Blade And Bullet Blind Novels & Stories

He returned with a tilt of his head and a short sign: one man, still, watching. The blind was a box of dull fabric strung clever between trunks. Camo netting stretched over it like a spider had been hired and paid extra for discretion. Through the slit we saw the rifle’s long mouth and the eyepiece of a scope glint once, twice, the way a fish does when it decides a hook is gossip, not danger. The man behind the gun wasn’t movie-mean. Thirty-five maybe, clean jaw, the kind of careful a father learns when he has to re-lace shoes while someone is crying. He had the wrong smell—all soap and blocker and solvent—but his hands were steady, and he had the patience of a stone. Lyra’s mouth went thin.

Blaze and his warriors went to Collins' pack to see the dead body and plan an immediate response to what's happening. "Alpha Blaze," Andrew Collins called, the Alpha of the Collins' pack. "Do you want to see the body now?" he asked. Blaze nodded his head and followed Andrew outside. They went to the pack's morgue and saw the body covered with a white cloth. Blaze slowly approached it and removed the fabric. "We found three silver bullets in his body. He also has fresh scars maybe after the hunter shot him some rouges attacked him," Alpha Collins said. Blaze returned the cloth to his body and clenched his hand.

It put me in a position where I was an easy target, but I was fresh out of damns. I cut the bike in front of them and left a long kill zone between us. Then I raised the gun and started to work. I shot at the tyres multiple times until the car coughed and hiccuped. Finally, Blayne decided to show his face. Peeping his ugly head through the window, he shot at me, but luck kept me breathing.

"This is a special pistol crafted for people within the department. We call them Extrobullet Guns. They're made from the toughest of alloys, and one clip holds seven special explosive bullets. One bullet is strong enough to blow a hole through an elephant. Wilbur huffed in awe. "This is an Alloy Dagger. It can take five levels of spirit pressure and is good for battling other cultivators." Jasmine took out a dagger and placed it in front of Wilbur. Wilbur had seen this dagger before. It was the same one Ryder used.

Before Esther could speak, Judy eagerly agreed and even hyped it up further: “Blind shooting—ten targets at once. You two use different colored bullets and shoot for one minute!” “Blind shooting it is!” What a joke—Aria was never afraid of anyone. “If Esther’s not scared, why should I be? Let’s get this over with. And if you lose badly, don’t start blaming everything else. Everything’s checked and ready—after this, it’s do or die!” At those words, the venue staff personally checked the targets and equipment with Judy and Claire present. After confirming everything was fine, both teams signed off officially. The crowd recorded the bizarre scene, all waiting for a good show. The event was live

Two blades gleamed in the low light. Shit.

“Baby, I promise you, nothing touches you. I won’t let it. Not ever.” Blade’s gaze flicked back to the darkness. “It’s testing our nerves. It’s trying to see who will break first. Don’t let it.” A faint hiss, like metal scraping stone, cut through the air. The shadow shifted again, just at the edge of sight, almost taunting us with its invisibility. Cruz fired a warning shot, the bullet sparking off the wall. Blade lunged, knife slicing through the empty space where it had been, but it moved with impossible speed, slipping away, unseen.

BLADE 3. Pain. It was all I felt when I shot my eyes opened. I felt so sore and tired. The memories of how Lorenzo plunged deeper into me last night filled my mind. He was so cruel to me. I didn't find any enjoyment in it at all. I tried lifting my hands and I was happy It was back to functioning. My tit hurts too as a result of the sucking he did last night.

“So… pro tip: volunteering smart beats being shoved into ‘One Bullet.’” The stall for ONE BULLET was… unsettling. A single, gleaming pistol rested under a glass dome, spotlit. Next to it, a target that was just a stylized human silhouette. The tagline flashed: ONE SHOT. ONE KILL. ONE WINNER. ALL LOSERS ERASED. My stomach clenched. “No,” I said. “Not that one. Ever.” “Agreed,” Corvin said. He turned slowly, taking in the rest of the menu with narrowed eyes.