Douglas Bullet Novels & Stories

‘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.

Dan shoved the gun into my hands, then gave me a box of bullets. Silver ones. I recognized the box as the same one from the gun shop that the woman gave me before. “You use those if you need to,” Dan said. “Pump, shoot, then run. Don’t bother lookin’ to see if it’s dead or not. And if you come across a human who’s not all there, like the one I’m assumin’ shot you last night… Aim for the chest. The bullets have a good spray to ‘em, so you don’t have to be too accurate.”

The man who did the reporting immediately bowed his head firmly. While the other approached and crouched around there, until he found a bullet. Which he noticed and Damian looked at him, waiting for his report. "I found a bullet made by Saga Corp. This bullet is clearly from Saga Corp, which makes it impossible for it to be used by any weapon other than Saga Corp's as well. The culprit is most likely one of us. The culprit escaped together with Selena." Damian could see that too. He then walked out of his room quickly. He immediately bumped into Luca in front of his room.

He chuckles nervously, “It still baffles me that you choose to be your own product tester.” I shrug, a sly smirk spreading on my lips, “It still baffles me that more CEO’s aren’t. Is the facility ready for me?” “Always,” Douglas presses a finger against the keypad, and it illuminates green, allowing us entry. Along the walls are prototypes for my newest bullet-proof compression shirts. I came up with a design that would be comfortable for combat, as well as light and flexible for the average soldier. But more importantly, it’s designed to eliminate the effects of silver bullets.

“I saw the red dot on your chest a second before it happened. I should have pushed you down faster.” I reached for his hand. “Stop. You didn’t know.” The door slammed open. Dante stormed in holding a tablet. His eyes were wild and his knuckles were bleeding as if he had punched something too many times. “We got something,” he said. His voice was rough. “The bullet was custom. Silver core with a poison coating. Meant to kill an Omega fast. Only three places in the country make them. And the order came from inside the Council.” Ethan stood up so fast the chair fell over. “Who?”

Fennigan’s voice tore through the cabin, a primal, earth-shaking command that silenced everything else. The crack of the high-velocity rifle round cut through the mountain air a split second later. Through the long-range scope, Toby saw the world erupt in a spray of heat. Damon didn’t even have time to turn his head; the bullet caught him in the shoulder, the kinetic energy spinning him like a ragdoll and slamming him against the cold, reinforced steel of the bunker’s outer frame. The two small bundles tumbled from his arms, hitting the soft pine needles. "Target down! Target down!" Toby’s voice was jagged with adrenaline and horror. "The packages are on the ground! They're clear of the door

The air at the private testing range of Delyon Armaments smelled of cordite and opportunity. The sun beat down hard on the asphalt, reflecting off the steel barrels I held with a familiarity that was second nature. — “The DSR-50.” I announced, my voice projected but effortless, cutting through the background murmur of the buyers. They were men from countries with porous borders and generous defense budgets. — “Precision at 1,500 meters. Mitigated recoil system. The right tool for… dissuading distant arguments.”

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.”

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."