‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
40
As Taylor was led into the training room for possibly the tenth day in a row, he automatically knelt in his assumed position. His escort closed the door behind him and remained outside the room, leaving him alone with the master.
“I’d like you to come and sit at the table,” were the first words he spoke, “today I’ll be doing an evaluation of our progress.”
Taylor gave him a quick glance, making sure he knew what he meant, before making his way to the chair and pulling himself up into it. His eyes immediately fell on a silver pistol set on the table in front of him.
“Go ahead. Take it.”
Taylor’s eyes shot up with a questioning look, seeing that the man was deadly serious. Not wanting to test him on what would happen if he didn’t take it as ordered, he slowly and carefully reached out for it and pulled it towards him.
“Pick it up,” the man instructed, “I want you to get a good feel for it. Its weight, its texture…”
Taylor did as instructed, trying not to let his mind encourage him to do something more with it than what the man asked.
“Inside this gun, is a single bullet,” the man informed him, casually taking a seat on the edge of the table, “with your mind’s eye, I’d like you to focus on it.”
Taylor gave him another curious glance, but tried to at least look like he was focusing regardless. It was hard to do.
“Now I’d like you to remember something. Something from your old life,” he carried on with the calm and steady voice of a hypnotist, “it can even be multiple things. People, places, and experiences, that gave that life meaning. Anything that might still be circling your subconscious and causing negative connotations… emotions, such as sadness, loss, betrayal, and maybe even anger. Then I want you to visualise all of that energy and move it into the gun.”
Taylor frowned, confused, but trying his best to do as he was told. He managed to keep the stray tears at bay as memories of home came to him because he just as soon pushed them away.
“Are you done?”
“Yes Master,” Taylor responded immediately.
“Good. Now I’d like you to place your pointer finger on the trigger, and the barrel to the underside of your chin.”
Taylor’s eyes shot up to him again, not believing his sincerity. When he got nothing from the expression on the man’s face, his hand shakily took its position on the gun.
“Good boy,” the man said steadily, seeing him at least trying to comply, “now raise it. You can do it.”
Taylor closed his eyes, trying to tell himself to just get it over with. It was only a lesson, he was sure. He obediently put the barrel to his chin and waited.
“Now pull the trigger.”
The words themselves were enough to send a shockwave through him so intense that he accidentally pulled the trigger without even thinking. When nothing happened he dropped the gun to the table.
“Good boy,” Taylor heard him move slightly, before sliding the gun across the table back towards him, “now open your eyes.”
Taylor did so, only then realising how much he was shaking.
The master was smiling down at him.
“I’d like you to come and sit at the table,” were the first words he spoke, “today I’ll be doing an evaluation of our progress.”
Taylor gave him a quick glance, making sure he knew what he meant, before making his way to the chair and pulling himself up into it. His eyes immediately fell on a silver pistol set on the table in front of him.
“Go ahead. Take it.”
Taylor’s eyes shot up with a questioning look, seeing that the man was deadly serious. Not wanting to test him on what would happen if he didn’t take it as ordered, he slowly and carefully reached out for it and pulled it towards him.
“Pick it up,” the man instructed, “I want you to get a good feel for it. Its weight, its texture…”
Taylor did as instructed, trying not to let his mind encourage him to do something more with it than what the man asked.
“Inside this gun, is a single bullet,” the man informed him, casually taking a seat on the edge of the table, “with your mind’s eye, I’d like you to focus on it.”
Taylor gave him another curious glance, but tried to at least look like he was focusing regardless. It was hard to do.
“Now I’d like you to remember something. Something from your old life,” he carried on with the calm and steady voice of a hypnotist, “it can even be multiple things. People, places, and experiences, that gave that life meaning. Anything that might still be circling your subconscious and causing negative connotations… emotions, such as sadness, loss, betrayal, and maybe even anger. Then I want you to visualise all of that energy and move it into the gun.”
Taylor frowned, confused, but trying his best to do as he was told. He managed to keep the stray tears at bay as memories of home came to him because he just as soon pushed them away.
“Are you done?”
“Yes Master,” Taylor responded immediately.
“Good. Now I’d like you to place your pointer finger on the trigger, and the barrel to the underside of your chin.”
Taylor’s eyes shot up to him again, not believing his sincerity. When he got nothing from the expression on the man’s face, his hand shakily took its position on the gun.
“Good boy,” the man said steadily, seeing him at least trying to comply, “now raise it. You can do it.”
Taylor closed his eyes, trying to tell himself to just get it over with. It was only a lesson, he was sure. He obediently put the barrel to his chin and waited.
“Now pull the trigger.”
The words themselves were enough to send a shockwave through him so intense that he accidentally pulled the trigger without even thinking. When nothing happened he dropped the gun to the table.
“Good boy,” Taylor heard him move slightly, before sliding the gun across the table back towards him, “now open your eyes.”
Taylor did so, only then realising how much he was shaking.
The master was smiling down at him.