Hitmare

The funeral came two days later. I did my bit, of course- I wore black, I cried, gave my condolences, all the usual stuff. The only difference was that these tears weren't just Fluttershy's. They were Zule's as well. Because that was the thing- I'd never before felt remorseful about a kill.

<--->

I found myself in the bar again. It really was a proper dump, now that I considered it. Nevertheless, it was where the jobs were, so naturally I had to follow.

"Another 3. Have you any absinthe?" I said, a weak attempt at some kind of humour. The barkeeper wordlessly placed the full glass of vodka on the table, which I immediately sipped. I always remained silent at the bar save for ordering, so he did the same. It used to be awkward. Now it's just devoid of any kind of emotion whatsoever.

I felt a cold breeze on my back hooves as the door opened. The clopping of hooves on the wooden floor grew steadily louder as the pony approached me.

"Who?" I said simply. I could tell from the steady, brisk rhythm of their hoofsteps that they knew what they were doing.

A photo was put on the bar and I made sure to look at it this time. I spluttered in astonishment. "If you seriously want this done, I'm taking at least 100k."

"Well then more money I'll have to get, but this mare will still die yet."