I closed my eyes.
I was jerked out of the darkness of sleep into the vision field of someone else. This person was staring down at a woman and her (supposed) daughter. They were both cowering in fear and (as I grew used to the feel of this new body) I realized why. The man, whose body I was watching this from, was aiming an arrow at them. There was only one man I knew that practiced archery and what I heard next confirmed my suspicions.
"What use are these two to us?" It was the voice of that man that had taken over Clint. The man named Loki.
I was in Clint's body… Oh, that's right! When I tapped into Clint's mind the day I lost him, I gained access to knowing exactly what he was thinking, doing, and his exact location at any given time.
But if I "was" him… oh no.
"None," Loki said nonchalantly. "You may dispose of them."
I heard Loki's footsteps fade and the eyes of the two females widened quite a bit.
"Please," said the older woman and she confirmed my suspicions. "Not in front of my daughter."
Clint shot her straight through the head.
Her eyes rolled back and she hit the ground hard. Blood began to pool in a puddle around the woman's head.
"Mommy?" The little girl pleaded, starting to cry. "Mommy! Wake up, Mommy!"
Clint shot her too.
She fell down next to her mother; the arrow sticking out of her head looked like one of those fake "shot in the head" arrow headband things. Her blood was quickly mixing with her mother's.
Clint reached over and ripped both of the arrows out of the girls' heads. He didn't even bother to wipe off the blood, merely putting the arrows back in his quiver. Then he turned and followed after Loki.
I woke up screaming and leaned forward in a sitting position in bed. I clapped my hands over my mouth, cutting off the scream.
My hands still covering my mouth, I started to cry uncontrollably. My cries were completely silent, but they terrified me. I hadn't cried like this – I hadn't cried at all in years. I could tell I was on the verge of becoming hysterical so I gently clutched the arrowhead pendant Clint had given me once.
My breathing slowed considerably enough for me to take my other hand away from my mouth. I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them with my free arm as I continued to stroke my pendant with my thumb.
What if I couldn't get Clint back?