Gun Culture Chapter 1
I it was an evil object the moment I saw it sitting there on the table. I knew in the way that a psycic can sense the presences around her, the members of the visitors deceased. I saw the reflections of people in the reflective stock of the grip, and I imagined bloodthirsting rounds streaming from the blackened end of the pistol like red moths, the envoys of the damned. I knew in a moment that the gun had a history, much more than the battered look it suggested. Any gun can look that...