One shot at the navel, two shots through each shoulder...and one to the neck. The same as last time, and the time before that. Aya sighed in frustration. Why was she having so much trouble with this? The premise was easy enough; four shots, arranged in a diamond. Navel, shoulders, neck. She’d made more difficult shots under more duress than after-hours practice. Why was this so hard for her?
She put her gun on the counter in front of her, rolling her shoulders as she took off the earmuffs. At least the others had already left for the day. There were so many expectations being placed on her, failing such a rudimentary exercise in front of the whole branch wasn’t an appealing thought.
“I’m heading out.” The voice came from behind her. Aya winced. She hadn’t been around for that long, but she recognized Pierce’s ever so slightly condescending tone. “You, uh...you done?”
“Yeah.” Aya didn’t turn around. She could feel his eyes on her, that weird mixture of attraction and revulsion Pierce had in his eyes whenever they met hers. “Just about. I can shut it down.”
“Sure. ‘Night.” Aya had already slipped her ear muffs back on.
In the end, she couldn’t even bring herself to ring up another target. She hadn’t given up, she’d keep trying until she got it, but there was no use in continuing to bang her head against this particular wall, not when she could wake up tomorrow and come at it with fresh eyes. And arms. She hadn’t held a gun for such a long time at once since New York.
And all at once the memories came, unbidden. The visceral sound of flesh tearing, muscles and bones twisting into new and ever more horrific shapes, the oozing puss and goo and plasma dripping onto the floor -
The sound of ripping paper brought her out of it just as much as the paper cut had. She bunched up the target and threw it into the trash, finger in her mouth. She picked up her gun, turned off the lights, and shut the door behind her. She almost jumped out of her skin when she rounded the corner into the locker room and came face to face with Jodie.
“Oh! Aya!” Jodie laughed, putting one hand over her heart. “You startled me!”
“Sorry about that,” the blonde responded, walking around her coworker and into the locker room proper. “Won’t happen again.”
“No, don’t worry about it, it’s - it’s fine, I did it too…” Jodie trailed off, following Aya back inside at something of a distance. Jodie pushed her brunette hair behind her ear, frowning slightly. “Hey Aya, you okay?”
“What? Yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?” Aya was already putting her dirty gym gear into her duffel bag.
“Your finger. You had it in your mouth. Did you get a sliver or something?”
Aya stopped packing her things and looked down. Of course, the paper cut was already healed. Her skin flushed, a normal side effect of her parasite energy having activated. “No, it’s fine.”
“Oh, I see.” There was a moment of silence between them before Aya began packing once more. “Hey, um, are you ready to go? We can leave together if you need. It’s pretty close by, but still.”
“Sorry, what?” Aya’s voice was calm and steady, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach.
“For Eric’s birthday. Drinks at Chez Bernie’s.”
Aya cleared her throat, shaking her head. “Oh right! Yeah, I - there’s just so much to do, with the move and everything. Internet guy’s coming tonight, I leave on assignment tomorrow...”
“Already? Well I guess there’s no surprise there.” Jodie laughed, but the tinge of nervousness was still there. “Broadband?”
Aya smiled, but it came out as a grimace. “Yeah.”
“Cool well if he gets done early, come on by.” Jodie wasted no time booking a hasty retreat.
Aya watched Jodie go, biting her lip. It’s for the best, anyway. Aya had moved to LA to join MIST and finish the fight she’d started against Eve. Humanity wouldn’t be truly safe until all traces of neo-mitochondrial creatures had been eradicated, and she was the best candidate for the job. The only candidate, she thought, looking down at her already healed finger.
Tomorrow, she’d be back at the shooting range. Tomorrow, she’d get a handle on all this. Navel, shoulders, neck. She holstered her gun in the harness she always wore under her leather jacket (even in LA) and went home alone.
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timeasmymeasure
Prose Sample
Date: 2018-12-07 06:10 am (UTC)One shot at the navel, two shots through each shoulder...and one to the neck. The same as last time, and the time before that. Aya sighed in frustration. Why was she having so much trouble with this? The premise was easy enough; four shots, arranged in a diamond. Navel, shoulders, neck. She’d made more difficult shots under more duress than after-hours practice. Why was this so hard for her?
She put her gun on the counter in front of her, rolling her shoulders as she took off the earmuffs. At least the others had already left for the day. There were so many expectations being placed on her, failing such a rudimentary exercise in front of the whole branch wasn’t an appealing thought.
“I’m heading out.” The voice came from behind her. Aya winced. She hadn’t been around for that long, but she recognized Pierce’s ever so slightly condescending tone. “You, uh...you done?”
“Yeah.” Aya didn’t turn around. She could feel his eyes on her, that weird mixture of attraction and revulsion Pierce had in his eyes whenever they met hers. “Just about. I can shut it down.”
“Sure. ‘Night.” Aya had already slipped her ear muffs back on.
In the end, she couldn’t even bring herself to ring up another target. She hadn’t given up, she’d keep trying until she got it, but there was no use in continuing to bang her head against this particular wall, not when she could wake up tomorrow and come at it with fresh eyes. And arms. She hadn’t held a gun for such a long time at once since New York.
And all at once the memories came, unbidden. The visceral sound of flesh tearing, muscles and bones twisting into new and ever more horrific shapes, the oozing puss and goo and plasma dripping onto the floor -
The sound of ripping paper brought her out of it just as much as the paper cut had. She bunched up the target and threw it into the trash, finger in her mouth. She picked up her gun, turned off the lights, and shut the door behind her. She almost jumped out of her skin when she rounded the corner into the locker room and came face to face with Jodie.
“Oh! Aya!” Jodie laughed, putting one hand over her heart. “You startled me!”
“Sorry about that,” the blonde responded, walking around her coworker and into the locker room proper. “Won’t happen again.”
“No, don’t worry about it, it’s - it’s fine, I did it too…” Jodie trailed off, following Aya back inside at something of a distance. Jodie pushed her brunette hair behind her ear, frowning slightly. “Hey Aya, you okay?”
“What? Yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?” Aya was already putting her dirty gym gear into her duffel bag.
“Your finger. You had it in your mouth. Did you get a sliver or something?”
Aya stopped packing her things and looked down. Of course, the paper cut was already healed. Her skin flushed, a normal side effect of her parasite energy having activated. “No, it’s fine.”
“Oh, I see.” There was a moment of silence between them before Aya began packing once more. “Hey, um, are you ready to go? We can leave together if you need. It’s pretty close by, but still.”
“Sorry, what?” Aya’s voice was calm and steady, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach.
“For Eric’s birthday. Drinks at Chez Bernie’s.”
Aya cleared her throat, shaking her head. “Oh right! Yeah, I - there’s just so much to do, with the move and everything. Internet guy’s coming tonight, I leave on assignment tomorrow...”
“Already? Well I guess there’s no surprise there.” Jodie laughed, but the tinge of nervousness was still there. “Broadband?”
Aya smiled, but it came out as a grimace. “Yeah.”
“Cool well if he gets done early, come on by.” Jodie wasted no time booking a hasty retreat.
Aya watched Jodie go, biting her lip. It’s for the best, anyway. Aya had moved to LA to join MIST and finish the fight she’d started against Eve. Humanity wouldn’t be truly safe until all traces of neo-mitochondrial creatures had been eradicated, and she was the best candidate for the job. The only candidate, she thought, looking down at her already healed finger.
Tomorrow, she’d be back at the shooting range. Tomorrow, she’d get a handle on all this. Navel, shoulders, neck. She holstered her gun in the harness she always wore under her leather jacket (even in LA) and went home alone.