Douglas Bullet Novels & Stories

i added with my eyes piercing at Pete whose lips were in a thin line as he stared far off like he was trying to remember what had happened. “What kind of ammonition, i sell a large varieties- you’ll have to be more specific.” he said crossign his arms over his chest revealing the small trail of tattoo around his arms. It was more than what i had last seen the last time i saw him and this one was a skull of a man and tiny butterflies around painted red. It was unlike Pete to have such engravings on him- it was too personal to the not mean anything. “A bullet.” Malcolm replied. “From a snipper- its size is seven point six two millimeter. Does that ring a bell?” I turned to Malcolm, he had done

‘How can they still be moving? I looked at the gun in my hand and raised a brow, noticing something. ‘What types of bullets are these?’ He made a quick swerve that he tried to control so I wouldn’t fall out of my seat and I couldn’t be more grateful for that. ‘Lead. Why?’ They were too close for comfort now. One leap and they’d either be over the car, in our seats, or at the trunk. ‘Please tell me you have some freaking silver bullets.’ ‘How does that… duck!’ Without question, I bent over and a mighty branch that would have surely knocked me over, flew right over my head, some of its leaves getting stuck in my hair.

Photos and videos, bringing me up to speed on everything I’ve missed in the past month. I settle down to watch it all. The bullet was ladled with wolfsbane.

This time, there was no name—just a date. The night of the shooting. Damien’s smile grew sharper. “Oh, Derek… you played your part beautifully.” He placed the photograph down and walked to his desk. A glass case sat atop it—sleek, locked, airtight. He pressed his thumb against the sensor, and it clicked open. Inside lay a single bullet. Silver-cased. Engraved. The first bullet. The one that started everything. He lifted it between his fingers. “This,” he whispered, “is the lie that keeps the truth breathing.”

Kyle attempted to crawl to her. Lila moved back, letting him go. But Kyle hardly crossed a few meters. The physical work was taking a toll on his body. He paused and lowered his head to rest. He heard a snickered coming from his right. The doctor was enjoying seeing him crawl with his hands proudly folded across his chest. "Told you, Lila, the bullets are harmless." He drew his gun and looked at it delightedly. "Another invention of mine— Neuro-sedative bullets. They help sedate the person you shoot. Though it leaves a small wound, it's not lethal."

I teased him, "You just ate your words." "It's for your good. Trust me on this one, but don't trust me too much." I grunted in frustration, as I walked out towards my balcony. I was about to lean against the railings when suddenly Doom ran towards me as we rolled on the floor and heard a gunshot. The bullet was etched on the back wall where I was standing earlier. "It aimed at my head."

I mumbled, not knowing whether to reassure Elias or to reassure myself. After a while of struggling, I finally got two bullets out. These bullets are specially designed; their tails are pretty small, but their heads are enormous. This is the first time I have seen such a cruel design. When I took the bullet out, it was like a hook, sticking firmly into Elias's flesh. I wanted to curse whoever created it. Would he want to experience his evil design? After taking out the bullet, I wiped the blood from the outside of the wound, sprinkled hemostatic powder on it, then carefully bandaged it. Next were a few shots under his thighs, and after I was done processing, the bandage on Elias's back was a

I looked at the body and realized it was Bryon’s. With a cry of despair I ran over to him, running my hands over his body. He was still breathing and, I noticed with relief, his body had already pushed the bullet out and it was starting to heal. He wasn’t conscious but I could see he wasn’t in any danger. I picked up the bullet and looked at it. It was a typical lead bullet. Either the person who shot Bryon didn’t realize he was shooting a werewolf and needed a silver bullet, or he didn’t want to kill anyone. Silver bullets are expensive and hard to come by, so there was a chance he needed Bryon out of the way to get to something, or someone, else. James.

She returned a few minutes later, stopping short when she saw Andrew Douglas lying on the floor with his eyes open, his head surrounded by a pool of his own blood and brain matter. I took the first aid kit from her and opened it. I took out the tweezers and the small bottle of antiseptic liquid. I poured the liquid over the wound and gritted my teeth as it burned. I clenched my eyes closed until the burning subsided. I placed my fingers around the bullet hole and spread it open. I stuck the tweezers inside and pulled the bullet out. I was breathing heavily by this time as fresh blood oozed out and I put the tweezers down.

“Did you bring the goods?” “Of course,” the man responds, placing his briefcase on the desk. “Please take a look.” Nodding, Angus goes around and takes a seat, then opens the briefcase, revealing what look like normal bullets. Confusion growing, I stare at them, trying to figure out what exactly is so special about these bullets that Angus and even my brother would be so interested in them. “They look like normal bullets.” Angus mutters, grabbing one and lifting it, but when he touches the tips, multiple needles explode from it. “Fuck.”