Bullet Trash Can Novels & Stories

“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.

I have a Nerf bullet stuck in my hair. Great.

"I don't know if, or when, I might be ready for anything more but if you still want to be my friend, I could use one." "Of course," he holds me tighter. I let myself relax into his embrace. I have made a decision. I need to burn my bully out of my mind and heart. For the sake of my sanity, I need to forget about Atticus Preston.

Lola, Grim, and Mac were amongst the dead that I did know. It didn't take long for the rest of the town to come to see the destruction. Some of those who died had mates who'd felt the bond break immediately. Howlers and Blood Dogs worked together to move the bodies. Dax wouldn't let anyone touch Lola, though. He held onto her tight in the garage parking lot. No one bothered him. I sat with Brat in the bar. She'd regained consciousness from the gas she'd inhaled and appeared to be doing ok. Stella walked over to me. Stitch had managed to get the silver bullet out of her leg, and he was currently working on others in the bar while wearing leather gloves so the silver wouldn't burn his skin.

Thankfully, I listened to Hurricane's advice and changed every single car in my fleet to custom made, bullet proof brands. Tariq's voice comes over the speakers, "Get in formation! Everyone, get in formation! We're backfiring in five seconds." I stare at the gun in my passengers' seat, and memories of blood and death assail me. I haven't touched one of those since I left that life behind. But my woman lies unconscious in there. Anger tightens my veins. Heads must roll. I pick up the gun and pull the safety. "...two…one…fire!"

Protein bullets can cause 'Muscle Denaturation' and 'Acute Calorie Crisis'! Bima had no time to think. The protein bullet streaked forward, emitting a faint red glow as it zoomed toward him. With the last of his reflexes, fueled by rage and survival instinct, Bima limped to the side. WHUUSSH! The bullet narrowly missed his head, slamming into the tunnel wall behind him with a deafening BLAR! The steel wall dented, a small hole appearing, and from that puncture, white steam smelling of scorched protein billowed out.

A stick for support was in his hand and some of his bodyguards were beside him. He had a kind and gentle face but his eyes were like steel. He introduced himself as the CEO of the company and extended his hand in greeting. Standing up, I offered to shake his hand. Once his hands touched mine, he looked curious and said, "You have warm hands." I replied, "And you have cool hands." We both laughed and I offered him a seat. He responded, "I had heard a lot about you and was eager to meet you in person." I smiled and replied, "I am glad, so how can I help you?" He replied, "I am Diaz Cartel, CEO of GUNBUL. We manufacture bullets of all types." I raised an eyebrow at him in appreciation and he sm

The Mattress rose high in a small spot. He put his hand between the mattress and box spring and felt the grip of the pistol. His heart skipped for a second. He pulled out the 9mm pistol, he checked the safety, then removed the bullets and studied them. "Silver bullets," growled Uncle Martin as he examined it closely. "That alone is more than enough to put her in jail. Possession of a gun with intent to kill a werewolf. Hel, Dustin, that girl is really wild. Dustin tucked the gun into his belt and stuffed the bullets into his pockets. "She's no longer a threat."

“You know bullets don't work on these things. The same way betas were banned from using guns here is the way it is there. Swords, Katana, or crossbows are approved.” “Yeah,” I affirmed. “Bullets aren't made of silver, so werewolves' quick healing helps them recover faster, dissolving the bullet within. And the witches, you gun wouldn't work at all.” “Tell me about it,” Zack leaned forward. “I've seen witches freeze bullets in the air. What the hell. It's as if the bullets respond to—” Zack's phone rang loudly, stopping him. “Excuse me, Alpha,” he pleaded. “I need to take this.”

I dropped the weapon and disbanded it, pulling out its bullet. The bullet was filled with liquid garlic and silver, and its purpose was exposure. If it shoots into a person, there will be an immediate effect, exposing if the person is a vampire or a werewolf. It may also kill this person. So, I am not going to use all of it, I just need a small portion of it. I opened the bullet and poured out its content until it remained little before covering it back up. I put the bullet into my pocket, fixed up the weapon, and hung it back. I left the shed, closed it after me, and replaced the removed brick.