[ WP ] One grandma , one assault rifle , one mission ...

`` You killed my son. You killed my husband, and by Jove, he survived the war. But you wo n't be killin' me. You wo n't be killin' ol' Janet.'' 
 
 The creature looked over it's quarry, at the particular stick it held in it's flimsy and yet so tasty arms. But it felt apprehension. 
 
 `` Do you know what a caliber is? I'mma guessin' not. But I do. This here, it could be.22 LR. You could walk away, limping your devil's blood. Then again, it could be 45.70.'' 
 
 The beast stared her down. 
 
 `` This was his man-stopper rifle. He always used to carve little crosses into the heads of his bullets, to finish off the bad-guys quicker, he reckoned. But today, I'mma thinking these crosses serve a different purpose. Because you are n't human, beast.'' 
 
 It had listened enough. It was time to strike, but something was wrong. It's body locked up, felt intense pain striking up what passed for it's nerves. 
 
 `` I never fire a warning shot. You'll be buried in the backyard, along with the rest of you things. The police never believed me anyways, after the first time. Say goodnight, Gracie.'' 
 
 She delivered the medicine, and readied the shovel. For age had made her not only wise, but strong.
