Writing Prompt Perfect-Shot Villain vs Protagonist... With a twist.

[Aiyoki]

Premise:
Pitted against each other in a final fight the Protagonist is faced with a villain who is renowned for their 100% shoot and kill ratio.

The villain holds true to this record and makes every shot with 100% accuracy, hitting the protagonist.

Task:
In 500 words or more, write about how the protagonist managed to survive this encounter after taking one (or more) shots from the villain that should have been fatal.

 

[TotallyHuman]

Hiiro was laying in pain, the villain, as promised, shot him.
"Am I going to die? I see the light!"
"Don't be so dramatic kid, it was just a booster vaccine"
"The government poisoned me!"

 

[AliceShiki]

"How did you survive!?" Evil Villain A exclaimed.

"... Did you really think I was going to face someone who shoots with perfect accuracy without a bulletproof vest?" I replied.

"Oh... That's a good point actually. Why did nobody do that before?" Evil Villain A pouted.
---------------------------
Sorry, I'm no good with writing stuff related to fights and whatnot. So this is the best I can give for this kind of prompt.

A bit too far from 500+ words though... >.>

 

[Aiyoki]

These are short and sweet but they're still good all the same

The doctor shot was both creative and funny!

The bulletproof vest was clever!

 

[GlassRose]

"How are you still standing!?"
Altaire screamed at the Hero, his black robes billowing evily in the wind. Claude gave a wry grin.
"It was tough, I'll admit, thinking of a counter to your Sure-Hit power... but just because something hits you, doesn't mean it does any damage. So I had this made!"
He gestured to his armor, specifically, a gemstone set in the chestplate.
"It slows down all of your arrows right before they hit me! Your attacks have no power behind them!"
"NoOoOOooooOOOoOOoO!!"

Or, alternatively;

"You- monster! You would block my arrows with your arm?! How can you withstand the pain!? The arrowhead is poking out the other side!!"
"Oh this? This is nothing, compared to the beating Alice gave me that one time I accidentally walked in on her in the bath... I swear to this day, legs should not be able to take that orientation. And don't get me started on the knives... thought my skin would never grow back."
Altaire flinched.
"She's insane."
"Free circumcision though. And she's nothing compared to Christine. I swear, I really thought I would die when she saw me talking to a woman on the street."
"Dude, I pity you."
"She was sixty. And yeah, I get that a lot. Anyhow, if I'm not back by seven, Sarah's gonna torture me, so let's get back to killing each other, shall we?"
"Are any of the women surrounding you sane!?"
"Jessie is. Well, she's five, so I don't know if she counts."
"..."

Hiiro was laying in pain, the villain, as promised, shot him.
"Am I going to die? I see the light!"
"Don't be so dramatic kid, it was just a booster vaccine"
"The government poisoned me!"

What about the 100% kill ratio tho?

"How did you survive!?" Evil Villain A exclaimed.

"... Did you really think I was going to face someone who shoots with perfect accuracy without a bulletproof vest?" I replied.

"Oh... That's a good point actually. Why did nobody do that before?" Evil Villain A pouted.
---------------------------
Sorry, I'm no good with writing stuff related to fights and whatnot. So this is the best I can give for this kind of prompt.

A bit too far from 500+ words though... >.>

Headshot tho?

 

[TotallyHuman]

What about the 100% kill ratio tho?

everyone who took the vaccine will 100% die

 

[GlassRose]

everyone who took the vaccine will 100% die

XD
For that matter, anyone who has at any point consumed Dihydrogen Monoxide is also subject to a 100% fatality rate.

 

[TotallyHuman]

XD
For that matter, anyone who has at any point consumed Dihydrogen Monoxide is also subject to a 100% fatality rate.

yep

 

[HungrySheep]

Just a tad over 500 words. Not my best piece, but I don't think it's my worst either.

Spoiler: REACH HEAVEN THROUGH YURI

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Forty...

"...Why won't you die?" Eris spoke through gritted teeth, her frustration evident in her voice. Her fingers tightened around the grip of her pistol. She squeezed the trigger, unloading another bullet from the weapon's chamber. Again, it was a perfect shot. It struck dead center of her target's head, penetrating through the rigid bone of their skull, the mushy grey matter of their brain, and through the other side.

By all means, her target should have died more than forty times by now. Yet there they stood in front of her again, a challenging smirk dancing on their lips mischievously.

"I told you already, didn't I?" Victoria walked toward Eris for the forty-second time. Though the barrel of Eris' gun was still leveled at her head, Victoria felt no fear. Death no longer presented an end to her. "You and I. We're stuck here for all eternity."

Indeed. Every death she experienced, every lance of pain, all of it merely heralded a new beginning. No matter how many times she was fatally shot whether it be in the head, the heart, or in a multitude of different places, the two of them would always appear back in their original places. Eris would stand across from Victoria, a gun pointed to the latter's head. Victoria would merely smile, unarmed and at the mercy of Eris.

But Victoria would never experience the release of death, nor would Eris ever realize her grand design so long as the two of them remained trapped in this closed loop of time.

Eris glared at her opponent who continued approaching her before finally lowering her weapon. Though she was normally accustomed to the mere sight of her firearm striking fear into the eyes of her enemies, she knew the gun no longer presented any threat to Victoria. In fact, it hadn't presented a threat even from the very moment they met.

"Now I know why they say you never miss... Because you've already shot me right through the heart." Those were the very first words Victoria had said to Eris, and they now rang embarrassingly loud in her mind as she felt Victoria's slender fingers cup her chin. The undying, time-loop-inducing woman was frustratingly taller than Eris, and the motion forced her to look up into Victoria's eyes.

"...You know, you'll never get what you want if you don't free us from this damned loop." Eris said.

"What I want?" Victoria laughed. "I've only ever wanted one thing, Eris. And now that you're here... Now that you've activated the Crucible, I have everything I've ever wanted."

"W-What the hell are you even saying!?" Eris blushed despite herself. She knew she shouldn't feel anything for the woman who had stopped her right on the cusp of victory. The Crucible was a device capable of reshaping the world, and it had been right at her fingertips until Victoria arrived. "Didn't you want to save the world? Are you really going to abandon everything you did to stop me just for this... For this stupid moment!?"

"Why not?"

For a moment, Eris was stunned.

"Because...! Because you—"

"Shh." Victoria silenced Eris, pressing her lips against the would-be villainess'. "It's more than just a moment, isn't it? Now... We have an eternity together."

 

[TheKillingAlice]

I'm a bit on the pragmatic side, so it's hard for me to come up with something for an inherently conflicting prompt like this, but that's why I tried to challenge myself in the first place.
Because if the guy has percent kill ratio and manages to get the shot in as planned, that would mean the hero dies, unless he's Anos and doesn't die when he's killed (the audacity to think killing someone could actually kill someone, right?).
497 words tho, that was a kinda close one.

Spoiler: WordsWordsWords

An assassin. The best in his field. The truest form of a shadow in broad daylight.

The Huntsman, that's what they called him.

While he had always loved the hunt, he didn't share much of his sadistic nature with a real hunter. He lacked the respect they had for their prey, as his unique signature had been to shoot his victims when they felt save. He would tail them for weeks or months if he had to, hiding in plain sight around them, until they forgot about it, had they ever known of the danger they were in.

Once they felt comfortable, were alone and unassuming, he would cock back, aim and fire. He would hit his target, as he always had. The shot resulting in the prey bleeding out for hours, it was part of his game.

His arrogance knew no bounds, so here he was, a new roe deer in his headlights, dancing naively in the crosshair.

Bang. The first hit aimed for his lower abdomen. Bang. Another one into his thigh.

Neither of them aimed for a bone. One was to wound the prey lethally, the other was to hinder mobility, but causing not enough pain to divert attention from the agony of slowly dying in vain.

It was his desire to watch them take their last breath, for that he sometimes waited an hour or longer if his hit was on the tougher side.

Yet he would never finish them off. That was what the young man on the ground knew as well.

Had he not arranged for this hit on his head by himself, he would have never gotten to prepare everything he had needed for this.

It took barely five minutes for a lean figure to show up where the shots had been fired from, like a shadow looming over the Huntsman, holding a steel barrel to his head.

"Curtain call, bitch."

There was considerable damage done to their bait, in other words the brain of their operation, as he couldn't smuggle in a bulletproof vest at all times without raising suspicion. It had to be the perfect play to lure the hunter out of the woods.

But at least they continuously observed and had an a doctor and a car to the hospital ready, as they knew the Huntsman was going to bleed him out. He would never change that.

His arrogance had kept him from believing he could ever fail in his endeavors, but now it had cost him his head, as one last shot was fired, dying the floor of his hideout red.

"Are you sure that much pain was worth it?" she asked, adjusting her small earpiece.

To him, it was justice - to her, it was madness. But she aided his madness - all of their team did - so what did that make them?

All he could do in his position was snicker in response to that, but that was all the answer she had needed anyway.

 

[Arkus86]

The only way to protect yourself from a sure-hit, sure-kill technique, is to offer another life for your own.
The catch is, that the life you offer has to be of similar or higher potential to your own, which for humans is another sentient being, and for a god-chosen Hero, only another life with the touch of divinity would do.
Fortunately, as everyone knows, cats have nine lives given from the Dark God himself when they are spawned in this world, and so cary just that touch in each of them, twisted by the dark power as it is.

So what our heroic protagonist did is, he captured cats to sacrifice in an ancient, forgotten blood ritual, draining all their lives for himself.
Or to be more specific, he sacrificed dozens of kittens for the greater good, to reduce the chance they already lost some lives. Would not want to waste all that effort, or worse, end up dead because you only got half the lives from them you expected to get.

This way, the great, shining Hero could survive hunderds of blows from the evil Demon King, by shielding himself in the lives he stole, wearing them like an ethereal cloak billowing in the wind as he fought his nemesis to the death.

 

[NineHeadHeavenDevouringSerpent]

Roth calmly looked at the figure walking into the restaurant from his perfect vantage point. It was a cool breezy afternoon with the sun just slowly settling behind him.

Keeping his binoculars aside he took a small book resting just by his side and swiftly glossed over the almost ineligible sketchings.

'Wind seems to be on my side today...Odd'

His hands back on his weapon he rested his good eye on the scope, letting his target ease itself into the perfect position.

'just few more steps left now..you can do it'

Roth's body was relaxed, his mind empty of any thoughts other than his target. Though this was just another day at work, Roth was prudent and experienced enough to know slacking off in his line of work could mean the end.

The unfortunate target had just settled into their seat. A waiter popped a nice bottle of Chateau and the target tilted the wine glass a bit to recieve it in his left hand.

Something glistened on the side of the glass, and the almost non-chalant figure holding the glass froze just for a split second before returning to its graceful laziness.

'uhh..that's weird, his breathing just went off beat there..'

Roth squinted his eyes, but thought nothing of it, it was too brief and he passed it off as something the target just got excited from something on the menu.

Seeing his target had aligned itself to the intended position and there was no chances of sudden shifts, Roth very gently brought his finger down on the trigger, like a feather falling down on a still water.

Just moments before his fingers had pressed deep enough to set off the trigger Roth felt a terrifying forbidding and all he could think before it was too late was

'Not good! How did I mis...'

His thoughts cut short by the muffled crack of the metal projectile breaking the sound barrier just when it exited the muzzle.

The sound was a bit weird, a bit too loud and if an expert listened they could probably make out that there was actually a second crack of shockwave, just femto seconds from each other.

CrAck!

BANG!

The restaurant front windows shattered like fine sand, the interior thrown into chaos breaking the decadent splendor of its design.

Guttural screams broke out from men and women, quickly devolving into cries for help and shock.

But Roth hadn't the time to witness any of it, he couldn't even revel at his work, nor confirm whether his shot hit true to mark. For his body lied to the side, looking like he was blown away from front by something heavy. There was a pool of blood under his head.

There was a nasty hole on his left eye, his eyes clearly no longer present with its flesh deeply black and burnt, even wisps of smoke could be made out. Roth had been shot clean through his left eye, the opening was almost like a point blank shot made just inches from his eye.


Meanwhile, the shouts suddenly calmed down over at the restaurant. People were coming to terms with what happened and taking actions instead of incoherent screaming.

What they saw made several of them mad with rage. There sat a finely suited middle aged man, holding a shattered bottom of a wine glass in his left hand, and a hefty matte black gun in his right, resting on the table with the smoke still fresh out of its muzzle.

Perceptive ones could make out a micro expression of a smirk on his European face, his body not tensed at all, like it hadn't even been the one close to death just moments ago.

"Hmmm, I let him take a shot, I'm getting clumsy i guess...haha"

The somewhat of a brief silence was broken by his charming chuckle, people around felt perplexed before quickly joining the ones running out the crime scene in haste.

This was not something they wanted to get involved in and ruin their perfect life of luxury, someone else can worry about it. Their life was too precious to think about trying to understand what happened back there.

The figure glanced around at the mayhem, clicking his tongue in somewhat of a mocking regret he stood up and swiftly made his way over to the restaurant's kitchen. Presumably to exit from the kitchen doors, away from the prying eyes that would befall any minutes from now.

**********

Several hours later, the streets had returned to their usual calm of traffic and bustling crowds, it almost seemed like nothing had ever occurred here. If not for the still battered scene of the broken window, with police barricade tapes strewn all over the restaurant front, no-one would realise something had gone wrong here.


And something did go wrong, horribly wrong. Roth had failed his mission, and moreover he was at his death's door in a shabby worn down, makeshift of a operating table in a very questionable room.

How could a man shot clean through his head survive you ask?

Only one that had already been shot right in the same spot decades ago and survived to tell the tale.

Roth the one eye smith, was known for having lost his left eye in his military time in marines, the miraculous survival was actually jotted down in select few medical journals.

Even with parts of his brain fried through and a hole for his left eye, Roth had little to no sequela and was battle-ready within months.

Doctors had also made an interesting and quirky discovery over the several months of his recovery. The hole extending right out of his left eye socket to the back had healed but it wasn't building with vital blood viens, aortas or nerve cells, instead was replaced with muscle tissues, and yet that development didn't seemed to hamper his motor skills or any other functions at all.

Infact they made a bold claim that Roth could be shot again and again in his left eye without certain fatality, he could bleed to death but won't be instantly put out of commission.

Roth had put it off as a dark joke from the weird docs back then, he didn't think about it much, and was certainly not planning on trying it out.


Until now....


Waking up, he felt like someone was hammering his head with gongs. He had never felt this sever of a headache ever in his life, not even when he was shot in the head... 'Well the first one'


Looking around he could make out the familiar safe house, and gritted his teeth when he slowly went through the horrifying event.

'Some m*therf**er set me up!'

There was no way the target was civilian. If he was civilian than Roth would consider himself an ant, a literal ant. Cause he knew the skills and power required to pull of that shot, with split second preparation in that disadvantaged vantage point, nothing less than a supreme grandmaster of assassination would suffice.

'To think I survived a clash against a supreme grandmaster... Ssk..ssk well something turned out go...Urrgggh!'

He writhed in pain and went quiet, he needed to let his body heal before he thought of anything else now.


THE END.


Ps: hope i filled the 500 quota..XD sorry I'm prone to streching it too much :p

 

[Cortavar]

I didn't count words, but it's fairly short, here's my take :

Spoiler: Codename: Victim

The man was barely out of his teens, yet he was scolding a much-older looking man, one with the looks of a grizzled veteran and a fairly impressive sniper rifle on his lap.

"No, you can't swap again until we find a suitable villain."

"But I'm a giiiirl!" The older man whined with a deep voice and a girlish pout.

"Look, Victim, at least you're human this time!"

"WE DO NOT TALK ABOUT THE CROC!"

"Alright, alright, but it got you your latest body..."

"And I really liked it! She was gorgeous!"

"I'll admit she cleaned up nicely for a poacher. Still, no running into a police station shouting Alah Wakbar with your guns out. Those guys would just be doing their job. Besides, I have a better mission for you."

"Oooh? Please tell me it's a girl! I don't want to be stuck inside an old man's body forever!"

"It's a woman, and a beautiful one at that. Her last three husbands have died in mysterious circumstances, leaving her with a fairly large inheritance each time. How would you like to be number 4?"

 

[Succubiome]

Mifuru raised her sniper rifle, and aimed it at my head in a casual but graceful sweep. "Please back down." She was muscular enough to aim a sniper rifle with one hand, and didn't even need the sight at this distance-- and I had no doubt that red dot was on my forehead, as I had seen on so many of enemies. Enemies who had backed down, and enemies who had died. I couldn't remember her ever missing a shot.

"The System is evil," I said softly. "You know that. What it enforces on this world is cruel, and unnecessary. People shouldn't have to suffer over and over and over again just to make what it thinks is right." I took a step forwards.

Her finger raised to the trigger. "Please don't make me do this, Ennifer. I... really don't want to kill you. But you do know who I'll choose. She's like a mother to me. Don't call her 'The System'."

"And I don't want to die." I could feel my body trembling. Fear. "Dafu Mara raised you, I know. But she also put the wheels in motion to bring you under her power. If you need to kill me, then I understand, but I can't leave this alone. You understand that too, right?" I took another step closer.

"Please, Ennifer...." She looked at me with tears in her eyes. "I can't betray my mother."

"I'm sorry." I took another step forwards.

Funny thing about sniper rifles that fire at supersonic speeds-- if you're the target, you don't even hear the shot. I didn't even feel pain. Truly, a merciful executioner.

A few moments later, I opened my eyes in a new body. So... I was right. I did have at least one extra life left. I opened the door in front of me, and and stepped back into the room.

My body was in Mifuru's arms, and she was sobbing as she hugged the lifeless thing close, murmuring apologies.

"It's okay, Mifuru," I said softly. "Don't be sad. I'm still here."

Her eyes flickered between me and the body in her arms, and her sniper rifle raised again unerringly despite her tears. "How many lives do you have, Ennifer?"

I pondered this for a moment. I suspected nine, given the cat aspect I had gained since The System rejected me... but maybe this wasn't the place to be utterly honest. "I had at least three. Further than that, I can't be sure. I don't have the ability to view my character sheet anymore."

"Please give up. If you accept her, Dafu Mara will guide you again, I'm sure of it. She's kind to us. She loves you!" Mifuru looked up at me pleadingly, although her rifle never faltered from aiming perfectly at my head.

"She's very kind... to us." I took a step forwards. "To everyone in this world, not so much. Please don't shoot me."

Mifiru lowered her rifle's barrel to aim at my leg. "I don't have to kill you to stop you."

"That would really hurt, but I'm grateful you're feeling mercy towards me... in a way. Does 'One Shot, One Kill' let you perfectly disable people too?"

"I don't know... The text description is kind of vague...." Mifuru held back a sob. "Ennifer... please... I don't want to hurt you, you know that...."

"I know. I'm sorry. I can't let everyone else suffer under Dafu Mara." I took another step forwards.

I suddenly felt pain in my leg, then my chest, and collapsed to the ground as I heard the shot. I coughed up blood-- somehow the shot had ricocheted or broken off a fragment of bone, and either way my lungs were punctured and bleeding out.

Mifuru rushed towards me as I coughed up blood, gun still trained on my head. "Are you...?"

I coughed up blood. "Alive? Barely." It was hard to get out words. Now that Nivasaca was dead, there was no one who could heal this sort of wound, I was fairly sure. I was dying slowly.

"I'm sorry. Please, if you come back... give up?" Everything went away.

I opened my eyes, took a deep breath, and lifted my shaking hand to open the handle, every fiber of my body telling me not to go into the door where only pain and death awaited me.

Mifuru let out a weepy sigh as I stepped back in. "Given up?"

"No. You?"

Her sniper rifle raised effortlessly to aim at my forehead as she stared down at my corpse in front of her.

We both waited.

I took another step forwards, and Mifuru dropped her rifle, ran up, and aimed a fist at my head. I swept it aside, knocking her fist into the wall where it left a crack.

We both knew she couldn't beat me in hand to hand combat.

"Thank you, Mifuru. And I'm sorry."

"Just... don't kill her, okay? It's not mom's fault for existing the way she does."

"I'll do my best. If I'm correct, I might be able to reprogram her."

I stepped past Mifuru, and walked down the hall towards the server room, and looked up to one of the security cameras. "I don't hate you, Dafu Maru. Despite everything. I'm going to see if I can help you."

 

[Aiyoki]

I'm really liking what's come out of this prompt so far!

 

[Zinless]

 

[J_Chemist]

I'm not gonna write it because gym and lazy but-

• Wife and husband doing sexy time.
• Wife is into it but mentally complaining. Loves husband but she's a tired lass.
• They've already got 5 kids.
• Every nut has been a child. No fail. With and without protection. With and without b.control.
• Dude just never fucking misses.
• He finishes.
• It's inside.
• Wife: "Fuck. That's number 6."
• Husband: "Oh. Shit. My bad honey."
• Wife: "I hate it here."
• Two weeks later, she is indeed pregnant. Again.

 

[AliceShiki]

Headshot tho?

For the record, quotes added on edits don't trigger alerts.

And I considered it, but the idea of the prompt was to have the protagonist survive the bullet, so ending it with like...

"You do know I can shoot you in the head, right?" Villain said.
"Oh..." I said.

Wouldn't be very fulfilling. I figured it would be better to end at the bulletproof vest part instead even if there was an obvious loophole there~

... But yes, you're absolutely right. Headshots would lead to the villain's victory~

 

[Hasu_Riri]

Nameless stood before his arch-enemies, Unknown, in the heart of the abandoned industrial complex. The dim, flickering lights cast eerie shadows, emphasizing the gravity of the impending confrontation. His comically large greatsword, an iconic emblem of his prowess, gleamed in the feeble light, ready to clash against the enigmatic force that was Unknown.

Unknown, shrouded in a cloak of darkness, had always been a mystery. No one knew their true identity or motives, but their actions wreaked havoc wherever they went. Today, however, Nameless was determined to put an end to their reign of chaos, or at least he thought he was.

"Your shots are useless, Unknown, for I have worn the ultimate battlesuit," Nameless declared with unwavering resolve, but the battlesuit wasn't as impressive as he had hoped. It was more like a mix between a medieval knight's armor and a cheap sci-fi movie prop.

Unknown's eyes narrowed beneath their shadowy hood, trying to stifle a laugh. They hadn't expected Nameless to come prepared for this battle, but they certainly hadn't expected this fashion disaster. Their signature weapon, a high-powered energy blaster, seemed futile against Nameless's impervious armor, or what he claimed to be armor.

"Drat! Why are you wearing a full metal battle suit?!" Unknown exclaimed, struggling to maintain a serious tone as they gestured to Nameless's hodgepodge of mismatched metal pieces.

Nameless, undeterred by the questionable fashion choices, took a step forward, his heavy boots clanking like pots and pans. "I wear this battlesuit to protect the innocent, to ensure that your reign of terror ends today," he proclaimed, his voice echoing with conviction, though it was hard to take him seriously in his makeshift armor.

The tension in the air was palpable as the two adversaries circled each other, though it was less like a dramatic standoff and more like a slow, awkward dance. The battle was not just physical but also a clash of ideologies. Nameless represented justice, order, and the unwavering fight against evil, or so he believed, while Unknown thrived in the shadows, embracing chaos and anarchy, which made this whole situation even funnier.

Without warning, Unknown unleashed a barrage of energy blasts from their blaster. The searing beams of light illuminated the darkness, creating a dazzling display of destructive power. But Nameless's battlesuit held strong, deflecting each blast with resolute determination, or at least it tried to. Some of the blasts merely bounced off the tin-foil-like armor, while others singed his cardboard helmet.

Nameless countered, swinging his comically large greatsword with remarkable agility for someone clad in such heavy armor. The sword, a relic of his past battles, glinted as it sliced through the air, or rather, it would have if it weren't made of foam.

Sparks flew as they clashed against Unknown's blaster, creating a brilliant spectacle of clashing forces, or at least it would have been brilliant if it weren't for the fact that the sparks were generated by a couple of sparklers Nameless had taped to the sword.

As the battle raged on, the abandoned industrial complex bore witness to an epic showdown between, well, a fashion-challenged hero and an enemy who couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. The echoes of combat reverberated through the silent halls, a testament to the unwavering resolve of Nameless to take himself seriously, and the enigmatic determination of Unknown to keep a straight face.

In the end, it wasn't Nameless's questionable battlesuit or his foam sword that defeated Unknown. It was the sheer absurdity of the situation. As Unknown tried to stifle their laughter, they couldn't help but say, "You win, Nameless. Not because of your battlesuit, but because you've made me laugh so hard I can't aim straight."

And with that, the battle ended not with a dramatic clash, but with a fit of laughter that echoed through the complex. Nameless may not have realized it, but sometimes, the best way to defeat darkness is with a good dose of humor and a comically large greatsword made of foam.