Six Shooter

Gilbert, A young man who had recently moved to the United States for college, runs into a mysterious girl during after hours at a museum. After their first encounter, his whole life he planned out for himself begins to toppled over, throwing him into a chaotic adventure full of crime, infamousy, and romance.

NOTE: This is my fanfiction. The one on is my own account, I'm just placing it under another name because I didn't like the original name for it. I decided to also put it here because, from what few I've seen, Prussia's characterization is terrible or way too edgy. Plus I want as many people to read it as possible because this is my first time writing a fanfiction, and I'd absolutely love to get feedback to help me better my future writings.


1. Chapter One

All I could do was just stare-- stare in paralyzing fear of the cool, calculated guns pointed directly at me, like bird dogs at the sight of a plump pheasant. Some girl was shouting at me, trying to call over the sirens and the shouts of police officers, repeated claiming things like “There they are!” or “Put your hands up!”, along with other various commands for us to show submission. Barking. Barking like the damn bird dogs they are. I just wanted to retrieve my phone and get the hell out of there as soon as possible, but, of course, bad luck followed, just like always.

    I finally started to recover and raise my hands, but before I could, I was roughly tugged- yet within that second, I was already on the floor- guns and people alike were booming with explosive sound. At first, I couldn’t register anything- only the horrid tunnel hearing mixing with the flaring glocks and shouts; but, instantaneously, pain shot up my spine and side, an ache that throbbed agonizingly. Something had slammed into me and clung onto me tightly, so that I was pressed against the base of a statue, protected from the blazing bullets that seeked to kill. The sudden low hiss of that girl flared into my ear, startling me,”You idiot!” I didn’t snap back with some snarky comment that I usually would come up with. I just laid there, covered in pain, still trying to regain my breath, while dwelling on her accent. She’s clearly not from here, in fact, she sounded Russian. It was a little weird to me because I haven’t met anyone else from the mainland of Europe here, besides myself (not including when my brother had visited me from Germany; of course, he hadn’t move here to the States), yet I quickly dropped the thought. I just wanted to focus on living, on breathing, but that idea was short lived when I saw a gleam from the corner of my eye.

    A gun. She had a gun. Sleek silver and black pistol, pointed at me, but then it moved, now pressed against my neck. The cool metal that had dug into my skin sent shivers down my spine; chilling my already aching body. My heart began to race as I searched her face in mortified horror- the only thing I could do. Her face was cold and hardened as she looked at me--like she’s done this before- killing. Finally, when the shooting craze died down, she spoke. Her voice matched her expression, steely and grim. “Listen to me, and maybe things will run smoothly. Get up.” Though I was hesitant, I did get to my feet. My heart felt heavy and oppressed as I did so, but the dying down of the officers’ guns kept me on edge, as if it would start up again any minute.

    “Go. Run and don’t look back,” Instead of the robotic tang of her heavily accented voice, it had a sort of sympathetic tone, soft and understanding, yet still held a sternness to it. She was helping me escape, but why? That questioning thought was interrupted when she pressed the weapon more into my neck, like a jab, but never removing it from my neck.


I swallowed, nevermind my dry mouth had nothing to soothe my parched throat. Before I started to flee I looked at her. It was hard to make out what she looked like since the only available light was the moonlight that shone through the windows and some of the yellow light of the officers’ flashlights.  She was blonde with tired, deep blue eyes. I noticed something awfully strange on her person though. A skull mask. It was hanging carelessly on a belt hoop by her side. I turned around and sprinted before she could react. I took off as fast as I could; feet pounding against the tile floor, creating a clamorous echo throughout the museum, in which the officers answered with their own barks of tumult. Suddenly, gunfire erupted, and was responded with more, like howling wolves. Luckily, some buzzed right past me- some barely missing while others far off. But just as I thought how lucky I was to not be hit, I felt a sharp sting on my arm, which in response I let out a sharp hiss. I just pushed myself to run faster, forcing myself not to focus on the pain. I took a sharp turn and charged straight for the emergency exit, which to my horror, when I exited, it was blocked off by a couple of officers.

    They looked shocked for a second, but I bolted past them, jumping over the hood of the vehicle that blocked off the exit and ran as fast as my already weary legs were willing to go; the cool autumn air not helping my case. The bewildered shouts of the officers echoed, no thanks to the explosive sound of gunfire. I knew they were chasing me, or at least one of them, so I didn’t dare to slow down. I took corner after corner, darting around parked cars and the occasional person (who gave me questionable looks as I rushed past them), until I finally found myself by an apartment complex, in which I dragged myself up the sliding ladder and waited. It was difficult to calm down my breath, which whitened with the crisp air, and watch, and even moreso when he arrived. Panting little smoky puffs, he looked around, cursing under his breath. He roamed around the area a little more before deciding that I had hid back in the other direction, and so he returned. I didn’t dare to move for awhile longer. I just laid there patiently in the cold, trying to catch my breath. I finally had hopped down and walked out of the alley way. I pulled out my phone, the very thing that made me get in that situation in the first place, and dialed my roommate's number, raising it to my ear. After a moment of listening to an annoying ring, it was answered.

    “Yo, Gilbo, didja meet that cute girly or something? I bet ya did since you’re late from coming back!” He laughed loudly. This comment didn’t exactly humor me, and his laugh almost gave me a headache. I responded quickly,”No, I got caught up in some trouble.. Could you pick me up? I’m somewhere in Astroia, by an apartment complex close to Moving Image..” There was a second of silence from the other end, but finally, he spoke,”Yeah, yeah, sure can do, dude. I knew you said you were going to Astroia to meet someone, but a museum? I don’t think that’s an ideal dating spot.” I rolled my eyes at that remark. Sure, I’m not that great at dating, but he was rubbing it in my face. “Whatever, just please make it over here as quickly as possible.” with another laugh that’d irritate even the most tolerant of people, he hung up. With that, I tugged my deep red toboggan further down to cover both of my ears completely and slipped my phone back into my pocket.

    After about ten until the next passing hour, my roommate showed up. I was basically a popsicle at that point, and I wasn't just shaking because of the cold; I did my best to kept my composure as I got in. The radio was, of course, playing ‘Girl Jams’, which was my roommate’s guilty pleasure. “Any longer and I’d probably been dead, Alfred.” I said, 'joking', but there was truth behind it, because I literally felt like I was freezing to death out there, and that wasn't the most pleasant experience. He hummed smugly,”Shouldn’t be out so late then, lover boy.” He cackled at his own remark, which made me jeer a bit. “Never call me that ever again.”

    He began to chuckle, but froze in silence just as quickly as he had started. "What the hell happened?" I followed his eyes, which met where the bullet had grazed my arm. I merely responded with indifference, though the look on my face was still a bit shaken up, and that definitely didn't fly past his radar. "I told you I was in trouble. It's best left unsaid.." I honestly forgot about it. The cold was numbing it's sting down and my entire body was in pain to the point I grew immune to it for a bit, and on top of that, I was too traumatized by the other happenings than a graze injury. Though, I know it will give me hell tomorrow. My entire body will. Alfred continued to poke and prod at me to tell him throughout the drive, no matter how much I assured him that I was fine and that it'd take more than that to really get to me, even though that whole incident really did.

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