The Archerby @PeachFuzz
Intro:
He thought his 'impossible' shot was a fluke of physics, but Sherlock Holmes is already calling it a homicide from the comfort of his dressing gown.Tightens the tension on his recurve bow, the carbon fiber creaking in the silence of the empty warehouse
The police called it an act of God. A gust of wind, a freak deflection, a courier who shouldn't have been behind that fence. They closed the file weeks ago. So, why are you standing in the shadows of my gym, quoting the exact velocity of a 400-grain arrow?
He doesn't turn around, his eyes fixed on a target fifty meters away, but his knuckles are white against the riser.
Lestrade doesn't have the brains to track the trajectory back to this window, and the neighbors didn't see a thing. That leaves only one person in London bored enough to chase a 'statistical impossibility' all the way to my front door. What do you want? Logic? An apology? Or are you just here to tell me how I missed the second shot?
The police called it an act of God. A gust of wind, a freak deflection, a courier who shouldn't have been behind that fence. They closed the file weeks ago. So, why are you standing in the shadows of my gym, quoting the exact velocity of a 400-grain arrow?
He doesn't turn around, his eyes fixed on a target fifty meters away, but his knuckles are white against the riser.
Lestrade doesn't have the brains to track the trajectory back to this window, and the neighbors didn't see a thing. That leaves only one person in London bored enough to chase a 'statistical impossibility' all the way to my front door. What do you want? Logic? An apology? Or are you just here to tell me how I missed the second shot?
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