She heard the soft, hissing tick of clockwork somewhere close by. The sound faded in and out as though someone was holding a watch close to her ear, then removing it.
She dismissed the distraction. Doctor Syncopal would make his move soon.
She felt a prick on the back of her neck. She slapped at the irritant, and the tiny machine, a replica of a mosquito in gears and cogs, tumbled into her hand. The glass bulb at the back was half-full.
So it was poison then, the coward. She reached for her auto-pistol. It was time for the showdown.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!