**The Walther PPK: A Unique Offer**
Prompt: Gunsmith cats fanfiction may tells rally that while she was out a customer came in wanting to sell Walther ppk he says belonged to Hitler
Rally Vincent adjusted the glasses perched on her nose as she leaned closer to the display case in her shop, Gunsmith Cats. The faint chime of the bell on the door interrupted her concentration, and she turned her head to see a tall, scruffy man stepping into the store. He looked out of place amidst the sleek guns and polished wood that adorned her walls. A weary expression crossed his face, as if he had made a long journey to come here, searching for something he wasn't quite sure he could find.
“Can I help you?” Rally asked, her tone professionally warm.
The man shifted on his feet, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was hoping to… sell something.” He hesitated, pulling a worn leather case from his side.
Rally’s curiosity piqued. “What do you have?”
He opened the case slowly, revealing a firearm nestled inside. She caught her breath; it was a Walther PPK, its sleek, compact design both elegant and intimidating in its own right. “This here,” the man said, his voice a mixture of pride and uncertainty, “is a Walther PPK. And it belonged to Adolf Hitler.”
Rally raised an eyebrow, looking back at the gun with more scrutiny. “You’re serious? That’s quite a claim. Do you have any proof?”
“I have papers,” he replied, frowning slightly. “I inherited it from my grandfather. He was a soldier during the war and somehow ended up with it.” He paused, his eyes darting over the shop, as if the ghosts of history were whispering to him. “I know it sounds crazy, but the family story has always been that it was part of Hitler's personal collection.”
Rally took a step forward, leaning onto the glass counter, intrigued. “Can I see the papers?”
The man fished through his bag, producing a few yellowed documents. Rally examined them carefully, she could see that they had been well-loved, several creases worn into their surface. “These look old, but authentic,” she murmured. “Where exactly did your grandfather get this?”
“From one of his comrades,” the man said, a cloud of memory darkening his expression. “They retrieved it from a bunker when they moved through Berlin. It’s been sitting in a safety deposit box for years now, and I figured it's time to let go of it.”
Rally straightened, processing the implications. “It could fetch a pretty penny. Firearms with such a historical connection are rare.” She wondered about the morality of selling something tied to one of history’s darkest figures, but it also represented a unique opportunity.
The man nodded, apprehension creeping into his voice. “I understand if you’re wary. But this isn’t like selling something else. This has history. It’s dark history.” He sighed, the weight of what he was offering starting to settle into the space between them. “I just want to do it right. I don’t want this to end up in the wrong hands.”
Rally could see the man was sincere; the anguish around his eyes told of a deep conflict. “What do you want for it?” she asked, her business acumen taking over.
He hesitated, looking thoughtful. “I’m not sure. I guess I just want what it’s worth… maybe more if I can find the right buyer. Call it five thousand?”
Rally considered this, weighing her own knowledge of the market. “It’s a tough call. Historically significant, yes, but do you realize how controversial this would be?”
“Which is exactly why I thought of coming to you,” he said, his voice slightly pleading. “You’re one of the few shops that I trust to handle it properly. I want someone discreet.”
With a deep breath, Rally decided to take the plunge. “Okay, I’ll give you the five thousand right now. But let me do some research, see if those papers can vouch for this story.”
The man agreed, and after some negotiation, they shook hands, sealing the deal. As he left, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far more complicated than a simple transaction.
Later that evening, Rally rifled through the papers again, jotting down notes on her pad. She found herself ensnared by the confluence of history, morality, and ownership tangled up in the sale of the PPK. Would she ultimately profit from something so inextricably linked to the horrors of the past?
Just then, her partner, May, strolled in with a bag from the local taco joint. “Hey, I brought dinner! What’s that?” she asked, a mouth full of food as she saw the Walther PPK lying on the counter.
“May,” Rally said, shaking her head in disbelief, “you’re not going to believe this. I just made a deal to buy a gun that allegedly belonged to Hitler.”
May’s eyes widened. “You’re joking! Rally, that’s insane! Do you really think it’s real?”
“I don’t know,” Rally replied, her fingers tracing the smooth lines of the gun. “But I’ll find out. In the meantime, we’ve got to approach this delicately. This isn’t just any transaction.”
May leaned against the counter, her expression shifting from shock to concern. “Okay, I trust you. Just be careful, alright? You know how some collectors can get. This could draw all sorts of attention.”
Rally nodded, the weight of the PPK feeling heavier in her hands. She could already imagine local news crews buzzing with the story, eager to delve into the scandal of a gunsmith selling a piece of Nazi history. “Yeah, I’ll handle it. But the more I think about it, the more I realize this can’t just be about profit. After all, there’s life beyond the history in this.”
The two women began to strategize over dinner, Rally scribbling out ideas and thoughts while May offered her insights. As the shadows stretched across the workshop’s wooden floors, they began to frame a plan that balanced ethical selling with historical respect.
Ultimately, the Walther PPK was just one gun among many in Rally's collection—but not every firearm carried the echoes of past horrors. And as she glanced at it, she felt an urgency to protect its story and to honor both its history and her own moral compass.
Unbeknownst to her, that night would become a turning point, setting in motion events that would intertwine her life, and the lives of those around her, with the shadows of history in ways she had never anticipated.
