Shooting Range, Thursday Afternoon
The problem with this weird shit where Fandom was fine but trouble yanked him back every so often was-- Dante got restless. Really restless. You got used to fights real fast; they were a great way to get rid of excess energy.
Plus it had been at least a week since he'd last gotten to really say hi to his girls.
Or rather, since they'd gotten a chance to say hi back. But they were definitely having their time to talk now. Peppered the first target with a whole round of words, ten in the head, ten in the chest. The second one got ten in both lungs at the same time. The third, a giant hole blown through its chest, and then the ricochet bounced off the back wall and hit the fourth target right in the head.
Then pinged off the ceiling and grazed the side of that last target before burying itself somewhere over there with the rest of the bullets.
"Aw, damn it."
He'd hoped that one had gone through the target's crotch.
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Plus it had been at least a week since he'd last gotten to really say hi to his girls.
Or rather, since they'd gotten a chance to say hi back. But they were definitely having their time to talk now. Peppered the first target with a whole round of words, ten in the head, ten in the chest. The second one got ten in both lungs at the same time. The third, a giant hole blown through its chest, and then the ricochet bounced off the back wall and hit the fourth target right in the head.
Then pinged off the ceiling and grazed the side of that last target before burying itself somewhere over there with the rest of the bullets.
"Aw, damn it."
He'd hoped that one had gone through the target's crotch.
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