Blackstone Gun Range Novels & Stories

< Nah bro, not tonight > Emmett sent a mock sticker before pocketing his phone. [ The Shooting Range ] The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and the sound of muffled gunfire echoed off the walls. The shooting range was painted in matte black and gold, fluorescent lights flickered above, seperated by bulletproof partitions. In the middle of the building, there were several human-shaped targets hung motionless, some riddled with holes others not destroyed yet. The shooter fired another bullet destroying another target completely. He had earplugs and tactical goggles on as he kept on firing targets.

Founder and CEO of Wolfguard. Private security for the untraceable elite. Ghost in human form. He stood at the edge of the shooting range built into the private facility's underground level, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, black tactical gear hugging his frame. The scent of oil and gunpowder hung heavy in the air, but his breathing was steady. Controlled. A target slid down the lane. Ten meters. Moving. Marked for headshots. He fired three times. All hits. None clean. He lowered the weapon. Not good enough.

Itsuki teased, which made Mariko glare at him. If looks could kill, he’s probably dead on the spot. Itsuki turned his gaze away from her, and whistle as if nothing happens. While Marcus looked at the two people in front of him, oblivious to what is happening in his surroundings. He was busy thinking of the pointers Mariko gave them earlier, as he wanted to remember all of it in his head. He didn’t even notice that they already arrived at the shooting range. Marcus gasped as he was amazed, at seeing different types of guns, hung on the wall. Some of them were in the closed bullet-proof glass cabinet, placed in order according to their styles from the smallest guns, to the biggest ones. On the

“You can start.” “Wait.” Deacon suddenly said, “I’d like to shoot from a longer range of a hundred yards!” Iris was astonished to hear that. They were using Type 54 pistols for the competition, and it only had an approximate 50-yard range. Most stationary shooting had a range of 25 yards maximum. If they made the shots from 50 yards away, they might be able to hit one bullseye every five shots. Anyone with this result would be considered a sharpshooter in the military.

“The first game is going to test your range! For each foot you shoot you’ll get 20 points. Our record is 8 feet 5 inches.” Bambi moved forward towards Joe who was first in the line, Joe swallowed as Bambi stroked her soft hand down across Joe’s chest right the way down till she grabbed hold of his cock. Joe gave a slight moan as the sexy co-host squeezed his cock and turned back towards Kent. “Now Kent, when you say shoot, do you mean with these guns?” she asked him, stroking Joe’s cock. If he hadn’t been sitting down Joe was sure he would have fainted in excitement.

Zane loads his sidearm and holsters it again. “Well we have some time, it’s only 09:00. Want to hit the shooting range? It’s only down the hall on the door to the right.” Daniels informed him. Zane thought about it for ten seconds and said, “Sure, why not let me chamber four more magazines.” He went over to the ammunition and chambered four more magazines. Daniels did the same, then they proceeded down a hallway into a shooting range which was large. There are ten booths to shoot from and fresh targets at the end of all of them and shells were littered around the booths. Ear muffs were on all the booths. Daniels and Zane take a booth and a target next to each other.

I hissed. "Prove it," Yuri challenged, gesturing toward the private glass-walled range at the back of the armory. He picked up a customized Glock 19, its slide ported to reduce recoil. "A moving target at fifty meters. If you can't hit the vitals three times in five seconds, you get a taser and a bodyguard. Nothing more." He didn't wait for my answer. He stepped into the booth, leveled the weapon, and fired. Pop-pop-pop. Three holes appeared in the center of a swaying silhouette. He cleared the chamber and handed the weapon to me, a smug, cold curve to his lips.

Instructor Bette handed Lancelot the rifle and explained, “This is the Alliance’s Black Hawk assault rifle. It has an overall length of 988 millimeters, with a barrel length of 512 millimeters, eight right-hand rifling grooves, and uses the Alliance-standard 6.32mm caliber rifle rounds. The standard magazine holds 35 rounds. It’s highly accurate, with an effective range of about 700 meters. The recoil is moderate, and with your physique, you should have no problem handling it with one hand.” Lancelot, feeling the weight of the Black Hawk rifle, walked to the firing position. Of course, he knew how to use firearms. In his past life, despite his youth and frailty, his superb marksmanship had e

All the ladies had bows, knives and camo gear. "Does the Audubon Society know about this? I'm pretty sure the World Wildlife Fund would have a freaking stroke," I nodded. "Ladies at Havenstone have a passion for killing things," Buffy measured me. "I thought you might want to know." "Why do you use bows?" I questioned. "Don't your boobs get in the way?" Buffy smacked me in the chest - hard. I could have blocked. That would have been counterproductive. No, I grabbed her right boob and gave it a strong squeeze. In retaliation, she hit me again. I grabbed her boob. This went on until we entered the garage. She got in the last hit.

Goddamit. I need to purge this feeling. So I went to the only place that'll return my sanity — the shooting range. Caden’s grandfather had built a shooting range underground with a standard soundproof system. Every bodyguard before me had used it. Well, his bodyguards. Caden didn't have any until now. I geared up and swiped a gun from the counter not caring who it belonged to. I needed to purge something. I cocked my gun and aimed. BAM! BAM! BAM!