“Take your shot stranger. You’ll only get one.” He said, putting his hands up.

“How, how do you know that?” The man, Zion, looked at his gun and checked the bullets. “You’re right.”

The man ran up to Zion and punched his nose.

“Argh!!” Zion grabbed his nose in pain and stumbled backwards into the wall, where a large painting drops on his head. His body fell to the ground, unconscious.

“Come on, let’s go.” He said to Sarah, helping her to her feet.

“I- No- I-“ Sarah blinked, looking at his eyes. “We need to get the Sphere of Fire!”

He patted her shoulder. “I think you’re in shock. My… name… is… Rio… and-“

“No! It’s right there!!” Sarah shoved his hand away and walked over to the glass box, noticing Zion left the hammer on top.

With a bang, the box broke open, and Sarah carefully picked up the sphere of fire, glowing fiercely now.

“What is that?” Rio asked, walking up to her.

“The Sphere of Fire!” She spat, staring at its warm light. “My friend Dr. Hyatt found this in the Capuchin Catacombs in Italy. It was on a monks neck in the form of an amulet. They say it was used to conjure visions.”

“Wow, that’s interesting and all, but we got to go before that guy wakes up.” Rio gestured to the unconscious Zion on the floor.

“Wait! I have to check if it’s still inside.” Sarah looked at the orb and carefully spun the top open, revealing a scrap of thousand year old paper preserved inside. She sighed of relief.

“Alright we can go now.” She shut the sphere again with a clamp.

Nearing the door, Sarah gets pulled to the ground by a strong hand. Zions face levels with hers and he smirks, half conscious.

“Now you really shouldn’t have done that.” He pointed the gun at Rio and fired.

🩵 Ack! That was an interesting part haha!! Also to be clear, everything in this book is fictional except for the Capuchin Catacombs. You can actually visit there in Italy! 🇮🇹 Thank you for reading, I’ll come you with the next part tomorrow! Good day/night! <3

I felt the cold gun press against my forehead. Her eyes were black as night like the outfit she wore. I glanced down to see the red cross insigna on her jacket.

I sighed and made eye contact,”Cross Clan doesn’t know when to stop the bloodshed…”

She smirked, “Cross Clan doesn’t know I’m here.”Clearly, I was the target she had her sights set on from the time she could crawl.

“Remember when Knight Clan held our president hostage because she tried to ruin your clan’s reputation?”

She tried to laugh it off as not to seem impressed that I knew. She was trying to keep that secret under wraps. But she knew I was not lying because only the higher ranks knew what I was.

“So, if you’re a mercenary- take your shot then stranger,” she dared me, “Because with the vulnerable position you’re in right now you’ll only have one.”

“Take your shot, stranger. You’ll only get one.”

Sariah held her gun with both hands to try to hide how she was shaking.  A scowl was fixed on her face, but deep down she was terrified.  And he knew it.  The tall man, dressed in a fine black vest, coat-tails flowing in the wind.  The rain had soaked them both head to toe.  She held the gun firm, her finger on the trigger.  She had the shot.  He was only a few feet from her.  So why couldn’t she pull the damn trigger.

“Here, let me make it easy for you.”  The man smiled, stepping forward slowly, bending slightly to bring the barrel of the gun to his forehead.  “There.  Do it.”

He had a wild look in his eyes, intent, determined.  Mad.  He was completely mad.  He was offering himself.  All she had to do was pull. The. Trigger.

A moment passed in silence, only the rain pattering against the cement broke the intense quiet. 

“No, I didn’t think so.”  He laughed, tossing his head up to the rain and started to laugh.  

She couldn’t hide the shaking now.  Then she felt the impact of the man’s fist colliding with her stomach, forcing the air from her lungs.  Sariah fell to her knees, gasping.  The man kicked the gun from her hand, sending it rattling across the pavement.  Then she felt rough hands around her neck.  Her body went upright and then she felt her feet leave the ground as she lifted her by the throat.  Her trachea screamed out in pain as she struggled against him.  But he was strong—she knew that.  She looked down at him with disgust, her eyes burning as tears forced themselves out.  Her head started to swim as she tried to focus on the contemptuous person in front of her.

“Well, Sariah,” he smiled up at her, “any last words for me?”

I gazed at the striking, young woman before me. Her gun pointed square at my head and her blue eyes were nothing more than a blank stare at my face. She stood still as a statue in the Royal’s gardens. She didn’t understand the consequences of killing me. She had been lied to just like every other existing person on this earth that dared to defy the will of Royal Houses. I know her not, but she was like the rest of the Rebellion. She too was stripped from her land and poisoned to believe the deeds of the Royal’s were for the greater good. I had failed my mission to rescue these people from their fate. There was no one now to save us. Even still, I looked the woman in the eyes without an ounce of submission and held my head high. I felt the defeat in my gut, but knew it was far too late to do anything more. The Royal’s had begun their schemes and ran turmoil throughout the rest of the world. There was nothing to be done. I clenched my fist as the woman cocked the gun and put her finger on the trigger. Any moment now and I would be dead. Any moment and the I would never have to worry about this desolate and defiled world anymore. Any moment now and I would let the peace of death take me to a place where control and unrelenting evil of this life would cease. Whatever the afterlife shall be, surely it will be better than this one. I smirked at the woman in front of me, even though I knew she couldn’t really understand what I meant by it. She was a stranger to me and yet I knew her all too well. I knew the way her eyes used to sparkle when the sun hit them just right. I knew her smile could brighten every room she walked in better than the light of a thousand stars. I knew the way her brown hair would fall over one shoulder when she was focused in the merriment of reading. I knew the way she bit her bottom lip when she was concentrated far too unyieldingly on specific difficulties. I knew the way her body relaxed when she would see me walk through the door of the foyer every morning after a long nights mission. And most of all, I knew the way she looked at me with longing and relief before she would whisper the words “I love you” just after I returned to her warmth and comfort from a deadly task the night before. A stranger to me now and yet not a stranger at all. I felt the tears prick in the corners of my eyes, but none fell. If I had any dignity left as a man, I wouldn’t make a show of emotions here and spare my wife the torment of my feelings long kept at bay. So my grin grows wider as I replay the moments when my wife was not drugged to be nothing more than a killer. When her love warmed my heart so fully that I never thought there was any room left for me to feel much more or when my soul met hers every time our hands made the slightest touch and my lungs ceased to breathe. I would die remembering the way her laughter made my entire being incandescently and irrevocably radiant in the pureness of blessed bliss. She was all my world and yet it was rapidly fading out of my grasp as I dared another glance at her empty, blue eyes. I took a steadying breath and swallowed the emotion in my throat. “Take your shot, stranger. You’ll only get one.” I told her, a smile still displayed upon my face. She pulled the trigger and the body of a guard fell limp near by. I quickly glanced at the definitely dead guard bleeding out next to me and gaped at my wife, speechless. I stuttered, “How-But you were-I don’t…” I trailed off. She looked at me, determination causing her brows to narrow. “Run.” She commanded. That was all she said before all hell broke loose in the Gardens.

(I literally just started writing and me being me things kinda got crazy!! Thanks for the reads!!! They mean everything!!)

Just like he’d said at 3:30 the next day he was standing outside the diner and in his hand was a single stem of pale pink bleeding hearts. His face lit up when he saw me walking over and I couldn’t help but muster a small smile. He was as most girls tend to put it “impossible to resist”.
“Hey, Stranger,” he said holding out the hearts. “Hey,” I say almost breathless as I reach out for the flowers. Our fingers brush gently making my heart race. “So,” Chase clears his throat. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.” Oh, I see he’s a right-to-the-big-stuff kinda guy. Maybe it’s wrong that knowing that, or assuming, makes me rip off a piece of my heart for him.

“I’m not one to break my word,” I smile looking down at the stem of bleeding hearts in my hand. They’re beautiful. Chase lets out a small laugh. “So you’re different, huh?” I snap my head up and meet his dark, golden eyes. “Different?” I repeat pinching the small stem between my fingers. Chase nods as he runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair. “Yeah, from the other girls.” I shrug, my heart falling in my chest. That’s a bad thing, isn’t it?

“I guess,” I mumble my eyes drifting to the ground. “Oh,” Chase reaches a hand out placing it on my shoulder. “I didn’t mean—It’s a good thing. To be different.” A small smile pulls at the corners of my lips. “I don’t know about ‘good’.” Chase gives my shoulder a gentle shake. “I do.”

We both smiled then, smiles that we both knew meant something. I’d never smiled at another boy the way I smiled at him that day. And by the look in his dark eyes he’d never smiled like that in his life.

It was something special, something we’d both never talk about again, but something we’d both never forget.

    . . . . . . . 18 months later . . . . . . . 

I thought he was dead.

I heard the sound. A loud crash that echoed . . . Something only one thing could make.

I knew it, something happened. We’d been apart, broken up, for a few months and I’d walk past his house every day, hoping one day he’d come out and take back what he said that night. But right now, I don’t care.

“Chase!” I shout as I run towards his front door. “Chase!” Out of the corner of my eye I see the dull glow of the street lamp. A post we’d met at si many times. A spot he said was safe. “My dad can’t see it from his bedroom,” he’d told me months before. “It’s best that way.”

I never asked him why he didn’t want his father to see us, but now as I’m throwing the door open and rushing into a house I’m completely unfamiliar with, I wish I had. I hear another loud, deafing boom and then a heavy thump. Chase . . .

I sprint down the hallway and into the first door I see. I gasp as I fall agaisnt the frame of the door. There’s a body only a few feet away. A bigger, stronger, and older version of the boy I’ve fallen in love with. My eyes dart around the room as I search for Chase. I see him propped up agaisnt the wall, a deadly, bright red spot growing on his side.

“Chase?” My voice shakes as I stumble over to him. “Chasy?” A gentle groan comes from him as he rolls his eyes open. “Kiera,” he mumbles softly his eyes fluttering shut. I put both my hands on his cheeks holding his face to look at mine. “Chase?” I give him a tiny shake. “What happened?” “You . . .” Chase whispers his eyes still shut.“Shouldn’t be here.” I shake my head. “Tell me what happened.” My eyes start to water as his chest starts slowing down. I can’t spend this time trying to get an answer that won’t come. My hands tremble as I reach for my phone in my pocket. I pull it out calling 911 as fast as I can.

It feels like hours pass before the schreeching sound of sirens blare in the distance. I lay with Chase, squeezing his limp hand as my whole body shakes. He can’t be dead.

“Chase?” I whisper into his ear as a soft groan escapes him. My heart jumps with relief, its not too late. “You’ve got to hold on. For me.” He nods very slowly as his fingers gently brushing agaisnt my hand as paramedics rush into the room. They stop over Chase’s dad and even though they don’t know that this is his fault, it still makes me mad.

“Over here,” I call to them, giving Chase one last squeeze before I let go of his hand.

They rush to my side on of them grabbing me and leading me out the door.

“They’ll take care of him,” she reassures me.

Yet the piece of my heart I gave to him on our first date can’t help but start shattering in my chest.

Tough, tough boy Reaching for the sun Never smiled once Learning to forget that

Tough tough boy Take your shot stranger You'll only get one Shoot me in the forehead

Tough, tough boy Nails are made of iron Soul is a volcano so you wear yourself down

Tough, tough boy Aren't your knuckles worn out Come to me to rest up Don't you forget

My lover is Marine I have explored your body Marine Biology Your tide to me is filling

Your head to me is spinning but anything is winning Im dead and i am grinning but this is how you met me

(It’s been so so long. I don’t know what this is, just random words thrown together. Thanks for the reads!! I’ve missed you guys!!!❤️❤️)

I knew it was him when I heard his laugh coming up from behind me. I shut my eyes groaning as he tumbled into the booth bench across from me.

“I’m busy,” I shot as he gave me a winded smile. His face was still painted with laughter, but then again when wasn’t it? “You know,” he leaned his arms onto the table as he looked into my eyes like he was about to tell me that he loves me. “You only get one.” I shake my head as he grabs a fry from the plate in front of me. “One what?” I ask watching as he throws the fry into his mouth still a little too close to me. “What do you think?” I shrug as he reaches for another one. “I’m guessing it’s gonna be the fries. But then again I’m always ‘wrong’.” He lets out a small laugh then leaning even closer to me across the table. “You’ve got one. . .” He pauses then scanning the area behind me for any wondering ears n. who might be listening in. He is Chase Knigjt after all. “Shot.” He says averting his eyes back to me.

One shot? What the heck does that mean? “Take it,” he starts sliding away from me and out of the booth. “Take your shot, stranger. You’ve only got one.” “Shot at what?!” I yell after him as he starts down the aisle. He turns walking backwards as he winks. “I think you know the answer to that.”

He slips out the door and leaves me frozen. Did he just say I have a shot with him? To like date him? I scoff as the thought floods my mind. How stupid is Chase to think I’d instantly fall for him? It’s not very romantic to say I’ve got a chance with him, he might as well have asked me to Prom laughing as he said kidding.

I stand from my seat my eyes suddenly watery. Maybe it just hurts because he’s the boy I’ve been in love with for years. My vision blurs as I start waking towards the door he exited from just a few minutes before. I can’t belive this…I think to myself as I push open the door. He’s standing outside by his truck leaning against the door as he meets my eyes.

Prove it to yourself. “3:30 tomorrow. Here.” Prove it that he’s just playing with you like every other guy. He gives me his best smile as he nods once. “I’ll be the guy with the flower. Bleeding heart right?” My mouth almost drops when those two words come out. How does he know that? I nod slowly. “Yeah.” He smiles again. “Great, I’ll see you then. . . Stranger.”

A wise man once said,

On the brink of being dead,

A chance, risked,

For the benifit instead,

Of an opportunity missed.

An “always”

Put worry to bed.

For the thoughts in your head,

Shouldn’t hold your breath by a thread.

Take your shot,

Stranger still,

You might only get

one.

These boots have carried you far, far from home With soles, you stride With rough leather you roam You’ve made friends in forests And found foes in seafoam

So once you’ve lived and you’ve died And the battle is done Take your shot, stranger You’ll only get one

EXT. A DUSTY RANCH STREET - HIGH NOON The scorching sun beats down on the deserted street. Two men face each other, the heat shimmering off the ground. Boots crunch against the dirt as they square up, hands hovering near their holsters.

MAN (gruffly) Take a shot, stranger. You’ll only get one.

STRANGER (smirking) You’ll take the shot now—man up.

MAN (sneering) I’m the man. I’ll show you, you one-eyed bandit.

STRANGER (mocking) I’ll take the shot, alright. Right between your eyes, so your mother’ll see you blink one last time.

MAN (offended, voice rising) Don’t you talk about my mother!

STRANGER (chuckling) I can tell a man by his voice—and yours says you never had a mother worth mentioning.

The MAN stiffens, his jaw tight, his hand twitching closer to his gun.

MAN Let’s draw.

STRANGER (calmly) Wouldn’t mind. Shame, though, if your life was taken so early—like a cradle cut short.

MAN (glaring) I’m a rebel with a cause.

STRANGER (dryly) If you were a rebel, you wouldn’t be standing here now, opposite me, chasing death.

The two men stare each other down, the silence thick with tension. The sun dips slightly, casting long shadows. A distant crow caws, breaking the quiet. Hands twitch… ready to draw.

FADE OUT.

Research

Ext a ranch street two men walk out hot daylight

Man

Take a shot stranger you’ll only get one

Stranger

You’ll take the shot now man up

Man

I’m the man I’ll show you you one eyed bandit

Stranger

I’ll take the shot alright right between your eyes that even your mother sees you blink

Man insulted

Dont you talk about my mother

Stranger

I can tell a man from his voice beat you never had a mother

Man

Let’s draw

Stranger

I wouldn’t mind unfortunate if your life was taking so early from the cradle of youth

Man

Im a rebel with a cause

Stranger

If you were a rebel you would not be here standing here opposite me