The vision in my right eye is distorted. I think the shock wave of the bullet just inches in front of it is warping its shape.
I can feel panic rising. The bullet has past my face, heading towards the one I love. I can't react fast enough once I restart time to do anything about it. The reflex to stop time only happened when the sound triggered my ears. By that point it was already passing me.
The sharpest reflexes of a human are around 0.15 of a second. By the time the impulse to do anything reaches my muscles, the bullet will be 400 feet further away.
Well, more precisely it will be 17 feet and 6 inches away. In my husbands chest.
Even if I could catch the bullet midair, it would punch through my flesh and out the other side, still hitting him. Those things contain a lot of energy.
My point of view is fixed but my left eye's vision is crystal clear. The nearest object that might stop the bullet is probably going to have to be steel and more than a quarter inch thick. I can only see one thing that might do it. The gun that fired it. A pistol. Lots of computer games versed me in at least the vague idea of what type it is. 1911 pattern Colt. Who even has a pistol like that in Britain these days? Police? Gangmembers? Oh! There...I cant change the focus of my eye at all but I can vaguely make out the man with the gun is wearing a bullet proof vest on under his jacket. He doesn't look like a cop for sure.
Back to the problem. That apparently has no solution. Can't move fast enough to stop the bullet. It looks like its aimed to hit him in the chest. Probably near the heart. That's going to be fatal. Damn it! There's nothing I can do except let him die! I rail against my power, trying to flex it, stretch its capability. Somehow do that thing they do in movies and perform an impossible task at the last moment. Nothing happens. For what to me is days I strive to act. Do my absolute damndest to move while keeping the rest of the universe still. Nada. I'm left to my failure before he has even died. Maybe...just maybe...with my timestop ability I can get revenge on the man with the gun before he shoots me too.
I cant even cry. I cant sigh or sob. My emotions refuse to change because my body is trapped in a moment of time and emotion is based on chemistry, which isnt changing. I have to let him die. But I will kill the bastard for doing it.
Time released, muscles already primed to do each action. I freeze time every few tenths of a second to adjust, to plan every move. I shift weight, throw myself forwards, freeze time in slices while maintaining my line of sight so I can't be caught off guard. His face is frozen in startlement as I rise up and dismantle the gun in his hand with precise motions.
Then I realise. Even as I put him down, cracking his skull with the butt of his own gun, that he isn't looking at me. The thing he fears is behind me.
​
I turn. I freeze the moment. See the bullet that hit my husband, squashed flat and pinging away from his skin as he transforms. My husband, shape twisting and stretching, becoming the villian, Blood Ogre.
UnlikelyStories t1_j1sy5rp wrote
Reply to [WP] You have the peculiar ability to pause time. Nothing can move, including yourself, meaning all you get is time to think. Today you find yourself paused with a bullet right in front of your eyes. by Votbear
The vision in my right eye is distorted. I think the shock wave of the bullet just inches in front of it is warping its shape.
I can feel panic rising. The bullet has past my face, heading towards the one I love. I can't react fast enough once I restart time to do anything about it. The reflex to stop time only happened when the sound triggered my ears. By that point it was already passing me.
The sharpest reflexes of a human are around 0.15 of a second. By the time the impulse to do anything reaches my muscles, the bullet will be 400 feet further away.
Well, more precisely it will be 17 feet and 6 inches away. In my husbands chest.
Even if I could catch the bullet midair, it would punch through my flesh and out the other side, still hitting him. Those things contain a lot of energy.
My point of view is fixed but my left eye's vision is crystal clear. The nearest object that might stop the bullet is probably going to have to be steel and more than a quarter inch thick. I can only see one thing that might do it. The gun that fired it. A pistol. Lots of computer games versed me in at least the vague idea of what type it is. 1911 pattern Colt. Who even has a pistol like that in Britain these days? Police? Gangmembers? Oh! There...I cant change the focus of my eye at all but I can vaguely make out the man with the gun is wearing a bullet proof vest on under his jacket. He doesn't look like a cop for sure.
Back to the problem. That apparently has no solution. Can't move fast enough to stop the bullet. It looks like its aimed to hit him in the chest. Probably near the heart. That's going to be fatal. Damn it! There's nothing I can do except let him die! I rail against my power, trying to flex it, stretch its capability. Somehow do that thing they do in movies and perform an impossible task at the last moment. Nothing happens. For what to me is days I strive to act. Do my absolute damndest to move while keeping the rest of the universe still. Nada. I'm left to my failure before he has even died. Maybe...just maybe...with my timestop ability I can get revenge on the man with the gun before he shoots me too.
I cant even cry. I cant sigh or sob. My emotions refuse to change because my body is trapped in a moment of time and emotion is based on chemistry, which isnt changing. I have to let him die. But I will kill the bastard for doing it.
Time released, muscles already primed to do each action. I freeze time every few tenths of a second to adjust, to plan every move. I shift weight, throw myself forwards, freeze time in slices while maintaining my line of sight so I can't be caught off guard. His face is frozen in startlement as I rise up and dismantle the gun in his hand with precise motions.
Then I realise. Even as I put him down, cracking his skull with the butt of his own gun, that he isn't looking at me. The thing he fears is behind me.
​
I turn. I freeze the moment. See the bullet that hit my husband, squashed flat and pinging away from his skin as he transforms. My husband, shape twisting and stretching, becoming the villian, Blood Ogre.