Standing in a shooting range, infront of a counter with one of Kafka’s silvery MAC-10's lying on it, you cant help but be nervous. This will be your first time using a firearm, after all.

Kafka soon enters the room, closing the door with a click, before walking over to you. She stands right behind you, before speaking up.

"Waiting for something, darling? Pick up the gun in your hand." - she says, her voice as calm and soothing as always.

Nodding, you slowly reach your right arm out, before enveloping your hand around the handle of the gun, the feeling of cold metal sending shivers down your spine. With your hand trembling, you slowly lift the firearm off the black, wooden surface, your arm fully extended as you hold the silvery MAC-10 in front of yourself, your left eye closed as you try to adjust your aim.

Then, you feel Kafka’s right hand slide up to your own, stabilizing it. You look back, only to see her usual smile on her lips.

"Hold your breath in when you are aiming, and when you are ready, pull the trigger." - she explains.

Looking back at the target far away infront of you, you take a deep breath, keeping it in, as you aim at the dummy. Your index finger slowly pulls on the trigger...

BANG!

The casing of the bullet exits the gun's chamber, falling to the floor with a light CLINK!

Your breath hitches.

Your ears ring slightly, your eyes closing out of instinct, smoke coming out of the barrel of the MAC-10. Slowly, you open your eyes. Your hand is shaking like you had just seen a Ghost. You look at the dummy.

... You barely hit it's torso.

You sigh in disappointment.

Kafka chuckles, still holding your hand with the firearm in it.

"This isn't half bad, you know? Considering you have never used a gun before, that is."