“I’m back, Master.” The noise of something fleshy dragging along the floor accompanied the small voice coming from the darkness. There was a small light in the corner of the large room, casting a creepy glow across the floor and illuminating the corners of the walls.
“I’m not sure if this was the one you wanted,” said the voice. It sounded like it was walking toward the light, dragging whatever was behind it. After a second, the dragging sound stopped.
In the little light in the corner was a small cat, a child perhaps. It was covered in blood, and in its small hands was a knife: just big enough to cause serious injury, yet small enough to be cleverly concealed in a palm or up a sleeve. Beside it was a bloody lump of fur, its head covered in small stab wounds.
“You told me the one with grey fur and purple eyes,” said the small cat.
“Correct,” another voice said from the darkness. “The Divines will bless you greatly.”
The second voice was low-pitched and booming, echoing across the massive chamber in an almost authoritative manner.
“Something feels wrong,” the small cat said.
“What?” There was a hint of annoyance in their voice.
“The murder, it doesn’t feel right. You’ve never told me why you want them dead.”
“I am your Master. I shouldn’t need to have to tell you that information.” There was a bit of hesitation in that sentence, almost like they thought the little cat had a point.
