six words. six
simple words that, together, form a threat. a threat so familiar after being heard
so many times ——— uttered by different people ; but similar monsters nonetheless (
take the shot, or i will. throw him in,
or i will ) ——— that the sentence
is no longer conditional. it has become a certainty.
IT HAS BECOME A PROMISE.
it rings the same
this time. echoes with the same inevitability a promise does. ky’lar’s unwavering
gaze betrays no reluctance either. and grant knows then, with complete belief, that his bullet will mean
salvation for this victim.
the target has
been drawn, and there are only two ways this could end ———
swiftly ; or painfully.
so he lifts the
gun, its muzzle finding the center of the man’s forehead. grant knows neither
the man’s name nor his story. and while his preference of not knowing these
pieces of information brands him a coward, a cold—blooded killer that cares
naught for the lives he takes, he chooses that route. ignorance is better than
putting a name, an identity, and a life to the eyes he’s about to shoot a
bullet in between of. doing so gives his
mind its weapons to haunt his nightmares with.
TAKE THE SHOT…
the gun trembles
in his hands, a quake that he cannot afford settling on his limbs. and he steps
closer, pushing the cold steel against the man’s skin, finding stability on the
perch of the weapon pressing against flesh. the victim’s fear—stricken eyes
widen even further, tears leaking from its corners. plea after plea, bargain
after bargain froths from his lips, but none of the sounds reach grant’s ears. his
memories deafen him, it blinds him of the picture playing from reality until all
he can witness are the imprints of the past in his battered brain.
TAKE CARE OF BUDDY.
that dog, so
trusting, so loving, so protective. the only companion he had in years, the dog
that hunted for him when he knew squat about survival, the dog that shielded
him from the cold with his own body, the dog that chased the loneliness away
and protected his sanity. and he had trained another gun on that dog’s head,
painted the same target between his warm brown eyes.
PUSH HIM IN.
youngest brother,
the boy he’s protected from the moment that baby was born. and a threat from
the eldest brother to push the boy down the well, and not throw the rope for
the first two minutes. or not do it, and the two minutes become five, maybe
ten, possibly with no rope either. and he was given the same condition.
two different
moments in his past, both of similar nature. and in those two moments, he’d made
different decisions. he had not spared the brother, too afraid of the threat
being brought to reality by christian. so he had pushed thomas into the well,
waited with his head hanging over the edge of the well, counting down the
seconds until he could throw the rope he held so tightly in his small hands. he
had managed to save thomas from a more painful torture from their older
brother. but in return, he had killed their relationship.
he spared the dog
the pain of his bullet. couldn’t pull the trigger when the dog had looked upon
him, still with trust in its eyes even as the weapon was trained at him. the shot
fired at the sky instead had scared the dog into flight, running away for its
life. and in doing so, he had subjected him to the more painful death of
bleeding out, slowly dying from the bullet of garrett’s gun.
two different
choices made in two different moments of his life, resulting to two different outcomes.
now faced with the same decision, he’s aware of the weight loaded in his gun.
a deep breath…
finger tighter on
the trigger.
HE PULLS.
the shot rings
out.
the muzzle tilts
down at the last second, the bullet finding its intended target. a cry of pain
follows the clap of the gunshot, and blood wells from the gunshot wound on the
man’s knee. grant sits on his haunches, then, forearm perching on his knee, the
gun tightly held in his fist. he leans forward, as if about to whisper an
intimate secret into the man’s ear.
❛ i know who you
are. and you’ve seen our face. if i find out you whispered any incriminating
information against us to anyone, i will come after you, and everyone you love.
i will kill them all while you watch, and i’ll hurt you. i will HURT and MAIM
you until you’re an inch from death, and leave you to slowly die as the corpses
of your family rot around you. ❜
in the end, there’s
no need to wait for a nod or any other sign of acquiescence. it’s clear in the
sobs that ring out from the man’s trembling mouth that the message has been
received. so grant stands up, his brown orbs dead of any and all emotions. he
stands to his feet, saunters towards ky’lar.
❛ he won’t talk. ❜ he shoves the gun at the demon’s chest. ❛ next time you give me an order like
that because you don’t have the guts to do it yourself, just shoot me in the
head yourself. because i’m not your slave. ❜ the browns of his orbs flash with anger,
with hatred, and it’s not even influenced by the rage the asgardian staff has
awoken in him a few years prior. it’s purely the anger born of his past.
it’s a dangerous game
he dares to play with a demon as ruthless as ky’lar, he knows that. and it’s an
idiotic move, daring him the way he did. but he’d rather choose to suffer and
be tormented. than surrender his freedom once more, and let another treat him
as a slave.
❛ i’d rather take whatever torment you have reserved for me, than let anyone control me ever
again. ❜
one order. six simple words. a threat and a promise. ky wanted grant to take the shot out of necessity; not cowardice. he wanted everything – not a majority- of what he said followed.
swiftly or painfully. with mercy or with out. he didn’t care which option was chosen. nor did he truly have a preference.
all he cared about was grant doing as instructed; taking the shot.
and so he waited, watched, and held his breath. there was something about grant that had the demon intrigued. something about him that kept him on his toes.
he enjoyed that feeling.
a deep breath was taken in as he waited. his eyes narrowing on the victim and then shifting towards the gun.
all grant had to do was pull the trigger – what was taking so long?
he took a step forward. lips forming into a thin-line as he watched the gun. the slight movements were enough to tell ky something was wrong.
maybe he wasn’t going to pull the trigger – that would prove problematic.
ky watched and he waited. eyes narrowing as it looked like grant wasn’t going to take the shot. he’d get his – disobeying an order – not doing as instructed. it seemed that grant would learn just what it would be like in hell.
then it was pulled. the shot rang out. a smirk spread across his lips.
however, it faded at the very last second. the man didn’t drop dead. he was still alive.
it was enough to make him kill the both of them right there, but he couldn’t.
ky wouldn’t allow himself to lash out at grant. not now – not this soon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do so when this… lesser was dispatched. even if he had to do so himself.
so he listened to every word that was said; making sure that he could use it later if needed.
this wasn’t a mercy. it was letting them free of death due to the fact someone – meaning grant – wouldn’t fire the shot off properly.
as the gun was shoved at his chest, he moved to grab it; taking a moment to look it over before moving it in his right hand and firing two shots off.
one after another. no hesitation either time.
ky’lar went cold. colder than he ever had been around grant. if he didn’t have enough restraint, he would have shot grant as well, but this wasn’t time to lose someone like him – no. he’d do something far worse.
❛ not anymore. ❜ a pause as he slid the gun into the back of his pants. ❛ you should know i don’t enjoy lose ends – not even when they’re an accident. ❜ he could have said more – much more in-fact, but he decided against that. at least for the moment.
❛ if you, ❜ he bit his lower lip for a moment, going over the words he’d say next in his mind as his eyes narrowed, ❛ if you, ❜ he repeated, ❛ pull something like that again… you’ll wish you were never born. ❜ no, it wasn’t exactly what he meant, but ky knew exactly what he’d be doing the moment they got out of here.
he’d have a small chat with grant – no, it wouldn’t be a chat. ky would make sure that grant was taught a lesson. something that he should have known already; the demon gets what he wants.
no matter the price. no matter the cost. he’d have what was his.
Hellfirebound 