21 Shots Book Novels & Stories

he says, his voice like gravel. My stomach twists. He's right, of course. But where will we find it? Suddenly, he stiffens. Alarm bells go off in my head, and I tense. "What?" I whisper. Instead of answering, he pushes me behind a tree. We crouch there in the snow as a handful of people dressed in long, black trench coats walk down the sidewalk. My fingers curl into the trunk's bark. Silver Hunters. I guarantee that under each of those coats they have swords.

Cold, black blood sprayed out, but I was already finished firing my gun which is in my left hand, to another monster before the first corpse fell. The field was thick with beasts, the air alive and hellish with their screams. A shadow darted behind me. I turned just in time to parry the slash of a cleaver. I barely registered my opponent-male, shirtless, whiter than snow and drenched in blood-before counterattacking. I nocked my gun on his head then pull the trigger. The monster fell to the ground with a wet smack. "In coming!" I yelled, but even though I screamed at the top of my lungs, I knew the others hadn't heard.

The others followed suit, their movements synchronized as if they had done this many times before. Amethyst watched in horror as they prepared, her body still pinned against the old textbooks by the first man who had entered. She felt the weight of their gazes upon her, each pair of eyes hungry and merciless. "Please, stop," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of rustling plastic.

I take a deep breath , breathing in the various scents of disappointment , anger , death and smoke. “Sire…” a soldier calls out to me , before handing me a bow and arrow. By the smell of it , I can tell that the arrow head is thoroughly soaked with oil making the next action satisfying and pleasing to watch. The same soldier lights the head on fire with his lit torch – the head explodes alive , promising to burn everything it touches to the ground. I hear explosions of others as the soldiers standing besides me copy my actions and await my order. Before I could draw my arrow back , I bring the burning head to my mouth , lighting my unlit cigar with it’s flame. After puffing the cigar smoke ,

he said with a smirk. I grumbled and went to the bookshelf. There were like thousands of books there, and I spent a good thirty minutes arranging them. Those thirty minutes were stressful, to say the least. "I'm done," I sighed in relief. "You're done?" the young man asked. "Yes, so is my admission safe?" I responded. "Not yet," he replied. "What do you mean by that?!" I yelled in frustration. "Don't shout, just do one more thing," he said calmly.