My Brother, The Devil ✔

09

Blair POV.

Eli opens the door. He shouts to the two bodyguards outside, "Get her gun! Kill her!"

But just before my gun is taken away, another figure rushes into the room like the wind, swiftly locking one of the bodyguards' throat and knocking him down.

"Miss Blair!"

Today, Amelia is wearing a black leather jacket, looking nothing like a family doctor; also, when did she learn martial arts?

I briefly ponder but abandon the question, because I see Eli crawling towards the door.

I lean against the wall and stand up.

"Miss Blair!" Amelia calls out urgently while dealing with the other bodyguard. "Please don't leave my side, Miss Blair!"

I stumble out of the room, leaning against the wall.

The corridor is dim, and I see Eli hobbling ahead, firing another shot casually.

Let it all end, this world.

Finally, the gunshot alarms the concert downstairs. Screams emanate from the dance floor on the first floor, and many people, hearing the gunfire, start panicking and running around.

"Brother, where should I aim?"

As a kid, I wore earmuffs and held a gun, aiming at humanoid targets in a distance. The humanoid targets were made realistic, with bullseyes on key areas like the head, throat, chest, and limbs. It was my first time playing shooting, and I couldn't understand all those points. Where should I aim?

I begged George to take me out with him, and he brought me to the shooting range.

The tall man stood behind me, one hand supporting the table, the other holding my hands. There was a built-in infrared sight on my pistol, the red dot steadily rising, finally landing on the bullseye on the humanoid target's head.

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Aim for the forehead."

I pull the trigger.

The next second, Amelia pounces on me, rolling us aside. The bullet deviates from its path in that instant, grazing Eli's ear. Eli screams in panic.

Amelia holds me, panting. I really have no strength left now.

"Miss Blair, can you hear me?" She asks anxiously. "Have they drugged you?"

I'm groggy, and my voice is hoarse, but I managed to say, "Yes."

She takes the gun from my hand and tucks it into her waistband.

Watching her skillfully handle the safety catch, I remember the shooting range in Country B, where she claimed she couldn't shoot, "Amelia, you lied to me."

Then I close my eyes.

I heard frantic footsteps, car sounds, the rolling of wheels, and then the ticking of instruments.

I really want to open my eyes, but I can't.

I start dreaming again, dreaming of the winter when I was eight years old, when the sky was cold, and the sunlight felt like the light inside a refrigerator.

The land by the lake was icy and slippery, and I fell into the lake, which was very dark, and I couldn't see anything.

It seemed like there were countless ghosts at the bottom of the lake, reaching out countless hands to drag me down until a warm hand suddenly grabbed me.

When I open my eyes again, only George is in the ward.

"You're awake," he leans over to look at me, his hand on my pillow, his broad figure blocking the light in the room.