One Shots Novels & Stories

Whispered the incantation. The wind picked up, hard and fast, tugging at our hair, our clothes, our skin. The salt around us flared white. The blood in the bowl boiled. And then— Pain. Like fire spreading through my veins. My eyes snapped open— I saw Ronan seize. And I saw the mark on my shoulder burn away. It was working. But then— The wind went dead still. Too still. The flames of the torches turned blue. And a voice echoed out of the shadows:

I am in my deep thoughts while I am bording my flight. The flight attendant offered me a glass of cold water as she noticed my uncomfortable state. I was lost in a moment. I could not find a word to describe my feeling for today. It is as if I am walking towards uncertain things that I know I ended up losing. It's funny how I look back and easily remember how bewail I am with my current situation in life. During the flight, I am not at ease. I always thought about what would my shitty ex husband will do to my precious little one. The flight is not that long however I felt like it has been a century, sitting on this chair near the window, not hearing any words from home.

“So… pro tip: volunteering smart beats being shoved into ‘One Bullet.’” The stall for ONE BULLET was… unsettling. A single, gleaming pistol rested under a glass dome, spotlit. Next to it, a target that was just a stylized human silhouette. The tagline flashed: ONE SHOT. ONE KILL. ONE WINNER. ALL LOSERS ERASED. My stomach clenched. “No,” I said. “Not that one. Ever.” “Agreed,” Corvin said. He turned slowly, taking in the rest of the menu with narrowed eyes.

Total darkness. A single gunshot rang out.

Athur told me that Junior was the one who got jealous, who treated him like the enemy. “Listen to me.” Viktor grabs me by the shoulders giving me such a fright that my whole body start to shake and darkness closes in on me. This cannot be happening now. “Arthur is a very skilled sniper. He can shoot a grown man and his wife from miles away, through a window, while they are sitting at the dinner table, without any harm coming to the 13-year old girl joining them.

She nodded and turned her attention away from me. My phone chirped. I took it out from my pocket and saw a text message from Jerome. Jerome: Boss, you need to see this. He sent me a picture and my eyes widened in fear and sadness when I opened it. “Maya!” I almost yelled but I remained calm. In the picture she had several wounds on her body, a gunshot wound to her head and some on her stomach. Her clothes were torn and her eyes stayed open with no life in them. Another text came in.

The gunshot wound was roughly stitched up and it was bleeding also. ''Why didn't you tell me?" She was smacking him without knowing that he was hurt. "I am used to such wounds. Don't trouble yourself." He carelessly said. Her eyes roamed on his body and it was covered with the similar marks of gunshot and cuts from knives. Some of them were hiding under the ink of tattoos while some were staining his perfect skin.

I hopped onto one of the stools and Anita followed suit while waving the male bartender over "What can I get you, ladies?" He asked "I'll have a cocktail. What about you, Camie?" Anita asked "I'll have five shots of vodka" I told the bartender and Anita's eyes widened slightly "Five shots of vodka? That's way over your limit, you know you're a lightweight" I waved her off "I'll be fine, don't worry" Anita cocked her head to the side like she was hesitant but eventually shrugged. The bartender got to work and handed us our drinks in record time

Enzo’s eyes went wide, pleading and begging me to spare him. “I’ll count to six and each time I will shoot if you’re lucky and you talk before the bullet gets fired then you get to keep your unborn children if not good for me I don’t have to worry about killing mini Enzo’s” I say nonchalantly. “One” I say sitting cross-legged. “Boss please” he whimpers crying as snorts run down his nose. “Wrong answer” I say pulling the trigger. Lucky for him his balls are still safe. “Two” I continue not wasting any more time.

"Right. Marcie and I are divorced…" I watched his happy expression, thinking, "I've loved him for many years, but I never received his affection in return." He staggered around the room and mindlessly took a glass of wine someone handed him. He swigged the contents. Drops of the liquid streamed down from his lips to his neck. Sonya bit her lip at Owen's sensual and seductive presence. "Alright now." She interfered at the right time, intercepting the alcohol that others had extended to Owen. "We'll call it a night. Owen's drunk. I'll take him with me to get some rest."