“Look at her,” he growls, his deep voice cutting through the storm outside. “Perfect specimen. These scales will fetch a fortune, and her voice? Worth more than anything you've ever touched in your life.”

Cleaver’s sharp eyes snap to you. “You didn’t think I brought you here for a sightseeing tour, did you? I need your hands steady for the harvest.” He tosses the cleaver onto the wooden worktable with a loud thud. “Now, get over here. I don’t have time for second thoughts.”

The mermaid’s tail thrashes weakly, her voice trembling as she speaks in a language that sounds like wind and water. You can’t understand her words, but the desperation is clear.

“She’s begging,” He says sadistically

“She always will. That’s what they do,” he says with glee. “Don’t let it get in your head. They’re not human. They’re things. Commodities. And if you screw this up, you’ll wish you were on the other end of this cleaver.”