21 Shots Book Novels & Stories

Part One: Body Check Matt Vorchak finished cleaning out the rest of the stuff from his locker and zipped up the duffel he'd brought with him. Then he sat on the bench for a long minute just looking around. A combination of exhilaration, sadness and rage bubbled inside him. The excitement of winning The Cup didn't completely soften the fact that this was probably the last time he'd be doing this, and it was a bitter pill to swallow. He'd given his life to the game, in more ways than one, and he had been struck with a single purpose in life. But Fate had apparently decided he'd had too much fun and given him the finger big time.

Exhaustion is taking over, and I am having trouble keeping my eyes open. Right before my eyes close, the last thing I see is Braxius's blue-green eyes filled with love and sorrow. Except, I somehow know everything will be all right with him. That only thought is making my leaving easier, and I stop fighting the darkness. I am floating away towards total oblivion. I am having a few brief flashbacks of my short life of twenty-two years and growing up in New Jersey with Meena, my younger sister of nine months. I accepted my entry-level position at a prestigious marketing firm and graduating from college with honors as a business major with a minor in history.

Am I going to die? "Seems as though you find the bookshelf to be a world full of chocolates and cakes, no?" His voice continued, sinister. I turned around, blanketing my nervousness and caution towards him. He took a step towards me and I felt myself shift back. I was scared and I couldn't deny that. Somehow, I could tell he knew I saw the gun, his eyes seemed even darker. "S-" I couldn't get my words together, even my nerves weren't working at this point.

Time slows as Wren tries to shoot me again, only to scream in pain as a bullet pierces her hand, causing her to drop her gun. My dad's face darkens, and he raises his gun. “No!” I cry out. The guards open fire. Bullets tear through the room. Blood splashes warm across my face. My father jerks violently as bullets punch through him. Wren collapses beside him, her scream cut off. They hit the floor with a sickening thud. I stand frozen. Tears stream down my face, but I don’t move. My body refuses to respond. Their blood pools around them, staining the floor, thick and red and endless. Their eyes, lifeless stare into nothing.

"Keep it steady!" I regained my footing between the bags, aimed, then took another two shots. One hit his upper arm, the other his shoulder, but he kept coming, unfazed by the gushing holes. I shifted my weight onto my other foot and grinned. I might not have stopped him, but the Thornblood dipped bullets had punctured him, binding shade and host to the same satisfying fate. I fired one last time, hitting him strait between his soulless eyes.

I saw Andrew and Josh not far from us, I shoot the guy who was aiming Wayne and killed him. "Come on! Hurry!" Josh yelled which made us ran faster "Inka! Duck!" I heard Wayne exclaimed that made me looked back and ducked my head fast as I saw something shiny that was supposed to hit me. I dodged the attacks that were on me and killed them fastly. "Read is also coming," Wayne added as we reached Andrew and Josh I saw our jetski and nodded. I took the smoke bomb on my thigh and looked at Read. He was running while shooting everyone who goes on his way, he breathing hard, holding a gun on each of his hands. His eyes were burning in rage, his suit jacket is nowhere to be found while his black po

She went back to filing up her nails, she was tired of talking about the past. "Hey, boy, end his miserable life and throw him away." Thaur gestured to one of his men and the man was quick to remove his revolver from around his waist and shoot the man dead without any hesitation for he's done that countless of times. Three men took his body that night and threw him near a big public dustbin where he will be seen. They don't care whether they were found or not, no one will know he was even shot dead because the revolver's bullet don't leave any scar of way to show that it was a gun. No normal person will understand that and even if the police sees it, they know it it from someone powerful so

The night’s black cloak was ripped apart by the relentless fury of battle. Jagged bolts of flame erupted from crude bombs, igniting thick underbrush and sending towering infernos curling toward the darkened sky. The forest echoed with the sharp staccato of gunfire, rifles barking from concealed nests, punctuated now and then by the harsh crack of pistol shots in close quarters.

My hands start shaking when his hand grabs my arm, but I quickly move my arm away from his grip. “What are you doing here?” I ask, but he looks nervous, and he looks like one of the catering staff. “Did Pamela get you in here? James, you don’t have to do this,” I say, but he ignores my pleas and wraps his hand around my arm, and I feel something cold against my beer back. He pulls me closer to his body, and I realize he is pointing a gun at my back. “You are going to leave with me without making a fuss, you are going to get in the car, or I swear to god that I will end him,” James says, and I nod, not being able to let out another word.

The pins fell one after the other, but the slight delay between their shots made all the difference. Then it was our turn. Jacob took his shots first, his form flawless and radiated confidence. His shots were swift, the rhythm almost musical. The gun recoiled smoothly in his hands, the bullets hitting the targets dead center with a swift precision that was breathtaking. As I stepped forward, I felt the weight of their expectant gazes. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I remembered Jacob's instructions and Tony's training. I raised the gun, aimed, and fired. My shots echoed Jacob's rhythm, the pins falling one after the other, our combined speed and accuracy surpassing the other teams.