Matans Shooter Novels & Stories

I say, raising an eyebrow at him. “No, it’s not,” he replies, eyes glinting. “But you did good.” I feel a flush of pride, but before I can respond, Matt picks up his own gun, loading it with practiced ease. There’s a shift in his expression, though. His eyes harden, his jaw clenches, and he steps up to the line with a tension I haven’t seen in him before. He raises the gun, fires, and the shot lands dead center with a crack that makes my pulse jump.

And he confessed, spilling names and locations, every sordid detail we needed. I stood, taking in the man’s wrecked appearance one last time. “Thank you for your cooperation,” I said, my voice laced with irony. “If you’re lucky, maybe the next person you meet won’t be quite as… thorough as Matteo.” “Yeah, maybe in your next life,” Matteo said pulling out his gun and shot him in the head. As soon as Matteo’s gunshot echoed through the warehouse, we turned and walked out, leaving our men to handle the cleanup. There was no way we were going to let the bastard after the hurtful things he did to those women we caught him with.

Discovering that it was empty, he proceeded to load it with the bullets Matt had supplied. “Go ahead, I am certainly given you my life today and it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. I have said what I wanted to say to you. Someday, when the truth will surface, you will know that I told you the truth,” Matt said and bowed his head, closing his eyes in a desperate attempt to avoid witnessing his own son pointing the gun at him. He thought he was ready for it, but now he realized it hurt him more. Tears filled his eyes.

What followed was controlled chaos. Elias took down the first man with a punch that broke his jaw. Zion shot the second—a clean shot to the head. Luka neutralized the third with two precise shots to the chest. The fourth man — the one holding Matthew — tried to use my son as a shield. It was the biggest mistake of his life. I raised the gun and fired without hesitation. The bullet hit his shoulder. He screamed and released Matthew. My son ran to me. “Mom!” I hugged him with so much force I almost crushed him, falling to my knees on the dirty floor as he cried against my chest.

And Damon saw it the exact second before it happened. The decision. If Matteo couldn’t own the ending, he would ruin it. He pivoted violently, gun snapping toward Luca on the ground. Damon didn’t think. Didn’t calculate. Didn’t even breathe. He fired. The shot cracked through the rain. Matteo jerked. His gun discharged wildly into the dark. Then slipped from his fingers and vanished into the mud. For one suspended second, nobody moved. Matteo looked down. At the blood spreading across his lower abdomen.

Gaudy, tasteless, and if I remember right, registered to some shell company owned by Matt that he does business through. I’m crouched across the street in the bushes like a wild cat, surveying tonight’s security, which seems sparse. I only see two men by the gate and one patrolling the grounds. Matt hasn’t had much competition as of late; maybe he’s letting his guard down. Quietly, I screw the silencer onto my pistol and take aim. The guard on the left goes down before his companion even has time to notice. He’s reaching for his own weapon when my shot hits him in the center of his forehead, knocking the hat off his head.

A man in black was chasing after him, gun in hand. A few more bullets were fired. Matthias grabbed a painting off the wall and hurled it at the attacker just as sharp pain exploded in his leg. He groaned, teeth gritted as he grabbed onto the railing to stop himself from falling down the stairs. Hissing and glancing down at his leg, Matthias cursed. He had been shot. Blood seeped from the wound with a stinging pain. And his killer was gaining on him, the painting tossed aside. Fuck. Another round of bullets was fired. Matthias ducked behind the railing, thankful for the bare minimum of cover.

He lunged toward Beau, closing the distance fast, like he could end this before Beau recovered. I couldn’t stop shaking. I could only watch. But as Mattias got near…just close enough to strike…Beau spun his body and fired again. “Bang.” The shot hit Mattias with brutal finality. He jerked like someone had yanked a rope tied to his spine. Then he crumpled to the floor. Beau’s breath came in ragged gasps. His face tightened with pain, but his eyes stayed locked on Mattias, cold and unblinking.

Until he saw through the dark the dark red liquid trickling off her dress. "Run!" She screamed. But he couldn't bring himself to move. He was too shocked, watching wide eyed at his mother who was slowly turning around to shield him with her body, the arrow ends coming into view. He saw the mark on the arrow tail. It was feathered in blue colour, an unmistakable letter W carved into the arrow body. He heard the fast shooting arrow and heard his mother's gasp too as the arrow went through her chest. Again. "Mom!" He wailed in terror. Obviously there's been some mistake somewhere.

Lorenzo's voice was low… deadly. Matteo’s face drained of color. “N-no, Don—” “Tell me,” Lorenzo continued, stepping closer, his eyes locked on him, “is there a reason you want me to stay?” Matteo shook his head quickly. “Liar.” The gunshot echoed through the room. Matteo screamed as the bullet tore into his leg, dropping him to the ground. Men rushed in at the sound, but froze when they saw Don Lorenzo standing over him. No one moved.