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Fingers

Fingers

I still remember the first time I touched a gun like it was yesterday.

My father took me to the local pawn shop and bought the smallest handgun he could afford.

He told me “Maxxy my boy, that’s for defending the home when I’m not around. It is more powerful than anything you have in your room. Be careful though, one pull can change multiple lives so make sure when you pull it, you mean it.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant until years down the road.

After that day, we went to the range every weekend.

I got more and more accurate, hitting bullseye after bullseye until bullet after bullet went through the hole I already made.

I was able to do it as far as that little gun could shoot but I wanted more, scraped together some cash and bought a rifle.

That handgun stayed home mostly after that.

After the learning curve from handgun to rifle, I was just as accurate as before, just further down the range.

I started to enter competitions and quickly climbed the ranks.

My old man bought me a shelf to start holding all the trophies but there soon wasn’t room for it.

Only the ones I was most proud of got their moment in the sun there, the rest were in boxes in the attic.

The only thing that could compare to the trophy collection was the guns across the room.

When you’re still living at home, might as well have fun with the prize money.

However, all those prizes and all those guns didn’t really matter.

At least, not when they should have.

In the middle of the night, our front door got kicked in.

My father went to my room and told me to stay quiet.

I heard him go down the stairs ready to defend our home.

Bang! Thud!

One shot was all it took to change my life forever.

In that instant, my dad was gone and so was the bastard who broke into our home and took something from us that we could never have back.

All those guns didn’t mean anything.

I didn’t get a gun to enter competitions, I got them to protect my family.

I couldn’t even do that.

I had to change, I shaved my head, went to the academy, and told Ares to make me as bloodthirsty as him.

If I was the man I am today, that bastard would be dead but back then, it didn’t matter how many guns I had, it didn’t matter how much of a weapons expert I was.

All that mattered was I didn’t go down and take the shot.

You’re just like the kid I was Jiro, all the guns in the world, all the money, but no real pride in any of it.

It’s why you’re the arms dealer, you’ll give your cause all the power to change Arcadia but you won’t lift a finger let alone use one to pull a trigger.

That’s why I’m not afraid of you boy, even with everything at your disposal to kill me, you won’t do shit.

With useless fingers, countless arms don’t mean anything.

Max Meadows