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Waste Away the Day

Chapter Four

"I barely know how to hold one of these and you led me here to... you said I'm aloud to shoot near her right," Chance was standing with his mind jetting back and forth between the two outcomes of his specialized scenario. He could walk away and know the true definition of loss or a bullet can land him in his lover's arms while what innocence he had left in this world chases down the child bleeding out and attempts to apologize, begging her leaking body for forgiveness. "I said you're allowed to 'injure' her. It can't be a skimmed ear either," Even the wind could sense the absence of mercy taking place as it stopped blowing for a second. "I said that just to indicate if you do not manage a kill shot, we don't need to finish the job. A kid could do this, so can you." Rillion said this all as he looked towards the wind blowing. The comment he made about the kid along with the now present wind brought up that repressed memory of himself so long ago.

Chance spoke up saying with little composure, "Can you be okay with a... a limb shot. It's not like she'll die from that." No change of position came from Rill as he said, "Look, the odds of her dying are minimal for a limb shot knowing the help she will receive afterwards but if you keep thinking about helping someone you're about to shoot all your doing is making this harder than it has to be." "I'm making this hard. How about I just shut up, shoot her damn face wide open and we can go home laughing while we anticipate the ice cream we'll eat in celebration of my killing. Of my coronation into the demented sick Happenson family. Why are you making me do this Rill? Why do I have to kill someone to be with you?" These words were filled with emotions that were a combination of anger and pity. The last line stumbled out with the tears and chance grinded his canines in an effort to conceal them. Rillion then began to act human. "I've done this before Chance. I know what it feels like to be told this by someone you strive to appreciate, but there's always one thing left," A sad attempt at presenting the bright side of this caused only more discontent for each of them. "Right now you need to ignore emotion and focus on what must be done. It's okay to cry," A now hung head showed Rillion's actual conscience. "There's no reason not to cry, just... don't let it mess with your aim. It helps to hold back until you're done. I love you, now don't make regret this. If you don't shoot her," A new Chance formed at this next phrase. "I'll have to never talk to you again after I shoot her myself. I trust you enough to do this."

Chance stood blinking overwhelmingly hard to block his showcase. He turned to walk towards the gun in a staggering motion filled with interruptions and unfluidity. He gained confidence with every step as he now stood behind the rifle and got into the proper position he had seen Rillion do so many times on top of their gym building where he learned shooting basics from afar. Rillion gave one last mark of reassurance, "The Bullet, scope, and silencer are design to hit the girl. You don't need to think, just have the crosshair where you want to shoot and make sure she's standing still."

The scope was advanced as Chance was now in majority rid of his tears with one eye closed, noticing the lights flickering from dim to still. His legs angled to the left like he was taught when he could. A sense of objectiveness now occupied his brain, creating no moral compass in his head. Only Rillion's face directed his thoughts. Being without him tortured Chance's mind. He had told everything about his life story to Rillion and has been the only person to know about his father issues. 'This just needs to be done quickly so I can start regretting it and lay down with Rill by a fireplace. I hate fireplaces. Find the girl.' He began to pan over the grounds with tenacity. The Husky shouted out with no sadness in his voice asking, "Where does she get dropped of?" When the Fox heard this accent he became surprised and responded with an unsure voice. Wondering why he wasn't responding to the crying canine he was to merely a second ago.

"Blue Cadillac coupe in the closer drop off. In the curve towards the orange gate." There was an immediate response, "How long 'till she shows." Rillion became concerned with this new personality. 'It took less than a minute for him to switch mindsets? How is that possible? He loves me enough to do this... no he doesn't. I've fucked up his head.' A sudden comment pushed Rillion back into reality. "Wyvern, when will she show up!?" "Uh," He pulled up his watch to reply, "less than five minutes!" "Okay." More confusion flooded Rill and he decided to ignore what desire he had to start an unintentionally awkward conversation about dealing with issues.

The five minute window gave more opportunities for thinking, something Chance wasn't having an easy time dealing with. He thought to his own head for what seemed like hours. 'I love him, nothing else matters. What if I can't do it? What if the second I see her I just pull back my head and walk away on purpose. How could I do that accidently, I mean it's not like Rill has mind control, right? Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out. I wonder what he's thinking about over there with his pompous attitude. He doesn't need me. There's only him liking me driving him to do this. I wonder if he loves me. If he loves me then why is he making me do one of the hardest things I've ever amassed to acting out. Is it really a test of how much I love him? It's not going to be a story told at Thanksgiving dinner that warms every ones heart. Awwwww, the gay guys are cute cause that one ran though miles in a blizzard just to be there for him on his birthday. That's what people want to hear, not that guy shot a little girl to make sure he wasn't lonely. Why can't we be that blizzard couple. Instead, we shoot little kids to prove our love. Aren't we badass! Wait is that the car. Blue Caddy. Dude in a suit driving. By the way, this is a really sick elementary school. It has an elevator for the kid's convenience! Wait, time to empty out my brain of all thoughts. Breath slowly. Caress the trigger. Aim at the target.'

The rifle scope lit up even more, surprising Chance. It seemed to center on the back seat. A real life auto-aim. The dirt bored its way into Chance's left elbow, but the adrenaline began to kick him into not caring. The crosshair phased into two separate reflections. One for actual aim and one on the target. She was a blonde terrier, just like her mother. Had the same cruel nature by the look of how she talked to the bodyguard. Different colored lights flickered by the scope leftmost section as they lit up yellow. It was designed to act as like a stoplight. Chance recognized this pattern and saw his shot was open and gracefully breathed in to hold his breath. The crosshair was placed upon her left knee as Chance whispered to himself. "This is wrong... but I love him." At that Chance pressed his finger down on the trigger and sent a silent torpedo straight through her knee, scattering her balance, toppling her over.

No change occurred as the scene was now being watched by its creator and the lights now lit up blue. No one knows what to do at a blue stoplight. Even the engineer who put together the scope. No one knows what to do after something like that except to move on. "This is wrong," Chance whispered again. "This is wrong!" He got up from the scope, picked up the rifle, turned around then smashed its frame right into the dirt. It held together perfectly. This sight set Chance off to another level of rage as he picked it up like a hammer and began to repeatedly smash it into the ground with no consideration of how loud his struggle became. Rillion heard this and stood up from his rest to stare at what he had done. It was a scene worthy of no music or narrator. A couple forced into a world that had no others due to the realms sheer level of insanity. The Husky began to yell curses and scream out his hatred, all directed upon the rifle. His object of death was controlled by him. He did not think of how he shot the bullet, only that it was the closet thing he could destroy to cope with his anger. All of Chances body reverted to its feral state of pure instinct while the sniper rifle continuously deteriorated under the blows.

Rillion watched what he had done to the love of his life. What he appreciated the most, he had also caused the most pain to. "What the fuck are you doing Chance?! We need to go right now!" Absolutely no response came. Rill started to worry for the mental situation at hand, refusing any action that would put him closer to the deranged Husky. A part of the frame flew up and hit the fox on his hand, causing blood to trickle from his clenched fist. Rillion was taught how deal to deal with pain up to medieval torture levels, but this injury of minor size created by a minor cut made his knees buckle from infallible pressure. Both participants now rested on their knees, one with a cut on his hand and sobbing eyes, the other coping to death by making his rage visible in the beating of a rifle into the dirt. Nothing moved either of them as continued to ignore the other in whatever case of emotion they were dealing with. Two opposites at their most extremes now in effect within ten feet of the other went on and on, none responding to the calls, nobody realizing their existence. One individual who had been watching from the sidelines did see the entire event though. A friend of Arrons whom Rillion had never seen. She decided this dramatic play in her day's morning slot became too repetitive and interrupted as if a father was telling his kids to come inside.

"Chance, Rillion. It's time to go." The rifle now had stopped its ever going motion and remained in the down position of its beating motion. Chance it let go, making his bloody bruised hands visible to his own eyes. After he examined his pounding breaths and destroyed hands the Husky looked up to quickly ask with no retained breath, "Who... are you?" Rillion too rubbed away his current emotion to look up and stare in awe at the intruder. "I'm known by Rillion's father, Arron, as Operator First Class Romanov, but each of you are probably going to call me Riker for the next couple of days. I was sent as a watcher for this contract to make sure the assigned junior rank did the deed correctly and your name, Mr. Happenson, made me very interested when your signature crossed my agenda." Rillion managed to get rid of his vibrating thoughts, getting the ability to talk once again. "What are you doing here now, the deeds done? Isn't it Chance?" A nod came in reply from the Husky making the women lose her slick potential of speech. "I'm ordered to make sure the contract goes through... and that you guys don't tell anyone. Most people at the base call this job a BS assignment. It's a pun because the actual protocol follows through a lot like a... well, a babysitters." Chance and Rillion locked eyes at the remark and traded with each other the same blank expression of pure annoyance. Rill began to smile at his boyfriend's expression, leading into both of them laughing hysterically at the situation they found themselves. The Tigress looked at each of her new temporary assignments and asked, "Did I miss something?"