“Gladius, broadsword, rapier, main gauche, sabres, scimitars…” Clara rhymed off.
“Watch it, ma chère,” Evelyn said in those musical tones. “Marc is getting hard on.”
The giggle that followed calmed her down. In a room full of dead with hateful goddesses on the loose, this was not the time to use the term ‘watch it,’ still she was thankful for the company.
“Funny,” Clara said.
She already had a pistol, so a pair of duelling flint locks did not interest her. She wanted something light weight, sturdy, and useful in close quarters. The weapon she had in mind did not appear to be on the wall.
“If I were a cutlass,” Clara mused. “Where would I be?”
“Non, Marc,” Evelyn said. “I will not pass that on.”
“Not a fan of my choice?” Clara confirmed.
“Ma chère,” Evelyn said. “Don’t expect a Christmas gift this year.”
Disclaimer: This excerpt from The Van Helsing Impetus is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. The image is sourced from Pexels.
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