The Bow

Prologue

Chapter One

Two Weeks Later

There was no way to describe the pain Quinn was feeling. Family and friends showered her with support, but their words only caused Quinn to feel emptier.

Adam was the only family she had besides her Aunt and Uncle. Her parents had passed away in an accident; she barely even remembered them. The memories of her parents were fuzzy at best; it was almost as if they never existed.

However despite the sadness, the emptiness and the heartbreak she felt, Quinn knew she had a job to do. Somebody had fired the bow that killed Adam; and she knew finding out who, or why would not be simple. She realized how hard it would be; the bow could strike at any time once fired.

“Quinn, you have to let this go” Callie’s voice interrupted the flying thoughts Quinn had running through her head.

“Cal, how am I supposed to let this go? Somebody murdered my fiancée” Quinn spat angrily. Callie had tried desperately to convince Quinn to stop thinking about the bow; about the suspicious circumstances of the death of her fiancée. But it was no use; Quinn would not listen to reason; she would not let it go.

“Simple, just mourn like a normal person” Callie retorted back cold heartedly.

“Callie” Quinn began, getting up from the black, leather couch in her living room and began to pace around the room. “I shot that bow too; I’ve killed someone. I want to know who killed Adam and why; after all, the-”

“I know Quinn, the person who shoots the bow kills the person who is destined to kill them before they have the chance” Callie replied back robotically, rolling her eyes. She sat on the chair adjacent to where Quinn had sat just moments ago. “I’ve heard enough about this stupid goddamn bow... do you ever think of anything else?” her voice rose in volume.

Quinn rolled her eyes, tired of Callie undermining the importance and significance of the bow, and its origins.

“Of course I do!” Quinn shouted back angrily. “Wouldn’t you want to know who killed your husband? Wouldn’t you want to know the reason why your husband was destined to kill somebody? Wouldn’t you-”

“Enough Quinn” Callie interrupted, getting up from the couch so the pair stood face to face in an intense stare down. “Drop it. Forget about the bow. I know it’s hard not knowing who killed him but you cannot let this control your life; you’ve let it consume you for years now” she spoke a little softer.

“I can’t do that” Quinn shook her head immediately. “So it’s either you help, or I’m doing this on my own” Quinn proposed.

“I’m sorry Quinn, I can’t help you” Callie relied softly.

“Fine” Quinn answered back through gritted teeth. “I’m doing this on my own then”

Callie sighed, placing a hand on her best friend’s shoulder in support. She knew Quinn was stubborn; she knew there was no way she was going to let this go without finding the information she was seeking.

“Good luck” Callie whispered, giving a small smile before she showed herself out of Quinn’s small townhouse. Upon hearing the door close, Quinn let out the breath she did not realize she was holding. Immediately, she headed for her bedroom, where the note she had received all those years ago sat in its original envelope.

The one secret she kept from Adam was the firing of the bow on her eighteenth birthday. Besides herself and the man who had given her the note, Callie was the only one who knew; not that anybody would believe her otherwise. Quinn quickly asserted finding the man who had given her the note originally would be the only way she would find out who had fired the bow, when they did so, and of course most importantly, why.

Please meet me at the big rock by the creek. You know the one close to your house. 2pm. Do not, under any circumstances be late. This is very important. See you then.

Even all these years later, Quinn still had no idea where to start. She regretted not getting his name; or any other information about him. She simply remembered his appearance; tall, handsome, with the deepest brown eyes Quinn had ever seen. Even with that knowledge, it was so many years ago; how was she supposed to recognize him?

She inspected the envelope, something, she realized, she neglected to do upon receiving the letter; she was too busy analyzing the cryptic message within. Of course, much to her dismay, there was no return address. The writing on the envelope matched the writing on the note she noted with a grimace.

Yawning, she realized she wasn’t going to get anywhere tonight; she was exhausted from days without sleep. Not having had a regular sleep since the day before her wedding, it was beginning to take its toll on her.

Climbing into the bed she and Adam had shared, she pulled the blankets gently over her, eyes tearing up slightly. Luckily for her, sleep seemed to overtake her quickly for the first time in weeks.

“Quinn, it’s nice to see you again”

Quinn looked around, the scene before her becoming eerily familiar. She looked around, realizing it was the place she had shot the bow all those years ago. It was hard to forget; Quinn had spent most of her twenties trying to forget the awful memory that haunted her.

“It’s- it’s you” Quinn stuttered, confused.

“Haven’t you always wondered how you’d find out if your target was hit?” the man asked, peeking Quinn’s interest. He took a seat on the stump next to the rock Quinn sat on.

“Well- uh, obviously, yeah” Quinn spoke as calmly as she could. Her palms began to sweat, her heart racing faster than any time she could even remember; who had she shot?

“Remember sending the letter to the next in line?” the man asked, curiously.

“Yeah... I do” Quinn whispered, remembering the day she sent the bow off.

Meet me at the cabin after dark This is extremely important, don’t Be late. Come alone.

Quinn walked calmly towards the logged cabin. It was a cool, crisp fall evening; the sun had just set emerging the city into darkness. She carried the bow in her hand, arrows strapped to her back. The leaves crunched beneath her feet as she approached her destination.

“I’m glad you can follow instructions” Quinn spoke to the young man, who eyed her nervously. It created kind of a Deja-vu moment for Quinn; just barely months ago she was at the receiving end of this arrangement.

“Is that the mystic bow?” the man asked, eyes widening with brief surprise, before terror took over. “Oh my god” he whispered, realizing what had to be done. Quinn frowned, not wanting this to continue. She knew how much shooting the bow had haunted her over the past few months. The dreams never stopped; the paranoia sometimes taking control.

“I’m sorry, I have no choice” Quinn answered back, handing the man the bow, unstrapping the arrows and setting them on the ground next to the pair. “I really don’t want to do this; but you know I have no choice” she spoke softly.

“I know the stories” the man sighed heavily. “There’s so many questions I have for you” he added, biting his lip; would she know more than he? They said there was a book; a book that explained everything you needed to know about the bow. Unfortunately for the pair, the book was extremely rare, and had not been seen in decades.

“I’m afraid I don’t have many answers” Quinn replied honestly. “I probably know just as much as you do when it comes to this bow” she added with a small frown.

“So I have a year to shoot it and pass it on to somebody else, right?” the man confirmed what he was to do. Quinn nodded solemnly.

“You can shoot it now, or you can wait; it’s up to you” Quinn instructed.

“When did you shoot it?” the man asked curiously.

“Right away” Quinn whispered, remembering the day clearly. “I didn’t want to put it off” she recalled how nervous she felt upon receiving the bow.

“How do I know when to pass it on?” the man asked, sighing, finally accepting the situation. He knew he did not want to have to shoot the bow; but the consequences were dire if he did not. “And when will my target be hit?” he asked just as many questions as Quinn had.

“You’ll know when to pass it on” Quinn spoke robotically. It had been just one week since she shot the bow when she got the message. It came to her in a dream; a reoccurring dream. Unsure if it was the sign she was looking for, she took the plunge and decided to pursue what the dream was telling her, leading her to this moment.

“And my target?”

“It can strike at any time” Quinn told him softly.

“Well, your target has been hit” the words brought no comfort to Quinn; only more nerves. “Not long ago” he continued.

“And? Who was it? Who did I kill?”

Nothing could have prepared her for the answer she was going to receive.

“Name was Adam; Adam Farley” Quinn almost fainted; her eyes growing wide with terror.

“Oh no” she shook her head in disbelief. “No, no, no, no” she repeated the words, as if speaking them over and over would change the fact she had killed her fiancée; it was her arrow that pierced through Adam two weeks ago.

“I don’t know what the big deal is, you knew it was going to happen sometime” the man spoke, confused. He had explained everything all those years ago to her; why was she reacting this way? She knew what she was getting herself into the moment she was handed the bow.

“That was- I mean I...” Quinn trailed off, unsure of how to explain the complication of the situation; she murdered her own fiancée. “He is- I mean he was, my fiancée” she whispered, tears stinging the back of her eyes. “I killed my own fiancée”

The man remained silent; he was not expecting to hear that.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry” the man apologized, feeling genuinely bad for the young girl; until a realization hit him. “But if I were you, I’d be more concerned about something else right now”

“What are you talking about?” Quinn asked, wiping the tears off of her cheeks. She sat on the rock, her legs brought up to her chest, clutched tightly by her shaking arms. She was going to have to live the rest of her life knowing she killed the love of her life; what else was there to be concerned about?

Quinn was unsure how she was going to process this information; did she tell the police? No, she couldn’t; they would never believe her story; hell, she didn’t want to believe her story.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” the man spoke up loudly.

“The least bit curious of what?” Quinn spat back, angry. She wasn’t angry with the man in front of her; she was angry with herself. “I killed my fiancée; how the hell am I supposed to live with the fact I killed my own fiancée?” she sobbed.

The man eyed her sympathetically before speaking.

“Aren’t you even remotely curious as to why he was destined to kill you in the first place?”

Chapter Three —-> here