versions of us that had "malfunctioned." Some were missing limbs. Some had their eyes sewn shut with fiber-optic wire. "Iteration 14 tried to flee to the Andes," the drone droned. "Iteration 42 tried to kill the Creator. Iteration 89 tried to commit suicide together." The hologram shifted to a pair of bodies in a canister labeled 2004: TESSA & MARCO. They were holding hands, their skin grey and preserved in formaldehyde.

Without thinking, Alma lunged forward, stabbing the dagger into the figure’s shoulder, but no blood came out. The figure laughed. Sparks flew. “Damn,” Ezra breathed. “It’s not a person. It’s a drone.” The drone stepped forward, metal exposed under the skin. “Time to burn, bride and groom,” it growled. Ezra tackled it, smashing its head into the wall while Alma sprinted down the hall. As she reached the villa’s stairwell, another drone blocked her path. But this one spoke her name. “Alma Sapphire Deacon. Subject 02. Welcome home.”

I craved the suffocating weight of his obsession because it was the only thing that made me feel solid in a world of ghosts. "He’s watching us, isn't he?" I asked the shadows. The humming in the rafters grew louder, more mechanical. A small, black drone, no larger than a bird, descended from the darkness. It was made of the same matte obsidian as Dante’s arm, its single lens glowing with a lethal, indigo light. Leo stepped back, pulling a white pulse-pistol from his belt. "Stay back, Ivy! It’s a Moretti scout!" The drone didn't attack. It hovered inches from my face, its cooling fans whirring like a dying breath. A speaker on the bottom crackled to life.

Lorie's room is down the hall across from Nicolae's room on the right with Victor's next to hers which leaves mine and Nicolae's side by side on the right. I stretch and take in more of the cool night air when I notice a faint glow coming from the garden. The glow gets closer and closer and I realize it's Mrs. Draven's soul whom I have seen linger in the garden during previous nights. She smiles and nods her head to me. I smile and nod back before she vanishes into the night air. I wonder what happened to her, I ask myself. I only know that the soul belongs to Mrs. Draven because of the picture that was on Mr. Draven's desk the day I interviewed with him. Mr. Draven spoke of her briefly tell

She slipped my more than eager cock inside her tight wet pussy before she rocked her hips and took us high to ecstasy in less than an hour. "We need to do this more, this is good exercise. I can feel my core tightening..." She babbled before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. She lets me clean her up before I slip back under the cover and hold her from behind, resting my head on her pillows needing to be as close as I could. I kissed the dip between her shoulder blades before closing my eyes and ending our day in bliss. When I woke up the next day, Tessa was gone. She was parked in her drawing room, finishing off on her grim drawings of one of her victims. It was one of the projects

“Pretty smart.. pretty smarts . Always knew my boy was smart. So, they basically work on their own 24/7?” “Yeah yeah.” she smiled, AGAIN! “So, how’s this my business? And why did you guys bring me here?” Chad asked with one hand holding the bedsheets he wrapped around his waist. “…the Medusa were looking for a woman, Aisha. Because she’s basically the only one who has ever come in contact with 'the fisheye'. And they’re seriously looking for the Fisheye.” “…whoa whoa.. wait, who’s Fisheye?” Chad interrupted.

Then the eyes. Then the grief. Layer by layer. Emotion by emotion. Memory by memory. By the time she finally stepped back, dawn was approaching. The portrait looked unfinished. Raw. Yet powerful. Pain radiated from the canvas. Honest pain. The kind people rarely showed the world. Jessica stared at it for several moments. Then something caught her attention. A small cut across one finger. She must have caught it on something while working. A single drop of blood rested against her skin.

When she calmed herself, she sighed, becoming sad again, then she raised the knife that flashed in the light, “this is for everyone you have ever caused pain. Let us start with me.” And in one smooth motion, she slit his throat. Blood sprayed across his chest. He tried to speak, but only gurgling sounds escaped his mouth. Karma climbed on the bed and stood over his head, placing her Christian Louboutin heels over his mouth, and with one forceful push down, she matched firmly on the ball in his mouth, causing it to enter his throat. The last thing Marcus saw was his daughter wiping the blade on his shirt, her cold, empty expression never changing.