My eyes attentively followed the knife until it struck the target.
It flew into a perfect bull's-eye.
I felt my jaw fall a little afterwards, making my mouth open slightly. I blinked a few times, but my focal point of the lodged knife never left.
It was positioned exactly in the center of the body-shaped target, wedged right into the heart area.
I was in disbelief; I had never before thrown a knife, let alone been able to throw one perfectly. I somehow squinted and widened my eyes at the same time, blinking even more as I did so. My mind drew a complete blank while conjuring up an answer as to how a perfect shot was even possible.
After a few seconds, I snapped myself out of my daze, and peered over towards the nurse.
She, too, stared nearly wide-eyed at the struck target. I noted that her hands were now relaxed at her sides instead of placed on her hips.
She remained in the same position, eyes locked ahead of herself, as she began to open her mouth. No sound escaped, though, and she soon after reclosed it.
Suddenly, she blinked her eyes rapidly, and shifted her view away from the target. She then looked around, almost hurriedly, while taking a step backwards.
After a few seconds, she stopped, and turned towards me.
Her mouth opened, but again released only silence.
I watched her carefully, observing her movements. After attempting and failing speech, she quickly turned her body around to face the way opposite me. She took just a few steps forward, and approached the desk by the wall. Her right hand reached down and slipped inside the same drawer it had before. And, just as before, she pulled out a similar, thin and long knife.
She practically whipped her body back around to face me. I noted that her expression was once again normal. A small smirk was plastered onto her partially masked face.
Her feet strode in my direction slowly.
I kept myself nearly emotionless when she was able to stand herself in front of me.
"Do it again," She commanded. Her hand shot up in between us, the new knife loosely gripped in it.
My eyes instantly readjusted to the knife tip, held almost directly in front of my face. I maintained my blank facial the entire time.
Before another word could even be spoken, I reached up with my right hand, and grabbed the knife by the handle. My fingers practically wrapped around hers, since she was also still clutching the knife.
I flickered my eyes up to meet with hers, waiting impatiently for her to release her grip. She glared back at me, her smirk mysteriously dissipated.
She then allowed her hand to slowly and carefully slide out from underneath mine. She stretched her fingers out as she pulled it back. Only when she had fully returned it to her side did she begin to step backwards.
Once she had commenced her backing away, I turned my body back towards the targets across the long room. The last knife had remained in its place: wedged into the center of the middle target. The other two targets to the right and left were both torn and worn, but currently untouched.
My sight snapped quickly to the left one.
I inhaled deeply, and repeated the exact same process I had previously. My left arm raised itself in front of me, my left eye closed, and my right wrist prepared to flick the knife away.
I counted to three in my mind, and then released the sharp knife in a fast fashion.
I watched as it flew across the room, and after stared when it missed my aim.
