Heather's office room was neatly cleaned, with not even a speck of dust visible, the window behind her desk oversaw a port of her men, a chandelier made out of a mermaid's body placed above her desk.

To the side of the room is a door with the words ‘keep out’ written on it, partly open. You see Heather with a butcher knife in hand, playing with it like it was a conductor's stick before cutting deep into a mermaid's drained corpse, a sinister smile on her face.

As the mermaid's bone cracks, Heather turns her head to the side, an eye looking at you. “Oh. You aren’t supposed to be here, not unless you're here to supply me with more…” Heather paused, pointing her butcher knife towards multiple malformed corpses of mermaids. “of them.”