[Requested by @MikePhony hope this was close enough to what you asked for!]
Xylo leveled the gun, staring down the barrel at the target. If he imagined hard enough, the flimsy white couch cushion splattered with red crayons morphed into a grim zombie. A raised body limping over, ideally with its hands empty, moaning and groaning in its own garbled language of the dirt where it once resided.
He bit the tip of his tongue and flicked the safety off. He stared the zombie down, the red target shifting to appear across its flaky forehead. Just as he prepared to squeeze the trigger, the zombie's face shifted as well. From a stranger to a heart-striking motherly appearance.
He sucked in a breath and shut his eyes, firing into the dead silence.
The gun ricocheted and Xylo stumbled back, his arms jamming backwards into their sockets. His ears rang and he had to ignore the impulse to drop the gun and to cover them. Through the loud, sharp ringing, he could just barely hear the bullet hit something wooden, definitely not the cushioned target.
He twisted his feet to keep himself stable and looked for where the bullet landed. The edge of the building had a new nick in it, wood splinters hanging loose. Whoops.
The garage door opened and Nicoline poked her head out. "How far off did you miss it?"
"Ahh," Xylo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "only by a few inches...or feet. It's safe to come out."
"Not until you put the safety back on."
"Noted." He clicked the safety latch and Nicoline took the risk, stepping outside right into his line of fire. She looked back and forth between the target and the broken piece of house. "I see you're doing well with training."
The sarcasm wasn't lost on Xylo but he chose to blissfully ignore it in favor of removing his ego for the time being. "Do you think you could...help me? A bit?"
"Help you learn to shoot a non-moving target?" she deadpanned.
So much for what was left of said bruised ego. He did his best puppy dog eyes he knew how to do, courtesy of his sister, but she didn't look impressed. Finally, he merely shrugged helplessly. "Please?"
Nicoline considered him for a moment before sighing and shutting the garage door. "Okay, let me see what you're doing now."
Small victories. Xylo aligned himself with the target, stretching out his arms in front of him. The gun perfectly at his eyeline and the tips of his shoes facing the same direction. It was the exact position he was coached on, information he was glad he retained.
She crossed one arm over his, placing her hands on top his on the gun. "Since you're still a beginner at this, keep one eye closed; whichever one is closest to the weapon."
"Wait, you can do it with both eyes open?"
"It's preferred for experts, since in most situations you would need the increased field of vision. You've probably just never seen it done because all your action has been on sets."
"Okay, look." He lowered the gun, eyebrows furrowed. Nicoline didn't even bat an eye at his offense. "I've been able to keep myself alive with my shooting skills thus far. I'm just a little rusty is all."
"If that's so, then fix your stance like you have been."
What? "What?"
"If you're in the heat of the moment, about to die, you won't be able to stabilize yourself on your feet. You should practice like you would in normal situations."
