The Archer

He knows he will be the best archer in the world. His aiming target has been penetrated through it heart several times. And that was his six hundred and sixty-fourth target board.

'You are not aiming properly!' his trainer screams at his face,

He fires a shot.

'Missed! You've missed again!' his trainer bellows. His voice is so piercing that somebody might think he is a woman.

He fires another shot.

'I can't believe this!' his trainer let out an exasperating sigh.

The archer knows the arrows did not miss their target that far away. He just wants to stop this. Two hundred and seventy-six boards. He cannot go further. This is not good. It's bad. He has to stop this insane training. Right here, right now.

'Shoot again!' clearly his trainer's voice is thinning out.

He pulls another arrow and fires again.

'Argh!' his trainer groans. His voice gurgles with phlegm and saliva. 'You... you are not the best archer! You... you lousy scum!'

That's it. That's the threshold. Quickly, he draws his arrow, hoping it will be the final arrow (although he knows it will be the final arrow. He pulls the arrow back at the bow's presumed maximum length. His eyes lock on to his target.

He fires.

And there is no more sound of his trainer.

His trainer has finally got his killing blow on his forehead after several arrows have pierced through his body.

Six hundred and sixty-fifth board. That's it. He is going to retire.

'Six hundred and sixty-six,' a deep hoarse voice echoes in the dark corner.

'I am done here,' the archer says, picking up his arrow from his trainer's body and cleaning them off.

'I can persuade more,' the voice echoes again.

'I am done here,' he repeats, with a firmer voice.

'Then, begone!' the voice roars.

Nobody hears a thing because he is too far away. But there's such a girl who is picking on daisies heard a growling noise, shredding sound and a blood-curdling scream.

Moments later, she finds an abandoned warehouse and walks in.

She smiles.

'Good Cody, how many?'

'Six hundred and sixty-six.'

'Good, good boy...'