Body Shot Novels & Stories

he hissed, reaching into his jacket. The window behind us shattered in an instant—the sharp crack of a silenced bullet slicing through the night. The man slumped forward, blood blooming across his chest like ink spreading across the paper. One shot. Clean. Precise. His body hit the table with a dull thud, and for a moment, everything went still. I stared, frozen in place, watching the life drain from his eyes as he gasped for breath. He tried to say something—a final word—but the sound never came.

Ben whined. “Oh, stop being babies. It’s one shot. It won’t kill you.” “Are you sure?” Baylee asked, standing on her chair to sniff mine. “’Cause this doesn’t seem natural.” “Just drink the damn thing!” Vincent barked. Groaning, we all downed it in one gulp. I nearly vomited it back up but forced it down with a swig of scalding coffee, hoping to burn the taste out of my mouth. “Once you guys get shot, your body will react how it normally would—your heart will stop instantly. You’ll pass out,” Vincent said.

With great force, I push it down, and it both have a grip on it as we struggle between our bodies. Then… One single shot goes off… And my body has gone limp…

He inhaled sharply from the pain and his entire body was shaking. “Friend…please listen to me…” Sheldon whimpered. Bang! Another shot was fired. The shot penetrated Sheldon’s other shoulder.

my lip are shaking, my hands are shaking, tears flowing uncontrollably, my heart aching beyond words,” “Catalina, you need to die with your fiancé,” “Papa d ...” ‘BANG’ I look around my body to see if I’m shot, I hear sometimes you don’t realize you have been shot due to the adrenaline rush or something like that, Stiliyan looks like he had been drained of every drop of blood from his body, as he slowly walked towards Diego dropping his guns, “ Diego! Papa! What the fuck, John,What have you done!! Papa!”

I glanced at him impressed, pissed, proud all at once. The fight ended fast. Five bodies down. Enzo’s team cleared the back. We grabbed the product crates of guns and cash as proof. As we exfilled, sirens wailed in the distance. Back in the SUV, adrenaline still buzzing, I turned to Alessio. Rain streaked the windows, blurring the city lights. “You shot him,” I said. “In the leg,” he replied. “Non-lethal. He’ll live to tell the story.” I studied him. No shake in his hands. No panic in his eyes. Just… resolve.

BANG!!! The sound of gunshots echoed throughout the whole room. My breath hitched, not knowing how to breathe. It was silent. My eyes slowly went towards the body, which fell on the ground with a loud thud. It was none other than father's body. Francesco shot him between the eyes exactly on his temple.

He can just return it, there's no need to kill him over that. The air was filled with the staccato rhythm of gunshots. I inhaled sharply, the sound racketed in my ears. I saw his body collapsing on the floor like it was never alive. Blood. Blood. Blood. So much blood gushed out of the bullet wounds. The men around the body were composed, comfortable as if they have seen a million dead bodies before and I'm sure they had. Craziness and darkness dripped from all of their eyes.

The strong stench of blood was a great discomfort to them. Porter was the first to return to his senses. He quickly ordered, “Prepare the body bags and pack the corpses.” “Yes!” The group nodded and immediately got to work. They took out the thick black body bags from their pockets and started dealing with the bodies. As each body was placed into a body bag, Porter’s shock grew. What shocked him most was not the men with broken limbs, or those who suicided by poison. It was the four martial artists. All four were shot to death. They were hit with many bullets, and their faces were beyond recognizable. It was no exaggeration to say that there were at least thirty to forty bullet holes in each

Part One: Body Check Matt Vorchak finished cleaning out the rest of the stuff from his locker and zipped up the duffel he'd brought with him. Then he sat on the bench for a long minute just looking around. A combination of exhilaration, sadness and rage bubbled inside him. The excitement of winning The Cup didn't completely soften the fact that this was probably the last time he'd be doing this, and it was a bitter pill to swallow. He'd given his life to the game, in more ways than one, and he had been struck with a single purpose in life. But Fate had apparently decided he'd had too much fun and given him the finger big time.