Protecting the Royal Idiot

Protecting the Royal Idiot - Chapter 8

Hey there~! Christmas was great, wasn't it? :3

But you know what's also pretty great? Today. Let the sales and shopping begin! :D But the lines are insane! D:

What'd you get for Christmas? Or Hanukkah?

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Chapter 8

"We'll start you off with a simple pistol," Mr. BTM told me in his thick accent. I nodded. "And Alan, you'll start off with a shotgun. You informed me that you've handled a gun before?" Alan nodded.

"Of course," he said. He picked up his shotgun. Then he started randomly fiddling with knobs and switches and triggers on the gun. I never knew there was more than one trigger. Guns aren't supposed to be complicated!

"I just hope you're not lying," Mr. BTM said sternly. He picked up his own gun. I looked down at the pistol in my hands. It was a dull black, and it looked like an ordinary pistol. But even though there was nothing wrong with it, and it wasn't even loaded, I still held it at a distance. Guns kinda scare me. Ohh, the irony.

"Now first things first. You start by..." Alan cut off Mr. BTM.  "Start with ammunition," Alan said enthusiastically. He was grinning like a kid in a candy shop. My eyes got as big as saucers. I don't know... when someone smiles while holding a gun, it kinda freaks me out. Mr. BTM shot a look at Alan.

"Yes, ammunition," Mr. BTM said. We loaded up our guns, and then we were told to keep extra magazines in our pockets. Then Mr. BTM gave us bulletproof vests to wear. I immediately put mine on without question.

"Now," Mr. BTM said. He clapped his hands together twice and two evenly spaced targets rose up from the ground. That startled me. I almost jumped, and I blinked my eyes. I looked over at Alan, who had just done the same thing I had.

"Shoot the targets. Aim for the bull's-eye," Mr. BTM said loudly. He moved out of the way of the targets. "Take your guns off safety first." I raised an eyebrow.

"What's the 'safety'?" I said slowly, raising a hand and sounding extremely dumb. Mr. BTM sighed as Alan took his first shot. I nearly fell over from the deafening bang.

"You might need these," Mr. BTM said apologetically. He handed us what looked like giant headphones. He then proceeded to snatch my pistol out of my hands. "Hey!"

"Hold on," he snapped. He flicked a single switch before thrusting the gun back into my hands. "Here," he said. I winced.

I held out the gun at arm's length, aiming for the target. More specifically, the bull's-eye. I sucked in a breath, focusing. I steadied my hand. I put my finger on the trigger, slowly pulling it back...

"Blimey, Jenna!"

My head whipped around to look at Alan. He was shaking his head in amazement, staring at my target. He pulled off his protective headphones and ran a hand through his black hair. I frowned at him. "What?" I shouted.

"You got a bull's-eye on your first try!" he replied, even louder than I was. And that's pretty loud, since I'm pretty loud. I turned around and started walking toward my target. I don't even know how he could see such a tiny bullet hole. Either he's Superman, or I'm blind.

Sure enough, there was a hole in the bull's-eye. I must be pretty blind, because I can stick my whole thumb in the hole.

"Bloody hell," Mr. BTM said suddenly. I jumped, clutching my chest.

"You scared the begeezus out of me!" I shrieked, grabbing the edge of the target with my other hand. I didn't even realize I had dropped my pistol onto the grass.

"God, you guys are loud!" Ryan said, walking out of the castle. He cocked an eyebrow at me, and then he looked at Mr. BTM. "Uhh... Bob?" Ryan said uncertainly, slowly walking toward us. I let out a chuckle, which triggered a whole laugh attack. I fell to the ground next to my pistol, my arms wrapped around my stomach. Mr. BTM = Bob?! Hilarious!

I probably looked like a maniac, literally rolling on the floor laughing.

"Jenna," someone said from over me. My last giggles died away, and I looked up. Two green eyes were gazing down at me. Ryan had a hand outstretched to help me up. I sat up straight.

"C'mon, get up," Ryan said. I blinked at his hand, then at him. I chuckled, pushed his hand out of the way, and got up by myself. I picked up my pistol. Ryan immediately threw his hands over his head.

"Sorry! I won't try to help you up again!" Ryan said frantically. He was eyeing the gun in my hand. I laughed again. I rolled my eyes and put my gun on safety.

"We're training," I said, putting my free hand on my hips. Ryan slowly lowered his hands. I decided to mess with him, so I pointed the gun at him. He instinctively threw his hands in front of his face. "Geez, woman! I was just trying to help you up!" he shouted. I lowered my pistol and laughed again.

"Oh sure, I'm a child," Ryan muttered. I frowned.

"Yeah, you are actually. Children don't handle guns," I told him.

"But mature people don't play with guns," he retorted.

"Ugh, again. You're impossible," I groaned. Ryan smirked.

"You just like me," he smirked. I pushed him.

"And once again, I will say, in your dreams," I muttered. I turned around to examine the hole I had shot in the bull's-eye again. I suddenly felt warm breath near me, and Ryan said, "How about in yours?"