Prompt: Bullet. Yeah, pretty much that.
Dedication: Team Schadenfreude. You guys are such amazing team members and I love you all, and I will cherish this past month as one of my 'firsts'. :)
Bullet
by Autumn Win-Dow
(AoGA House Cup. Words: 1008)
As soon as you sensed her presence, you directed your gun directly towards her eye. Despite the darkness surrounding you, you still knew that she was there – she had made far too much noise to be creeping around, and you weren't going to let her escape this time.
You watch as Mikan's eyes widen at the sight of the firearm in your hand. She asked you in a panic why you were in ownership of such a dangerous weapon, and why you aimed it in the direction you did. You watch her as she trembles in fear at the sight, and you are confused as to why she was so scared in the first place.
She looked around the room, in desperate search of an exit, as you keep your eyes glued on her. As her eyes shift towards the walls and the floor, they easily betray her fear – something which you were all too used to.
Your hand started to tremble as well – you could feel the sweat from your hands making your grip on the gun slippery, and your exact point of aim seemed to shift every split second because of your nerves.
It was because you only had a single bullet in your gun.
You felt that the bullet should have somewhat reassured you – it was shiny, smooth, metal, and had the ability to pierce through someone's head like butter. But your finger on the trigger was still stiff and unmovable, as if the hands of a tender baby were holding it back with a youthful ignorance which not even you could defy.
Children were admittedly one of your weaknesses, even when imaginary.
You felt like breaking down – you wanted to release your grip on the small but ruthless trigger, and bring your hand, along with the firearm, down until it was hanging by your side. You had sworn all your life that after the traumatic experiences you had as a Dangerous Ability student of Alice Academy, you wouldn't kill another soul – not even for your life.
But you realised at that moment in time – as you stood in a room of flames, wine stains and antique furniture – that your younger self had terribly miscalculated one thing.
The sudden epiphany led you to tense your arm, and aim the firearm right at her horrified eyes once again, ready to shoot. Mikan raised her arms in front of her face and screamed in terror as she saw a glimpse of your enraged, determined expression.
Shutting your eyes tightly, you tightened your fist and pulled the trigger.
…
…
…
I would, without a doubt, kill another soul to save her life.
The feeling of the bullet shooting out of the gun was powerful enough to send your arm almost flying, and you almost stumbled back in your steps. Your fingers became slack, and the gun dropped from your hand – falling onto the shiny timber of the ground with a loud, dead clatter.
The flickering of the flames didn't bother you at that moment. You felt like the child predator you once was – indifferent, ruthless, and surrounded by a menacing ring of fire created by none other – but the pain from killing the woman in front of you mirrored exactly your sombre emotions during your first kill.
You were eight back then.
Eight, but already a killer with blood stained all over you – your hands, your legs, your teeth, your face.
Eight, but already a boy of whom had committed a sin too serious to be punished by time-outs or detention.
Eight, but already a child who – in exchange for his own life – took away the lives of countless others.
sin·ner: /ˈsinər/ noun. A person who transgresses against divine law by committing an immoral act or acts.
You were a sinner – if not anything more.
But you knew of one thing which made the Natsume Hyuuga now different to the eight year old child – and somehow, despite the irrelevancy which seemed to be associated to this factor, it made more of a difference than it should have.
You turned towards Mikan Sakura, as she pressed her back on the wall near the fireplace, as she watched you, aghast. Her eyes nervously flitted between you and the now larger key hole – widened considerably because of the speed of the bullet and the accuracy of your shot.
However, the key hole wasn't the only thing you were initially intent on piercing.
You take a few wide strides towards the door – now unlocked due to your shot – and twist the door knob open. You exhale deeply – while the growing smell of smoke tingled your nostrils – you pushed open the door, only to find that a limp body was blocking it from opening completely.
Mikan gasped before she grabbed your arm and shook it violently – angrily demanding why there was a woman's dead body in front of the door, and why there was a fresh gunshot where her eye once was. You could feel her hands trembling at the thought of you killing someone right in front of her eyes.
However, you ignored her sobs and pleas, as you glared at the dead body of Luna Koizumi.
Mikan was much too innocent to face the harsh reality that the world was – while she was attending a school in the country and enthusiastically joining singing competitions and little cliques, you were watching buildings burn in front of you, as the fresh blood of others dripped from your hands.
That was exactly why you weren't going to tell her that Luna was the one who had been one of the people plotting your capture and murder.
You knew that someone was watching you and Mikan from the small window of light in the key hole.
So, you did what you knew you did best.
You killed.
And you had succeeded, but not so admirably.
Because even when you killed, you felt like the child you once was - vulnerable, alone, and with almost nothing to lose.
...almost.
A/N: Well, yes, I haven't written a one-shot in a while. And an angst oneshot, at that. It's really been a while, and I return with open arms. :)