Bulletbarry Face Novels & Stories

"Now we wait for our real target." He stood back and scratched his head with the barrel of the gun. As he raised it, something was odd. Off. The movie scene from her dream played in her mind. Vinnie Jones telling the three guys that while their guns had the words 'replica' on the side, his had 'Desert Eagle 0.5.' 'It's not real,' she realised. She wasn't sure how, but she knew it. Knew it in her bones. 'That gun is a replica.'

Rude but I like him! That savage Looks like the cold type I wonder if he is handsome , why is he covering half of his face ? "His voice sounds familiar " Barbie mumbled and pursed her lips and started thinking. "Omg He is the handsome cold jerk!! " She almost screamed. Her eyes watched him careful , waiting to confirm if it was really him. Meanwhile Alice and Jennie were sitting next to each as usual they were looking at the celling , most importantly the celling that was below where Barbie was sitting.

she asked, her voice laced with worry. I shook my head. "No, they're great. I just need some alone time," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. River wrapped her arms around me in a warm embrace, her gentle hands patting my back. "Would you like to watch some TV and have some ice cream?" she offered, her voice soft and soothing. I nodded, grateful for her kindness. As I looked into her beautiful, brown eyes, a sudden loud gunshot echoed through the bar, shattering the peaceful atmosphere. Panic erupted as people started running in all directions.

Appearing from behind the bar area and I flinch when I catch sight of his face. He’s older than Colton for sure, a little greying of his hair at the temples and he has one completely white eyeball that suggests he’s partially blind. The other so dark brown in comparison that you can’t help but react when you see it. A raggedy awful looking scar running from cheek to forehead and passing right through, so deep you can tell he was wounded pretty badly whenever this happened and it’s literally the first thing you see.

"What if something has happened to him? We need to know." Bart was a middle-aged man with little white hair on his head and a well-groomed beard on his face. He had a rough and weathered appearance, with deep lines etched into his forehead and around his mouth. Despite his rough exterior, he had a mischievous twinkle in his eye that made him seem approachable.

she said sharply. Barry, who normally didn’t appreciate being ordered around, frowned slightly. “Alright. Rest for a bit.” He opened the car door and got out. Just as he was about to confront whoever hit their car, a group of thuggish men stepped out from the other vehicle. They were dressed like street punks, tattoos of tiger heads clearly visible on their arms—an unmistakable symbol of the underground gambling world, even if Barry didn’t frequent casinos. Four of them got out, each holding a baseball bat and a cigarette dangling from their lips. They approached him with malicious intent.

This was the first time they were seeing her this infuriated and an angry Raelynn was never good for them. “I want to know who the other spies in the battalion are.” Raelynn smacked the whip once again and this time, it landed right in front of Barry’s face. His eyes widened and he tried to wriggle away, sweat dripping down his face and mixing with the blood that was trickling down from the cut near his lips.

He hadn't seen it coming and so had the other men. I had punched directly into his face, arranging the position of his nose. Blood spilled immediately and he grabbed his nose painfully for a while before looking at me and charging at me like a wounded bull. I stood there with arms folded and before he could ram into me, the men were already holding him back. "What's going on here?!" Barrymore said as he came to stand before us all. "She punched me!" Barrymore turned to me with a frown on his face. "Why would you do that?"

Gunnar added, leaning closer, his voice low. The barber swallowed hard, his initial bravado now replaced by a sheepish demeanor. “Yes, of course. I’ll stick to the haircut.” Gunnar leaned back, his mood slightly soured but still amused by the situation. The barber, clearly embarrassed and eager to make amends, quickly focused on his task, working diligently to perfect the Classic Quiff cut. Rene, still sipping his whiskey, finally looked up, noticing the tension. He raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Everything alright?”

Next, I step forward in slow and easy steps, not showing one flinch of fear… Then… I lift the bat and draw it back over my shoulder… It swings through the air with a swift speed; I can hear the whoosh it makes as it passes by my ear and flings to the front of me. I can see the tiny blades of the barbwire start piercing into the skin of the creature as it makes a direct impact with its dirty and bloodied face. With one squish sound, the skin erupts, and the blood spatters from his face and drops to the floor in a pitter-patter… Connor only nods at me.