Colten Gunn Novels & Stories

One of the researchers, Hackett, stared straight at Colten: "If you have the guts, kill us all. Our country will avenge us, and you will never escape justice." "Justice? Hahaha!" Colten squatted in front of him, blocking the view of the others, straightened Hackett's collar, and said in a cold voice, "Here, I am the law!" Colten stood up, grabbed a gun from one of his men, and shot Hackett in the chest. The bullet went straight in. Hackett lowered his eyes in pain, watching the blood flow from his chest... and collapsed to the ground without a sound.

He was a devil in human form. He wore an all black suit. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone and revealed his toned chest and skin. I could see some of his tattoos peeking out of his sleeves and collar. A cigarette hung loosely between his lips, and I could not help but be awed at the way smoke oozed out of them with ease. My eyes fell on the bloody knife clenched in his hands before returning to his eyes. They did not waver from mine, and I felt transparent under his gaze. Oh my God, he killed them all in less than ten seconds. How was that even possible? What was he?

He stepped back from Colt, gun still pointed at him. I couldn’t believe Otis was eviler than I thought he was. For sure, he had nothing humane left in him. “Now let me tell you about Colt.” “I swear—” Colt was cut off. “His twin brother, Colton Rebel. Do you know how he died?” I gasped in shock. Twin brother? Colt launched himself to Otis, but he halted when Otis pointed the gun right to his forehead. “I will fucking kill you!” Colt gritted with rage, vibrated with the urge to revenge his brother—his twin brother.

Colton crouched beside him, gun angled outward, keeping watch. Julian stood apart. Not idle, never idle, but still in a way no soldier should be. His long fingers traced the line of the detonator pack he wore across his chest—something meant for the satellite’s power relay, but altered, tuned, sharpened for something more final. His mouth was dry, and yet he smiled faintly as if in conversation with someone unseen. Above, the drones descended like black rain. Rhett cursed under his breath, tossing a charge into Colton’s hand.

- "I didn't intend for you to know, but things can get more violent. And if that's the case, you need to be prepared." The redhead's eyes swept the entire length of the room, where only Colton was. He was loading his revolver, pulling the trigger and aiming. Never shooting. Soon after, he removed the ammunition and repeated the process. - "Colton," Spencer called, and got the man's attention. - "Yes, sir." Colton left the gun on a bench and walked closer to the pair at the door. He wore a military uniform, and his toned body filled out the outfit admirably. The agent glanced at Blair, not exactly approving of the redhead's presence, then looked away to the inspector.

Amidst the smoke and smell of gunpowder, Colton was unperturbed as he approached the door. The men surrounding him were protecting him closely, not allowing any single bullet to stray toward him. If one of them were shot, another person would take that position. No matter how many went down from this reckless approach, they did not stop. Colton just continued walking, dispassionate and uninterested in how many people were lost on both sides. His expressionless face and cold aura freaked out the only person standing who was guarding the door. He pointed his gun at Colton but when he pulled the trigger, only the sound of an empty magazine responded to him.

Colton let out a scoff and a menacing smirk. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’ve been waiting a whole year for this. There’s no way I’m gonna miss this shot,” With that, he turned around and aimed his gun at the cutout again. He took a moment to adjust his aim before pulling the trigger. * BANG! * The cutout burst into two with Colton’s final shot. Levi and Jackson roared in laughter and cheer as Colton turned around and walked away, fully focused and unfazed.

“Fine. You want in, you’re in.” They went to the armory room in the back of the club. Metal shelves lined with firearms, ammunition, and knives gleamed in the low light. Amy’s fingers skimmed along the collection before she pulled down a polished Colt 1911 and a snub-nosed revolver. Isadora grinned and took her favorites — a black Beretta M1951 and a sawed-off shotgun with a worn leather strap. “You ever notice,” Isadora said as she checked the Beretta’s magazine, “that people like us never really retire?”

DELUCA I stepped into the place, finding a tied up Colton by the door side, with another drinking male seated on a rocking chair. Already looking too far gone to notice us. I sighed with annoyance and gave a signal and Henry walked up to the guy who scrambled to get up but Henry gave him a soft push that had him stumbling back down and my eyes narrowed as I gave a short glance between a grinning Lucas and a smirking Henry. Fuckers. I aimed a gun at Colton whose eyes widened with fear and his mouth opened in a silent scream as I fired the gun thrice in quick succession.