Cursed Gun นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I lifted it out with careful hands and opened the latch. There it was. A sleek silver pistol with a pearl handle, nestled in custom-fitted foam. Below it were six bullets that gleamed with an odd, blue tint. Wolfsbane. Enough to kill six werewolves, or one werewolf six times over. I stared at the weapon that could end Darragh's life, that could destroy everything I cared about. In Ciara's vision, this gun was the difference between my best friend living and dying. Between having a future and losing everything.

The kid had discovered that her partner had been kidnapped by the Famiglia, and the Italian cunts were going to kill him unless we helped rescue him. While we sure as fuck were no white knights, the Hell’s Rebels MC was renowned for the quality and their level of production of ghost guns—a type of weapon that had no serial number on them, so they couldn’t be traced. When we’d cut a deal, we’d gone in and saved the fucker, but I’d gotten shot up in the process. I knew for a fact that we’d lost another of our men too. A sad day. And even worse, my body hurt like a fucker.

(Let me Go) “que dolor en el culo,” he cursed under his breath, irked. Kilian raised the gun and pulled the trigger without looking in the man’s direction. The fire shot through the man’s heart, silencing him for good. (What a pain in the ass) “Now, speak,” he commanded when the warehouse became dead silent. “We have found the location of the men who had attacked Sebastian,” “Where?” he fished out a cigarette from his pocket, shoved it between his lips. Taking out the lighter from his pants pocket, he lit the cigarette.

The hunter whispered, closing his mouth with his palm. What made a man, a hunter, that killed a lion, a while ago, tremble can certainly kill me. Oh goodness, not again. Was I cursed? Was my curse from the birth? If I wasn’t cured, why was I moving from one bad to another worse. I was out of the dangerous coven to go on a malevolent mission and here I was again trapped between creatures I had no idea of who they are.

Take it you m*therf*cker" one of them cursed and I cursed under my breath as the bullet into my arm . I shot at him in anger and some of them ran over to me and we got into full combat . They tried to punch ,I dodged and kicked them with my leg then shot at them . Bl**d hoozed out of the injury and I decided to run . I hid under one of the trucks and I could here their voices . It was a stupid Decision coming here without informing my brothers but knowing my brothers they'd track me down all I had to do was get help . I sent my hands to my pocket and cursed under my breath .

Something like amusement crossed his gaze. His lips moved slightly, but I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing. “F++k…” he cursed under his breath, his deep voice echoing through the tension in the air. He roughly removed his wet black gloves, dropping the gun onto his thigh and exposing a tattoo of a skull and guns on his left hand, while on his right, a casket and skeleton were inked across his knuckles. Alarm bells exploded inside my head. My lungs suddenly stopped functioning well; my stomach tightened as I acted on instinct, reaching for the door and forcefully twisting the lock.

he cursed me I held my gun and pointed it to his forehead, I kept staring at him but lost the courage to put a bullet right into his skull because he deserved it. "do it fool, that's what you know how to do best. I will forever rest with the fact that you and your family are doomed. Death for sure!!!" he screamed and laughed so hard I continued staring at him and wondered if he was high on drugs, I put my gun down and walked to my car, my phone rang and I realized my wife was the caller.

Chris cursed loudly through clenched teeth and I quickly picked up a gun and pushed it towards him with trembling hands, my eyes widening and a strangled gasp slipped out of my lips as I realized the reason for him cursing angrily a second ago. He got shot— in his right arm, and it was bleeding fast, soaking his sleeve up immediately. “Fuck, Christ.” I cried out dejectedly as I crouched down beside and handed him the gun and he collected it with his left hand after a few seconds. The shooting had finally stopped, which made me drag in the first slow breath since the start of the shooting spree.

“This gun is full of silver and wolfsbane hollow points. It will put down anything: werewolf, vampire, dark creature, in one shot. Do not make me kill you.” My eyes welled with tears. “I’m telling Candido!” “Estella,” Candido’s voice cut through the air. I turned toward him. He had a bandage across his chest as he headed toward us. “Put the gun down. Please. You need to save your strength.” Her eyes turned glossy, and she stagged, lowering her gun and using it as a cane. “She—” “Hedy,” Candido said stiffly. “Be quiet.” My jaw dropped. “You—”

He produced a pistol he’d taken from the body of one of the Major’s guards. Jeannine saw the gun and knew there was only one place Curtis could have gotten it. Cops. They were cops. She killed two cops. Dirty or no, they were—stop it! Not now. The creature let out a moist sound that could have been a laugh. The remaining skin on the left side of its jaw sloughed off and the mandible dislocated. Cassandra-corpse didn’t notice. “The Major’s men are Nazis, for lack of a better label,” she rasped. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about killing Nazis, Dear-heart.” The skull with the ice-blue eyes turned to Curtis. “And you can’t finish me with a gun, soldier—”