Felicia, bruised and battered, could only writhe against the wall and mewl as the pistol barrel wedged up under her jaw.
"What life are you on at this point?" the red-hooded girl asked her with a psychotic smirk. "Seventh? Eighth?"
The pistol worked it's way up her chin, eventually forcing itself into her mouth.
"Well, by my count... you've got at least one left in the tank."
The pistol pulled away, a thin trail of saliva briefly keeping it connected to her before even that broke. The cat-woman almost got to breathe a sigh of relief before it came back to smack her across the face, causing her to slide down the wall she was pressed against in a murky daze.
She vaguely felt a pressure form on her throat, and as she fully came to the first thing her vision focused on was a leash. A leash starting at the new collar around her neck, and ending wrapped around the fist of the maniac in front of her.
"The client who asked for you specifically wanted ya delivered in one piece. Congrats."
B.B. Hood yanked on the leash, forcing Felicia forward and down onto all fours.
"Granted, I can do a lot to you and still technically not break that promise."
Hood pressed a small button on her end of the leash, and the collar around Felicia's neck began to constrict. Gasping for air, but too afraid of possible repercussions to attempt freeing herself, the Darkstalker could only turn her watery emerald eyes up to her captor in a breathless plea for mercy.
"The drop off point is about three miles thattaway." Hood continued, ignoring the appeal entirely while hooking her thumb down a nearby road. "Ya better get moving if you want to make it. Let's go for walkies."
Felicia began to weakly crawl, and B.B. Hood -- beaming as she held her new pet's leash -- skipped along closely behind her. Who said that herding cats was hard?