Black Rock Shooter Novels & Stories

I howled, rage igniting through panic, my fingernails clawing into someone’s arm, biting down when I felt leather and flesh under my teeth. Another car screeched to a halt. For a heartbeat, the whole world froze. The driver’s side opened. A pair of polished black shoes stepped out. And then— “Zenya?” I barely recognized him, dressed in full black, hair damp, eyes unreadable behind that calm, glacial stare. He didn’t say a word. He just reached into his coat, pulled out his gun, and started shooting. One. Two. Three. Each shot a perfect execution. No hesitation.

She dropped it and picked up a fallen spear. Blackrock rolled stones down cliffs. Not big ones. Just big enough. Raghav, 70 years old, pushed the first stone himself. Watched it crush 2 raiders. “For my brother,” he whispered. And in the center, Vikram fought. Not as Alpha giving orders. As one wolf in the line. He killed a Frostfang raider, turned, and found himself back-to-back with a Nightclaw wolf he’d never met. “Left side,” Vikram said.

His pulse matched the rhythm of the tires on wet asphalt. He knew the BlackRock Boys. He knew how they worked. They didn’t send warnings for fun. A photo meant eyes were already on her. His jaw clenched, knuckles whitening on the wheel. If they’ve got a problem with me, then come for me — not her. Never her. The city blurred past in streaks of rain and neon. He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts sharp and cold. The BlackRocks were unpredictable — the kind who smiled while setting traps.

“Six…” She holds her hand in front of him. “Five…”. She pleaded, “Please Ryan…Don’t!!!...”. “Four…”. Her eyes widened. “Three…”. She takes a step forward. “Two…”. She holds him. “One…”. She pushed him aside. …!!!!.BANG!!!... A gunshot echoed in the surrounding. When Ryan turns to look at Tara, he gets numb. She was covered in blood. Tara takes a bullet on herself… To save her Ruthless Rockstar…! ***************************

It takes them just a few seconds before they reach the girls. Grasping the group of men who surround the four girls. One by one, the men are gripped by their shirt and thrown across the earthed ground. Inexplicably three of the girls hold each other tightly to protect each other. But the beautiful figure of a long black haired girl with gray eyes stands frozen in place. She views in wonder how easily the two take on the group of men. She looks towards the right realizing one of the men holds a riffle and she runs, pulling the trigger upwards making the man miss his target from firing at Ty.

Once again, the zeal to survive was in him, roaring like a fearless lion. He fixed his gaze at the direction of the path to Igweka-ala’s shrine and pulled his legs. He ran a short distance and took shelter behind another tree. He was a few strides away from the shrine, and he could see the forest vividly. The old man’s location was unknown to him, and he could only hear the sound of feet scrubbing against leaves. He sighted a stone, raised it, aimed, and fired. The scrubbing feet stopped, and the restless noise slowed and died down. He reached forward and grabbed another stone. He aimed and fired. A loud rumble followed, and abruptly ended.

I just sat there, with my knees to my chest shaking my head. “NEMI!” I heard Talia shout. I didn’t even have the energy to warn her. She stopped in her tracks as she saw Namhaid. “What are you doing here?” She demanded. “Ahh, Talia! Not as rude as your brother, I see. Have we been teaching the little human how to play with fire?” Namhaid asked her, his eyes never leaving me. “YOU NEED TO LEAVE.” Talia commanded. He shook his head. “There’s no way I’m leaving her alone with you lot.” He spat. I finally found the energy to stand up, and started walking towards the house. “Leave. Leave while you still can.” I heard a familiar voice coming from the front of the garden, followed by a shotgun bein

I mutter, hatred still flowing through my veins instead of blood. I wrap the garrotte wire tighter across my hands, getting into stance as my eyes follow a subtle movement from the bushes. The signal is a howl from Ryker. Ragnar has us all briefed. My hands are covered in a pair of knuckle dusters. I had my leather jacket over my gear, which was actually a crop top and slick black pants that allowed me to move around, a utility belt with a series of knives strapped to it, and military boots. A howl sounds some distance in the front, just at the same time a group of rogues leap out of the bushes.

Blake’s dark thick hair was soaking wet from the rain. He was wearing a dark trench coat, black slacks, and black boots. Everyone was flabbergasted, especially Brock. He had gone pale. “Hey, big brother,” Blake said as he walked towards them with his gun up. “Why don’t you slowly take that gun out of your pocket?” Everyone looked at Brock. Brock’s cheeks started glowing red. “Do it, Brock, or I’m going to plug one in Lexi right in front of you,” Blake said and pointed the gun at Lexi. “I’ll shoot her way before you can stop me.”

Krister asked, looking at his tablet still before walking to the back room. “Black? She doesn’t-- I mean didn’t wear anything else?” she asked, her eyebrows meeting in the middle confused. “Don’t tell me she’s one of those people…” “Yes, specifically black clothing. They’re hot in the day but you disappear in the night. That’s what she always said to me.” Krister disappeared in the back to get something whilst Rojean was left there to contemplate on her own how she was going to pull the act off if she was a bad liar herself.