Machine Gun Kelly Novels & Stories

Looking at Kaze landing on another spot unscathed, Leron raised his brows in surprise but quickly got over it. If Kaze died so easily, then he would not be here in person. With that in mind, Leron tossed the shotgun away and reached into his trenchcoat for a smaller gun. The black gun was the classic M1911, a well-known model across the world. Bang! Bang! Bang! Without a shred of hesitation, Leron fired three shots aimed at Kaze’s front and sides. Kaze dodged the bullets just in time by stepping on the concrete wall behind him, pushing himself away skillfully.

Everyone was afraid of becoming the first bird to stick its head out. Who wanted to take those nine bullets? Everyone was waiting for another to take the fall. "Go! It's just a handgun, not a machine gun!" the man with glasses waved his hand. He had no intention of sacrificing himself; he just wanted everyone to rush together. That way, the bullets might hit someone else. Ray smiled. Very well. Since he asked for a machine gun, Ray would show him a machine gun. A machine gun appeared in Ray's hands. His strength now exceeded a thousand pounds. Holding the machine gun in one hand and a long ammo belt in the other took no effort at all. The pose looked exactly like a classic Terminator scene.

They only knew the hunger for the Catalyst. Killian moved before I could even raise my gun. He was a blur of lethal grace, a shadow dancing through the red emergency lights. He didn't waste bullets. He opened throats. He snapped necks. Each kill was a silent vow of protection, a brutal display of the obsession that bound him to me. I fired my suppressed Glock, picking off a Reaper who tried to lung at Julian from a side door. The recoil felt like a heartbeat against my palm. "Don't look at them, Sienna!" Killian roared, spinning me around a corner as a spray of bullets riddled the wall where I had just been standing. "Keep your eyes on me!"

Amy heard that familiar Texas drawl in the man’s voice. “Azad!” Amy searched for the little boy, picking the machine gun up again. She aimed the machine gun wildly at the Infantry-men who circled her with their guns drawn. “Where is he!? Where’s my baby!?” Amy hissed at each one of the Death Row Infantry-men. She gritted her teeth while shoving the machine gun in one soldier’s face. She wanted to strike the tall Infantry-man with the butt of the gun when he chuckled at her from behind his black visor. But Amy froze when the towering Infantry-man stepped out of the way to reveal a black suited man approaching her with a little boy in his arms.

I froze, my body turning to stone. "Are you okay?" Kelly's hands cupped my face, his eyes wild with concern. "Thank God you're alive. You're incredibly lucky you didn't get shot." *Lucky* didn't begin to cover it. I was still too shocked to smile back. He didn't seem to mind. Minutes passed before the gunfire finally stopped. Kelly peered through the bullet hole, checking if the coast was clear. He exhaled in relief. "Nobody's out there. I think they're gone, but I can't be sure." He tossed me a pocket knife. "I hope you can run, because you're going to need to. Take this."

Soon, Miller launched his gun attack brutally to his enemies in front. Arnold once again pulled Cedric and helped him to hide behind a big metal container near there. Some of Cedric’s men did not want their life to end tragically. Some of them rushed their way to the direction of Miller. With the remaining power they had, they killed all of Miller’s remaining followers. “Die Die DIE!!” Miller shouted as he kept on firing his weapon. CLACK! CLACK! Unfortunately, the machine gun has finally ran out of ammo. Knowing this chance, one of Cedric’s men rushed their way and tried to kill Miller with his knife.

The man pleaded. I started to pace. “One last question,” I paused, giving the guy hope that I would let him go. “Who fucked with my gun shipment?” My voice was oddly calm compared to the storm brewing underneath my skin. If Moretti was dipping into different organizations' contraband, we could be looking at a full out war if we weren’t careful. The man looked confused. “I don’t know anything about guns, man.” “Wrong answer.” Before I could finish, Machine cut off the man’s ear. His screams echoed in the soundproof, cement room.

"C. . . clean?" Kelly sighed and turned back. "Kill them, you moron." His eyes widened and he moved back. "B. . . b. . . but I don't even have a gun." Kelly closed her eyes and opened them. "You're in luck then, because I like to share." She raised her hand in which her gun was, and offered it to him. "Y. . y. . . you want me to use it?" "No, I want you to worship it. Of course, dummy, I want you to use it."

Derek switched to his hilariously bad English accent. “‘You yanks are all about your guns, aren’t you? Love your guns, right? We should have guns on the cover. Yeah, guns.’ So I suggested a cannon, but Killian was like, ‘This isn’t the 18th century, mate.’ So we were like, ‘What’s the biggest fucking gun you can have?’ We thought about a machinegun or something, but Riley insisted on the .44 Magnum. She’s a big Clint Eastwood fan.” I would never have guessed that, but okay.

It was a machine gun, truly to his shock. The machine gun was a customized, compact M4A1 carbine, designed for tactical operations. Its lightweight frame and adjustable stock made it easy for a person to handle. Despite its appearance, the gun emitted large fast bullets that killed instantly. The gun's matte-black finish and sleek design allowed it to blend into the shadows, making it perfect for covert missions. Carson’s eyes were fixed on Raymond as he moved with precision and deadly accuracy, his machine gun firing in short, controlled bursts. He watched in awe as he took down the assassins with shocking speed and stealth, his movements fluid, his aim true and doing all this while still