Blackstone Gun Range Novels & Stories

“This’ll do.” Tony, ever the opportunist, leaned over the table, picking up a rifle and grinning like a kid in a candy store. “This beauty,” he said, admiring the matte-black finish, “looks like it’s ready to cause some serious damage. What’s the range on this?” Dimitri smirked. “Up to 800 yards, depending on the shooter. But for you, Tony? Maybe 300.” The room erupted in laughter. Tony shook his head, not even offended. “You wound me, Dimitri. But we’ll see who’s laughing when I take down three guys in one shot.”

She said while adjusting my posture and making sure that I maintain a solid stand. We spent nearly three hours in the room. Ciara told me that is just a basic introduction. The gun we used is a pistol but I still need to practice different kinds of guns, just in case. I tried to offer to pay for our lunch but Ciara said that it is already covered in the restaurant in front of the shooting range building. The owner is an affiliate of Blake. We took our late lunch while Ciara discuss our next itinerary for today. “We’ll meet a martial artist next. You can choose what kind you would like to take first, but you will learn at least three types.” My face scrunched at the thought and she laughed.

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

“You’re stronger than you think.” “Not strong enough,” she whispered. “Not yet.” --- That afternoon, Rafael took her to the range. It was an underground facility, hidden beneath a nondescript building. The air smelled of gunpowder and oil. He handed her a matte-black Glock, adjusted her stance, pressed his chest to her back as he helped her aim. “Focus,” he murmured, lips brushing her ear. “Breathe. Squeeze. Don’t yank.” The gunshot cracked through the silence.

He didn’t explain where they were going. Just handed Noah a jacket and said, “Come.” Noah followed. Hesitantly. The elevator took them deeper than Noah knew the building even had. Steel doors. Stark lights. Cold walls. "Okay," Noah muttered, adjusting his hoodie. "Definitely not brunch." Lucien said nothing. They entered the private gun range — sleek, clinical, underground. Noah stopped short at the sight of black metal cases and targets lined up like execution walls. Lucien picked a small pistol off the wall, checked it, and held it out.

~~NICCOLÒ~~ I was meant to be at Carlo's office by ten. Instead I was here, pushing everything aside. The private shooting range sat far outside the city limits, hidden behind old concrete walls and empty land where nobody complained about gunfire. It was built for men like me who needed privacy to work through their demons. To hell with my ears. To hell with the pain. To hell with all of it. I raised the gun and fired. The first shot hit dead center. The second. The third. My stance was pure muscle memory, honed by years of relentless practice. I worked through the target, making micro adjustments, grip firm despite the growing pressure in my head.

Then he turned around and led us towards the corridor on the left, all the way to a large, airy space that was decorated with shooting gears and equipment, bright and airy. Her jaw fell open as she saw the array of guns in their different types and sizes, on display at the far end of the wide space, and she swallowed a gulp. “So, like, is this a company owned range or something?” Her curiosity continued, and I smirked, dismissing the man with a nod. “This might come as a surprise to you, Elena,” I started, walking towards the car that was on the left end of the space, “but this range belongs to the GRANT’s empire.

I want to live my life longer. A few minutes later we also got to the back of the house where Chandler took me yesterday to teach about the guns. I scanned the place, just now I saw this outdoor shooting range. "Let's start", Greyson cuts my thought again. I just followed him to a table where handguns were placed including my chosen gun yesterday. "Stewart told me you choose this Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum", he said as he picked up the gun on the table and loaded with magazine. "Use your hearing protection and protective eyewear." He instructed me while wearing his. I started putting all the protection needed and look at the target in front of us. I have trained eyes and I stare at the bull

Hound countered. “And what does that mean?” “He’s part of an organization that sells information for profit,” Hound explained. “They’ve been watching me for a while now. Leaving him alive isn’t an option.” Emily’s voice softened, her tone pleading. “There has to be another way.” Hound ignored her as they took a sharp turn, arriving at Blackstone, a renowned store for battle wear, weapons, and ether-infused gear. Two guards in rare, glimmering armor flanked the entrance, nodding to Hound as he passed.