He didn’t.  At the end of the day, I was only a child, half-drowned in the heavy rain.

“Out of my way if you don’t want to get run over,” he said.

I stepped closer, and I stuck the letter opener into his crotch.  Not hard enough to pierce anything, but enough to let him know there was a point to it.

I didn’t say or do anything.  I remained where I was, a blade held close to a part no man wanted to lose.

I waited, once more, not moving or making a noise, hoping he would come around this time.

My hand went up, holding the soaked cards with their running ink.  He caught my wrist, and for a second I thought he had me.

I pushed the point a little deeper, and his entire pelvis moved back.  I was careful to keep the blade in place.  I suspected the point might have hooked on a tag of skin, incentivizing him to stay right where he was.

Wildbow, Twig, 1.8