Deadly Force Novels & Stories

and took her last breath. “NO!!”, Dianne cried, cried for the death of someone who was very dear to her, someone who was like a sister, now she was dead. Dianne saw red as anger vibrated from her, they will all pay, they all will!!. She stood up and with a roar, she charged. A careless soldier aimed at her and she swiped him of his feet, she sunk her sword into his chest and twisted it.

He pleaded. "That's not how it works. Tell me what you have heard about me in the streets? What did people warn you about when it came to making deals with me?" "They said never to cross the Deadly one, to do so-" he paused, shaking his head. "To do so would be a death sentence to not only you but your family. But I didn't think I couldn't pay you back. I was one win away from getting it all back. I can get it all back." I let out a low chuckle.

A child who obeys the commandments and will not turn a deaf ear to the commands of his/her parents. "Those sinners who killed, murdered or whatsoever was destined to have karmic death," then this time it hit me. My father dies because of the karmic fate of one of them. One of Albus and Hailey. "You got it right!" I immediately looked up at him. He seems to be reading my mind again. His face is serious, not mocking nor grinning. For some unknown reason, anger welled up inside me. That explains why I don't see a grim reaper behind my father because he wasn't destiny to die. It is their fault.

The heat radiating off him was like a furnace, a intoxicating mix of feverish sweat, rain, and raw, untamed dominance. "Put a bullet in me, Ari," he whispered, his right hand coming up to grip the slide of my gun, his palm wrapping over the cold metal, forcing the barrel deeper into his own flesh. His dark eyes burned into mine, completely unbothered by the threat of death. "Because unless you kill me, you are going to tell me who the hell is standing in front of me." My breath hitched, my knuckles turning white against the grip of the firearm. I could feel the rapid, heavy thudding of his heart through the steel slide of the gun. He was mad. Fully, utterly mad.

Moreover, it was as powerful as the bullet of a sniper rifle, and he savagely broke their technique. A club member blocking his way was hit. With a thump, the man was blasted back by the impact. Moreover, there was a sunken, bloody hole in his chest! The immense force tore up the man’s body instantly. The man had already stopped moving when he crashed to the ground. He was dead. Every punch Zayn threw and every kick he swung would take a life. Anyone who blocked his path would not be able to withstand one strike from him before being blasted away and killed regardless of weapon and skill level. In less than half a minute, he had already killed more than ten club members.

Her gun fired, rebounding off the wall and echoing through the dark room. Alexis scrambled to rise, clawing at his face as he hovered over her. He wanted so badly to put his hands around her neck, but the guilt made him falter. He had murdered not one, but two of her brothers, and now, having Zoe lying motionless beside him, he understood the torment she felt, the overwhelming desire for retribution. His hesitation was enough for Alexis to regain control, tugging her gun from underneath his body and aiming it directly against his forehead. It was so close. He could feel the chill drifting from the metal, smell the gunpowder from her earlier shot.

When she saw Antoine faint, she nearly fainted herself. “Call the doctor! Hurry!” When Alyse did not react, she quickly scrambled for the call button, but Alyse stepped on her hand. Alyse looked down on her and smirked. “I won’t let you.” The woman’s eyes widened. Terrified, she said, “He’s losing so much blood! If he keeps bleeding, he’ll die!” “Then, let him die. I caused the deaths of Clinton’s parents. Naturally, I can cause Antoine’s as well.” Alyse’s voice was very gentle, and her expression was vicious.

He grabbed Krasny by the collar and slammed him against the wall because he wanted to see his face, wanted to see the fear in his eyes, and Krasny gasped as the impact drove the air from his lungs. "It's over," Dimitri said, and his voice was ice because there was nothing left to feel. "You've lost." Krasny laughed because it was bitter and broken and desperate. "You think this is over? This is just the beginning." Dimitri put the gun to his head because he was tired of words, tired of threats, tired of men who thought they could destroy everything he loved and walk away. "Tell your men to stand down," he said, and his voice was flat and final. "Or I'll put a bullet in your skull."

Staying when staying costs him something. The rifle fires. Dex goes down. The jam lands one breath later. The signal fractures. The pack finds itself again. Not gently. Thirty bodies reconnect at once, awareness snapping across the lattice, each of them finding the others, all of them finding Marcus. The Alpha rises. The wolf emerges. Thirty of them turn toward the facility as one. What follows lasts approximately nine seconds. Maya will not describe it to herself later. There are kinds of violence that become worse when given language.

my wife wondered as she looked around the castle from the glass French door. "There wasn't much difference between them because both were dangerous and fed on blood. However, Deathly Blood was one of the types of blood manipulation. The first type was known as Blood Weapon; this style of blood manipulation allowed you to change your blood into any dangerous armament, including knives, guns, and grenades. They were more lethal than regular weaponry. The second variety was Bloody Saint, which included complex blood manipulation but was a powerful sort of blood healing. It was like an elixir, and the final one was Deathly Blood. It was a type that was not only difficult to learn but also diffic