Angel With A Shotgun Song Novels & Stories

A low evident sound of a bullet fired from a gun with a silencer, sounded and Angel jerked back. Hot pain shot through him as a bullet pierced through his right shoulder. He grunted, steadying himself on his feet, he balled his fist and hunched his back ready to attack and shield Nadia with his body. "One tiny movement and the next one goes through your skull. Get down on your knees and place your hands over your head now!" the one to the left said through gritted teeth. Angel paused, darting his eyes from one to the other. They all wore black getups with masks and seemed experts in military tactics. The one who told him to get on his knees, corked his shotgun and pointed it at Angel's head,

Each note became a shared confession, a language of its own, expressing what words often failed to convey. I was the angel that fell in love with the devil. But could the devil fall in love with the angel? I leaned back, a drink in my hand, the ice clinking as I took a slow sip. The sting of the whiskey slid down my throat, and I set the glass down on the table. My eyes scanned the room, taking in each of my men, my team, my family. "We're not getting ambushed again," I stated. "Let's go over the plan once again and make sure every detail is accounted for."

We started talking about business but at roughly 1 30 am we heard footsteps. And humming. And a sudden burst of singing that made Angelo jump. 'MARY HAD A GUN GUN GUN GUN GUN GUN GUN GUN GUN. A SEXY AK 47. AND EVERYWHERE THAT MARY WENT MARY WENT MARY WENT THE GUN WAS SURE TO GO. IT WILL MAKE EVERYONE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE. IT WAS A GUN OF MURDER.' A song in the same tune of Mary had a little lamb.

Angel stopped playing her violin and immediately met Gamma's sharp eyes. "What's bothering you? Bach's Chaconne should bring a feeling of adoration, a memory of a beloved wife, its strains can bring us to remember the true love of two human children. But what I hear from your playing now is a sad and painful heartache, completely different from your play yesterday." Gamma stood in front of Angel, glared intently at Angel who was silent, then stretched out his fingers and grabbed Angel's chin who was lowered. "What's bothering you, Angel?" Angel turned her face, removed herself from Gamma's fingers on her chin, "No … it's nothing, I'm sorry, I think I'm just tired."

It took her a few seconds to slide it backward, I’m guessing she was readying herself to now hold a loaded, ready to fire gun in her hands. “You’re doing great, Angel” I whispered encouragingly. “Now the real practice starts” I added gently. “The real practice would be me fighting myself not to shoot you if you keep calling me that” she muttered under her breath. I chuckled and said playfully as I opened my arms wide in an invitation “It would be an honor to be shot and die by an angel like you….. Angel”

The deep strict husky voice instantly broke Angela’s trance. Because It was not Gideon but Wrath.

But I know you care Bring it over to my place You don't know what you did, did to me Your body language speaks to me I don't know what you did, did to me Your body language speaks to me🎵 🎵I can make it hurricane on it Hunnid bands, make it rain on it Tie it up, put a chain on it Make you tattoo my name on it, oh Make you cry like a baby, yeah Let's GoPro and make a video, yeah Make you cry like a baby, yeah Let's GoPro and make a video Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah..🎵 She followed the rhythm of the music thrusting the huge shaft in and out. Antonio hissed. His hand right dug into her dark hair. Suddenly Angela pulled her face out and threw herself convulsively onto her seat as her Orgasm hit

Angelia dared not speak, her voice silenced by the fear that constricted her throat. All she could do was keep her eyes wide, silently observing the few men in front of her. As the blood-stained bullet hit the ground with a crisp sound, its echo reverberated within Angelia’s heart for an enduring moment. Gunter must have sensed Angelia’s gaze on him, and he shot her a menacing glare. He clamped the bandage between his teeth and poured medicine on his wounded arm before wrapping it in gauze. Once finished, he carelessly tossed the used bandage aside and fixed his eyes on Angelia, his look as predatory as a vulture eyeing its prey.

Branson was the only one I recognised walking up to the centre microphone with a red guitar in his hands. He smirked at the camera. “This one is called Angelica.” The bassist started strumming and the rest of the group joined in letting their instruments speak to each other until a soft rock beat filled up the room. Then Branson’s surprisingly smooth vocals emerged. ‘Have you seen her? The prettiest girl you’ve ever known Angelica You fill my heart with roses and thorns Can you know her? The most secretive girl you’ve ever known. Angelica Deep down inside I know you feel alone’

"You just shot at me, and for much less, anyone else would be dead. You've been challenging me since the day you arrived and pushing me in the opposite direction of my will, making me change my steps every day to please you. And forgive me if I don't know how to love and if I can never give you what you so need—I'm a demon, Angel, and you knew that from the day I held you in my bloodied arms, stealing you from your wedding. Just as you knew I'd never let you go—we're in this together until death." She swallowed hard, and her hand trembled over mine, showing her walls were crumbling. Angela clenched her jaw and placed her other trembling hand on my chest. "Then do it. Pull the trigger and end