The coppery tang of blood clung to her like a perfume. Raw meat stacked high all around - of steaks, tenderloins, legs and thighs. Wildberry Princess reached into the box at her feet and drew another chicken, her arms bloodied up to her elbows. The cold meat slapped unto the wood table with a wet smack, and she reached for her carving knife and began to cut along the spine.
She stopped when a sudden chill shot through her. She looked over her shoulder and saw a shadow slip into the room, crawl along the floor and spring up before her on the other side of the table. His whole body was like oil - dark, rippling. His entire head was wrapped in cloth, save for a pair of piercing red eyes.
Wildberry Princess smiled at him, deceptively sweet as she was spattered brown in the drying blood of animals. "You're here," she said. "Good." The assassin only stared. "You don't talk much. I like that. So you heard from my associate?" A slow shake of the head. "Typical," sighed the princess, tearing out the chicken's spine and tossing it into a giant barrel that will be used for stock.
When she looked back at the assassin, he was still staring. "You don't seem bothered by my peoples' love of meat. Everybody is, though most are too afraid or unsettled to say something. Do you know how our, heh, appetite originated?" He shook his head. "Not many do. Fewer even know where we princesses come from. Well, a thousand years ago there were some very stupid people, who had some very selfish agendas. War was inevitable." Wildberry Princess channeled her anger with a stab of the knife, harshly carving out the chicken's breasts and tossing them into a pile.
"Now these stupid people had a lot of other stupid people following them, like ducklings following their mother." She set the knife aside and wrapped her little bloodied hands around the chicken's legs and pulled till she heard them pop from their sockets. "These ducklings needed to feed, however. So the stupid people mass produced large quantities of fruit and nuts to feed their flocks, so that they may proceed with their selfish agendas without heed."
She carved out each leg, thigh and all, and lazily tossed them into their at her right. The assassin showed no change in his posture from when he first appeared. "I oftentimes find myself wondering why the stupid people used those Mushroom Bombs. Doing so killed their land, killed their culture, and in the end, killed themselves. But it did work in killing their enemies, and their selfish agendas. Is it worth it, I ask? To kill yourself and destroy your selfish agendas just to prevent your enemy from achieving such hopes?" The assassin did not shrug, nor move a muscle. He was like a gargoyle. Wildberry Princess continued without heed as she grabbed the chicken by its wings. "Perhaps the world will never know," she sullenly muttered. She twisted the wings until they popped grotesquely in her hands.
"But by some magic or science or whathaveyou, the Mushroom Bombs brought on new life. They got everywhere - in the water, in the land itself, in the candy and even space itself. And in the food." Wildberry Princess took her curved knife and sliced each of the wings and added them to the pile. "Thus the Wildberry Kingdom was born, and the Peanut Kingdom. But there wasn't much food for us to eat in this ruinous world. Only a whole lot of bodies. And I was the only one strong enough to lead my infant people to salvation." She looked up at the assassin and smiled grimly, unsure of whether or not her was unsettled behind that mask. "I think you can figure out the rest."
Wildberry Princess straightened up and strode to a nearby sing, drawing a wet washcloth from it. "It's a sordid history, I know. But not one that I'm ashamed of." She scrubbed her thin green arms of the dry flaky blood. It was warm on her grassy flesh. "You're a good listener," she said as she scrubbed. "I think we're to become the best of friends - you, me, and my associate. But I suppose you came for the targets, not alliances or a history lesson. Very well." She tossed the now-pinkish washcloth back into the sink and watched the water around it turn red.
She strode back to the assassin, smiling happily. "These are the hits." She drew a folder from under her chair and handed it to him. He grabbed it in his long, thin red hands and read carefully. "But I don't want you to kill them - that's for me, my associate and I. We just want them captured." When he looked at her, she feared for a moment he might decline but after a long paused second he nodded slowly.
"Great." Wildberry Princess smiled, feeling a heat swell in her belly. "We want you to do it as those papers say, too. Exactly, or no pay. Lure Finn the Human with the threat of a princess, preferably the flame one or PB. Crush his hero heart, and throw him in the darkest cell of my associate's dungeon. Jake the Dog can be easily baited if you were to threaten his wife or kids. You could actually kill them if you want, it makes no matter to me. Trap him in my meat grinder over here." She gestured to the mechanical monstrosity she used to make burger patties. The assassin glanced at it and gave her a stare. "It won't kill him, but it will be painful. Good? Good. Marceline the Vampire Queen will be so easy it'll be like tricking a baby. Just lure her in by threatening Ice King and then trap her in the Pit outside: no escape, sunlight fifteen hours a day."
"Next is Flame Princess. Yes, she's your queen but I don't think you really care, do you?" He shook his head. "Excellent. You can play with her emotions like clay - threaten her kingdom, call her a liar, spread secrets, whatever. Incapacitate her and when she wakes up she'll find herself on an island in the middle of the ocean that is only three feet across. Then she will know what it's like to be teetering on the edge of death." Wildberry Princess spat the words like poison - she never liked Flame Princess, nor her attitude towards ruling. Honesty? How childishly naive.
"And finally...Princess Bubblegum. Go all out on this one, my friend. Show her around Ooo. You know where. Show her all nine-hundred years of failures, regrets and actions she alone has wrought upon herself and the land. Then bring her to my associate so that she may face judgement. Do you accept these contracts?"
The folder vanished from his hand in a gout of fire. He nodded.
"Good. Once completed, we will hand-deliver your two-million gold pieces at the designated location. Happy hunting, Scorcher." The assassin disappeared in a veil of fire. This brief snap of light cast a glare across the meat grinder, the table of meats and prime ribs hanging on the wall.
Satisfied, Wildberry strode to her desk and wrote a letter to her associate. All it said was, It's done. She signed it and closed the letter with his wax seal - the seal of a lemon, over a sound-sword and scepter crossing.
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