Douglas Bullet Novels & Stories

John Moore walked up to me from behind to relight the cigarette in my hand. He then asked, "The muzzle wasn't aimed at his heart. Did you have second thoughts?" White smoke rose from the lit cigarette. I replied in a disdainful voice, "Second thoughts? I never planned on killing him. A bullet is enough to end Thomas' life. What I really want is the PIN to his Swelia Bank's account, the ledger to all his dirty deals, and all of the legal businesses under his name. There's no way I'll let him die that easily."

"Why do you say so?" He sighed and shook his head sideways, then returned to his potatoes. "Too many flaws in your ammunition" he sough and fetched another bowl of clean water. "Your gun and bullets are way too small, and your bullets are not made of silver" he didn't turn to look at the shocked expression on her face as he began dropping the chopped potatoes into the bowl of water. "Those bullets are made of brass, coated with silver. If you want to stand a chance against the wolves, you need a silver bullet and not this toy you call a gun" he finished and turned to look at her.

Even Briscoe with his attendants panicked. Orion was dangerously close to Alexander. His silver-white gun was the latest issue for Umbracia's military, the M11SF, with a range of 150 meters and a bullet that could fly at over 400 meters per second. At that velocity, the moment Orion fired, it would take less than a blink for the bullet to pierce Alexander's skull. No matter how strong one might be, evasion was simply not an option. However, Alexander did not even flinch. At Youphoria Nightclub, he once dodged bullets with the grace of a dancer. However, he simply reached out his right hand and caught the speeding bullet as if it were a fly.

How could he forget his boss's schedule for this evening? Taking only five minutes, Andrew finished his shower. He tossed the towel he had used onto the bed and headed towards the walk-in closet. Quickly, he put on his clothes, combed his hair, and sprayed perfume on his body. Andrew didn't forget to grab one of his favorite weapons, a Colt 1911, kept beneath the vanity table. The legendary handheld firearm, created by John Moses Browning, had a double-stacked (zig-zag) ammunition arrangement, with a magazine that could hold up to 14 .45 ACP caliber bullets. This small-sized firearm was a favorite among intelligence agents like Andrew. After ensuring the ammunition was full, Andrew tucked it

If Brigid was mad at me for that, she had yet to rear her head about it. I wiped down my rifle and slid it back in its sleeve before snapping my skis back on. It would make my way down the slope so much easier and more fun to use the short skies than to snowshoe my way down. Makya was emerging from his hiding spot and waved to me. “Eileen, good shooting as always! Which did you use?” Makya called. “Silver on the alpha, that one there was the 165 grain bullet. Seems to have done the trick.”

7mm sniper bullet sliced through the air, heading straight toward Bluebird! Seeing this, Bluebird frowned. She turned her wrist, and the dagger moved from below to above, slicing toward the 12.7mm bullet. With a clash between the bullet and the dagger, a flash of fire erupted. Ultimately, the sniper bullet was split in half. However, due to the precise timing of the shot, just as Bluebird was taking a breath, coupled with the large caliber of the sniper bullet, Bluebird was affected when she cut through the bullet. Her jade hand holding the dagger shook.

I love you, baby. Now Dallas looked through the rifle scope and changed his focus. His whole world became a spot in the middle of Greg’s forehead, right now visible only in Dallas’ mind’s eye. That tiny space was all he saw, nothing and nobody else existed, not anywhere. He stared at that small patch of skin – no more than one-half of a square inch – and imagined his bullet going in right there. He took a deep breath, listened to the rhythm of his own slow, steady heartbeat. Breathed out between beats. And took the shot. ****

Danwel informed. "I also noticed that their bullets have different structures and functions. You see, the Company invented its own projectile. Their bullet is two-pointed with a line dividing it, compared to a normal one which is only a one-pointed projectile. The original bullet made by the Company can be divided into two, but for the fake, I can't divide it. That's why I concluded that faking it was not the intention of the killer. It seems like who made the fake one missed some information about the original one. Maybe that's why finding it was fake must have really been upsetting for the killer." he left a deep sigh.

didn't struggle like most women who pretend to resist and then weaken under the erotic mix. Obviously, the figure before me is clearly a man. He was mature and had a body that was well-proportioned among metrosexuals. His muscle bulges were not as big as a body builder's, but they were something to be proud of in front of the women who were his frequent customers. "Why is this still reacting?" I asked after managing to drop him on the bed and grabbing the tension in front of my face. Yes, the tantalizing shape of the half-arm-length club was leaking its transparent lubricant at the tip. It was a little salty to the tongue, but I loved his sexy moans.

🦪 DORA 🦪 A gun? That should be out of the list. 3 minutes. Shit! Fucking smelly ass shit! Have you ever tried dodging a bullet? Seems impossible, doesn’t it? Well, I bring good news. It doesn’t seem impossible… it is impossible. The theory doesn’t add up. On average, modern bullets travel between eight-hundred and one thousand four-hundred feet per second, and there’s me who take five seconds to land one step.