Kurt Cobain Shotgun Novels & Stories

But my eyes widened when I realized that the vase he was holding was different from the one that was made from sugar! It was a real ceramic vase! Shit! *BANG!* I was frozen and relieved at the same time. This wasn’t really the next scene but whoever played that gunshot sound saved me! I chose to play my part and kept silent. I curled on the floor and shut my ears with my hands. Two more shots blared and I had a glimpse that Kurt’s body being hit by the bullets. He wobbled as he clutched his chest and gasped for air. Blood flowed from his mouth and the red pigment spread on his shirt as if it was slowly devouring him.

“He says it’s something bigger.” Leigh stared at Cory, he just sat there, looking at the trees as if something was there. “Is he okay?” “Yeah, probably just shock.” Tyler pulled another syringe from her bag and gave him a shot. “He’s not used to these things.” “Yeah, no kidding.” The search ended in less than twenty minutes. All four men came back, carrying supplies and heavy ammo. The looks on their faces showed that they had seen worse things. “Welcome back pony.” Kurt said, dropping two M590 shotguns on the wet ground, and an extra bag of supplies. “How was your nap?” He smirked.

"Can't you aim better than that, at least try my head or something?" "Then 'll make you swallow the bullet next." One guy went out carrying a shotgun. Cole's grin widen as he raised both hands faking a surrender. Such damn idiots walking right into a trap. Then the moment he grabbed the shotgun and elbowed the guy he was shot at by his comrades. "Too bad you were just a bait." Then he kicks him to the side and went back into hiding. "Watch closely Liz and right an action novel next. Kinky stuff should just remain in the bedroom."

I lamented as it showed 9:33 am now. What the hell! Why was time on an unusual speed today huh? No! Not again. Please no! Not this time too. Miss Juliet gonna be furious with me, i can't take her for a ride all the damn time. I hurried out of bed, and picked out my work clothes from my closet. I brushed my teeth and took the quickest shower of my life, i loved having long showers singing to my favorite songs but today is different. I took my coconut body wash and the fagrance filled my nostril, today look promising i must confess.

Courtney turned the joint around so she would trap it between her teeth and shotgun a steady stream of smoke directly to Ron's mouth. This time he had no choice but to inhale a substantial hit of the unique smelling smoke. The subsequent coughing fit seemed to rouse him even more. He asked for another drink, only this time, Shannon handed him her rum and coke. He took a big gulp, his half conscious condition retarding his ability to even recognize the rum laced drink. After swallowing, he plopped back to his pillow, again shutting his eyes from the bright lamp.

Derek asked as he suddenly walked in the door, sleepy and disheveled and looking sexy as hell. “You’d break a guitar onstage as part of the act,” Ryan explained. “Of course,” he said as he snatched up a muffin and wolfed it down. “The best all did it. Pete Townsend, Kurt Cobain, Jimmy Hendrix – but only if he set it on fire first – ” “Which is why we don’t let Derek near our guitars,” Ryan told me. “I think we should start smashing lead singers on stage,” Killian said. “But only if we set them on fire first.”

In the heat of the moment, he drove to another city to meet with her. I saw him walking to the closet and pulling out the scarf Sonya made for him from a corner. Now, Owen touched the gray scarf I had knitted for him, seemingly surprised that he felt a tinge of sadness over my death. … It drizzled on the day of my funeral. Bianca came early. She stood in front of my tombstone holding a black umbrella. The attendees paid their respects before my grave and left. In the end, only Bianca and Owen were left.

Faith's lips twitched as her eyes darkened with anger. She swiftly stepped back to the wall, reaching for a large, double-barreled shotgun disguised as a decorative piece. Though it looked ornamental, it was always loaded, ready to fire. Click, click. Faith adjusted the shotgun and aimed it straight at Kaze. Even though she had not fired yet, the sight alone made Buffy turn pale. “Kaze, get down!” Faith was an avid shooter and frequently visited gun clubs, well-aware of the devastating power of a shotgun, often referred to as a “cannon.”

I hissed. "There isn't one." Caleb reached under the desk and pulled out a short-barreled shotgun. He racked the slide. Clack-clack. The door exploded. Flashbang. White light scorched my retinas. My ears rang with a high-pitched scream. "Get down!" Caleb’s voice was a muffled roar. I dove behind the server rack as the first volley of gunfire shattered the monitors. Glass rained down like diamond dust. The smell of cordite filled the room.

He muttered as he gazed at the moon. "Then do you mind telling me what it is you want to tell me?" "I am Kurt Kobain, right hand of Natasha Reynolds and I can tell you that what you seek is nowhere near her." "Why should I trust the words of her right hand man?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "Like I told you earlier, you just have to trust me. I am a man that walks alone Travis…" he turned to me. "I have no allies as I have no enemies."