One Dish, Served Cold

The gun was pointed at his head. Although he didn't recognise the woman holding it there, he had a sinking feeling she was the woman his girlfriend had left him for months before.

The woman stared him straight in the eyes. All the stories of abuse told by her lover, all the long-distance threats made toward her ­- it all came down to this single moment in time.

"Down on your knees," she ordered. When he hesitated, she jabbed him in the face with the barrel of the gun. His bladder abandoned him before his courage did. He dropped to his knees and opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a choked "please" in a voice he didn't recognise.

Without hesitation, she placed seven shots into his chest. His body bent back over his legs after the first shot, but she didn't stop firing. She stood over him and fired a final shot into his forehead.

"Factum est," she said, turning and walking away.