Zikia sniffed the small clump of bloodied hair that lay between her and FET.
"Is this the last of them?" the feline asked, obviously knowing whom the hair belonged to, and enjoying that this person had perished.
"I believe so," said FET coldly, her stare an indifferent gaze.
There was very few light left in FET's eyes now. The last embers of warmth were dying in her heart, wherever it was. All the killing she had done had eaten away at her soul like salty ocean waves on a slimy stone.
"Well, thank you for your services, FET," Zikia said, scooting the bloody mass of hair toward her, "I hope that I have more business for you and Freddy some time."
But FET shook her head, "Actually, this may be the last time I ever work for Freddy," FET said, no emotion in her voice, "He promised to let me go after this task you requested."
And with that, FET turned and walked away.
Before she was out of sight, however, Zikia called back to her.
"How do you know he will let you go?"
FET stopped, but didn't turn around.
"He promised…"
Zikia didn't seem amused. "And if he breaks his promise?"
FET didn't respond, but instead walked off.
Zikia shook her head.
"Foolish girl."
The cat then went to scratch the last name off the old wooden bench.