Guns

The night was silent as the stars looked down at the dark woods. Any animals had been scared off, and as the wind rustled a pile of dead leafs it was eerily quiet. Moonlight dimly lit the tree-lined clearing, faintly illuminating two figures. Before them was a set of targets, shrewdly shaped as men.

Suddenly, two loud shots rang out, echoing through the forest. Two of the target-men now had holes in their cardboard foreheads.

"Very good, you have improved."

A smirk could be faintly seen on the shooters face as she lowered the powerful revolvers, slipping them into her holsters that hung low on her hips. The guns were heavy and well-used, with a sandalwood grip and jutting cylinders. They were ancient, and possessed an odd yet handy feature. Each gun fit perfectly in her hands, their aim never faltering under the girls ownership.

Her blonde hair hung over her ocean blue eyes, that were flecked with violet. The girls face was pale under the moon, shaped in a soft oval. Her hair was wild and reached her lower back in wavy layers, reflecting the light to make it look a shining silver. The jeans were ragged and worn, adorning several holes. Her top was a light purple in colour, cropped just above her naval, and once white trainers now splattered in mud fit her feet.

"Hmm, there's something missing..." she paused, a sly smile on her face. Then, her hands blurred as she crossed her arms and snatched her guns, pulling the hammer back and squeezing the trigger in under a second. Her muscled arms were well used to the recoil from the deafening blow.

The man grinned as he observed her addition to the targets. The bullets striked lower, between the top of the cardboard legs. He couldn't help but wince slightly.

"Deadly aim." he muttered, crossing his arms and looking at his pupil. He had taught her everything her knew in the many methods of fighting, ranging from shooting to sword fighting. Over the five years he had known her she had excelled after many hours, days, weeks of almost constant training. The man was old now, and knew he was reaching the end of his life, though he still had plenty of fight left in him. One day he had been contemplating this and came to the decision of adopting a child to train, so his knowledge of the fighting arts would not be lost.

His black hair had faded to a dark grey, but his hazel eyes still held a spark. Once he had been harsh and bad-tempered, but over the years he mellowed into the wise man he was now. His wife passed when she was sixty, leaving him alone with no family and few friends. But then, the shy little ten year old had brightened up his days, revealing her bold and spirited personality as they bonded like father and daughter.

The girl laughed quietly, putting her guns away again. She walked over to the man and leant against a tree, waiting for his next instruction. They usually practised late into the night, for fear of a civilian coming across their training spot. It had never happened before, but fifteen year olds weren't aloud to touch guns, never mind own and shoot with such a deadly pair.

Tim placed a hand on her shoulder, smiling proudly. "You have been an exceptionally good student, Violet. I'm afraid you won't need me any more!"

"Thanks." Violet replied, "But I'll always need you. You're like my dad." She never usually said things like that, but she really meant it. Violet almost always spoke what was on her mind, not caring much about what trouble it could cause, especially when she went to school.

"And you've been the perfect daughter to me." Tim's words of praise were everything to Violet, as he didn't say them very often. To most of the kids in the neighbourhood, he was the type of man who would yell at you if you walked on his front lawn. Usually they would have laughed at this, if it weren't for the fact he carried a rifle on his person.

They sat down in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Violet yawned widely, standing on her tiptoes as she stretched her arms and legs. She rubbed her eyes, not having realized how tired she felt.

Tim laughed at her drooping eyelids as he too stood. "You look tired. We need to get back, don't want you being late for school."

Violet groaned; she hated school. She didn't care much for her grades, skipping school often to train. She didn't have any friends, most people thought she was just the weird tomboy who lived with the creepy old man, and knew she was trouble when once a teacher had caught her playing with a couple of daggers on the school field. No one had been around so Violet thought she could get away with flipping the sharp knives to ease her boredom, but a teacher, who she particularly didn't like, spotted her.

The daggers had been confiscated, but a locked window and a tall fence didn't stop Violet from stealing them back.

"C'mon." They followed a barely noticeable path into the forest, using the moon's light to guide them. Violet checked her watch; already one o'clock. Ugh, schools gonna be a pain tomorrow.

She paused at a rustling just ahead of them, but couldn't see what it was. Tim had also stopped, but stepped forward when he could make out a human figure. It staggered forward, and Violet grimaced when she saw his drunken visage.

The man's eyes were clouded and half-lidded, mouth slightly open. His skin was flushed and sweaty, clothes splattered with beer and bile. He seemed to focus a little on the two people in front of him, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. He could recall them from somewhere...

"You!" he suddenly exclaimed, glaring at Tim. "You're the one who sold me that gun!"

Tim used to own a weapons store in a discreet part of town, selling guns and bullets. He closed it a few years prior, having enough money to retire.

"Excuse me?" Tim said.

"This!" The drunk pulled a gun from his pocket, and Tim recognized it instantly. He knew every gun he ever sold, and this one was only a cheap pistol. "M-my wife..." Tears spilled down his cheeks, and Violet couldn't help but feel a little pity.

Tim began to softly urge Violet into the trees, knowing a drunk was dangerous, but a drunk with a gun.

They froze in their steps when the man lifted the gun with a growl and pointed it shakingly at Tim. "You're not going anywhere!"

"Please, at least let the girl go." Tim begged, fearing for Violet's life. He could handle himself and knew she could too, but wanted her safely away.

The man considered for a second, "She means a lot to you?" His voice had lost its slur, but seemed more dangerous, lower.

Tim nodded. The drunks eyes shifted to Violet, she looked so much like his wife, the same blonde hair and tall stature, but with kind brown eyes the colour of chocolate. He had thought she loved him, he had thought they were happy. Why did she end her life...with this pistol. The one the old man sold her!

"Then you will feel the pain I'm feeling!" With eyes narrowed in concentration and anger he pulled the trigger, aiming for the girl's heart.

Violet stood in shock, unable to move or even turn away from the gun pointed at her. Tim had faster reactions though.

With a yell he darted in front of Violet, quick with adrenaline and fear. The bullet entered his side and lodged itself in his body, bringing him near death.

Violet regained her senses and gasped and fell to his side, turning him over to try and stop the bleeding. Crying she held his hand, reassured only slightly by his strong grip.

"V-violet," Tim whispered.

"I'm here." Violet's voice cracked; she knew enough about injuries that this one was fatal.

"Never forget who you are, my daughter." The light faded from his eyes and his grip slackened. It was too much, her whole world had fallen apart before her. Tim was the only one who had cared about her, he had saved her from the orphanage and raised her.

Please...no...

Violet sobbed, letting Tim's hand slide from her own and looked up. The pistol's barrel was and inch from her forehead, and she could hear the man's heavy breathing.

He couldn't see anything but her, his darling Jade, everywhere he looked. It was hell, his own personal torture. Nothing made sense any more, pain and anger was all he knew. Anger was easier to bare.

The first demon, in his eyes, was now dead. But there was another, by his side. They killed my Jade. was the only thought in his head.

He reloaded the pistol and aimed the gun, "Die."

Violet's body jolted at the shot, and she felt a sudden white hot pain before a purple light filled her vision as she slipped into unconsciousness.