It was an arcane weapon small enough to fit a woman’s delicate hand, given to a lady of the night for her protection.
When the stranger came, she knew him for what he was and refused his advances. His reaction was swiftly vicious, with the body of her little sleeve dog delivered as notice of his intent.
She dried her tears and went to his office, where she was admitted to his presence without question. He looked up. Into the twin barrels of the derringer.
She shot him in the testicles first. And, when he screamed, through his open mouth.
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