The wings are beating fast as they whiz around my head. One two, one two...
"One two!" I yell out, point my gun at where the noise would be next.
A sound of squeak, then of crumpled paper hitting the ground.
How many have I killed?
One two, one two, one two.
"Three left, two to go," a velvety voice says. It's easily recognizable as a man's, yet a bit higher than one's, and so how a bit lower. I can't place this voice on a scale. But it is beautiful. Just that sentence and I feel as if I'm in front of a warm fire place, sinking into a soft, plushy arm chair in a mansion that just by seeing could melt your heart and reform it to be as fresh, pure, and sweet as a baby's.
I wonder if someday if I can have a baby, if I could be a mother.
If I grow up, I'd like that to happen.
"Who's there?" I ask, turning around in a circle, now alert.
"But it takes so dreadfully long to shoot them down, doesn't it?" he asks, ignoring my question.
That voice....
The thud of footsteps landing on the floor, he was sitting on something, a crate perhaps? And he's not that far, on the left side.
I don't move though, I'm too busy thinking about all of the outcomes of the situation as well as why this unrecognizable man, not just by appearance, but also vocals, would be here in a location obviously not of his own.
"Why don't you ever look at your targets?" he inquires, his voice close to my ear, his lips brushing against my ear. "It'd be much easier."
I feel the man's presence, as tall as it is, move away from me. "Do you think you are a crack shot with your little toy pistol?" he questions, chuckling rather menacingly.
His laugh ruins the beauty and purity of his voice.
"Well, crack shot, I'll help you get rid of the rest as well as pay you,"
He pauses, and I know he's smirking at my shock.
"Oh yes, I can tell a beggar when I see one." He continues. "In any case, I'll do this for you, but you will have to return the favor later, when you're ripe enough."
I spit at him, or where he may be, recoiling in disgust. "We will never be that hungry," I inform him, using my sister's words from this morning.
His disturbing laugh comes again.
"Oh, I don't need you for that. I don't have the patience anyhow. I'll just need you to help me mend my friendship with some people."
I can't trust him.
His words will turn honeyed when he wills them to.
Deceitful.
Like my father.
But Rose says we need the gold now.
"What is your name, crack shot?"
"Sparrow Brooks."
"Do we have a deal?"
It took me an hour and a half shooting those beetles according to the bell tower.
"Fine."
Three shots ring out from the air and more crumpled paper falls.
"Delightful."
YOU ARE READING
And The Wish...
Fanfiction"Sparrow! We're going to the castle!" Just that one sentence and their fates were sealed. One destined to be the legendary fourth Hero of Albion. The other a corpse left to rot. When will the nightmares end? When will she forget and forgive? Never. ...
