CHAPTER 18
1081 Words
I heard another gunshot and it took me back to reality once more. When I titled my eyes to find the root source of the sound, I found my eyes clinging toward the direction of this household’s master, beyond his protective glass lies his clear oceanic-blue eyes that were trying their best not to withdraw from my direction as well. All of a sudden, the thudding in my chest came in that made me feel as though I am too nervous when in fact I’m not. For some reason, I’d like to believe that it’s the master who’s causing me to have this kind of body reaction whenever I exchange a glare with him. But to my wonder, how does he do that had my hunches were true?
He can’t possibly be some kind of a witch or elemental being that could manipulate me and my body according to his will. I am overthinking again. It’s crazy, I guess not all men could be like that Stefano guy. At least for Stefano, he was able to conceal his beastly side, unlike this man they call master-- who has already taken the spotlight long before he’s been asked to exposed his beastly nature.
Leandro helped me out with the gears while still going on with his orientation, “Miss Emalia, please remember these four gun safety protocols; one, please treat every firearm you see as if it’s loaded. Two, never willing to point a gun you are not willing to destroy. Three, Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to fire. And four, Be sure of your target and what is behind it.” After being into the professional range officer he is, Leandro quickly loaded the magazines for me. "Ready to roll, miss Emalia?" he asked.
I didn't quite understand what it means but I just nodded back to agree. He didn't follow up a question so I suppose it's acceptable enough not to make any verbal reply from here.
"Master is taking a break, why don't you move to your bay so you can give this a try?" He even said. I never held any single type of gun in my whole life, let alone fire it. And yet, just touching the handgun gives me the sense of feeling that is so traumatizing. It was as though I've tried aiming for something before and even killing them, but then again, I guess I'm just imagining things once more.
I position myself as Leandro gives his final instruction, "This is an M9 9mm Automatic Pistol, it holds a fifteen-round magazine." He was still talking so much about the handgun but all my attention is already focused on the target. I didn't get the chance to hear anything else that he said, all I'm just aiming for so suddenly at the moment was the idea that I wanted to aim for the target.
My hand freely pulled the trigger without thinking after my arms angled forward, fronting towards the target. The firing sound was indeed deafening having to hear it simultaneously.
What am I doing?
My hands locking the handgun so intensely using both hands while my right index keeps on pulling the trigger despite how my mind wants to stop. It was like, my body is moving on its own and I don't have any way to get through my body anymore. This is insane! What is happening with my body?
It was like, I'm completely being neglected by my own body as it freely does what it wants--to keep emptying the magazine until the target is murdered. But before I could even aim next, a different fire from a farther bay ruined my target's hanger in a single aim.
This made me look towards that area and was surprised to see the master of the household with a handgun. I immediately regret moving my side to where he is, because at that instant my hands help the gun up and aimed to fire it against him--the master of this household.
At this point, my fingers are ready to aim for his head. With one shot, I'd be able to shoot him dead. With just one bullet, I can end his tyrant life and freed myself from being captive. But how come I am thinking this way when I am not even a killer. Am I already pushed too much at the edge?
I am completely out of control with my body. This time, as I pulled the trigger, A loud bang echoed inside the range. My eyes were closed the moment I commenced firing. And when I opened my eyes, my body is already shaking. I can now feel my body and my hand. But I was even more surprised to see my arm stretched out towards the hanging target metal boards.
He pulled out his earmuffs and yelled at me for the first time, "What do you think you're doing?!" his stroppy voice echoed in my ears. But what lingered in my hearing wasn't the way his choleric sound vibrated, but it was rather the sound of a bullet from the last gunshot I made. Until I observed my free hands--there was no gun at all.
How can I fire without a gun?
I looked around and saw it beyond the bay. It makes my head begins to ache as I try to envision how things came out like this. How did my gun fly out like that if I was holding it so tightly, and that all I could recall was the picture of me firing towards him? Now, he's standing before me with those furious eyes while taking a grip of my other hand so tightly.
"Where's the gun?" I came to asked. My tone suddenly became calmer. The turbulent shuddering enveloping my entire body is hardly uncontrollable. It also makes me feel as though it's consuming my energy, making me too weak to even answer. This one has been with me since I wake up this morning that's why I don't even feel like eating anything during lunch.
"Have you forgotten the protocols of this range so quickly? How can you be such a dimwit?!" His comments were trying to strike me but they were not painful enough to get my attention away from this thing--whatever it is--that's slowly consuming my energy. I was not prepared to answer him, especially when he added saying, "--Or was it that you're trying to kill me?"'
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