Novel & Cerita Puck Kills Subaru

His beautiful, carbon-fiber stick, the one he'd used for every game this season, the one his mother had given him for his twenty-fifth birthday—splintering against Sebastian's shin guard. Shards of composite material spun through the air like frozen confetti. The puck, knocked loose by the hit, slid past the defenseman's desperate dive. Past the goalie's outstretched glove. Over the goal line in a slow, mocking arc. Tie game. Three seconds left. The buzzer for regulation sounded before Damian hit the ice.

I quickly glance at him to see he is gritting his teeth so tight, he probably broke a molar, “You didn’t go out with Chris, you went to get a car, and why would I do that?” “You are familiar with punishing a sub and all of the rest that follows right?” “Punishing a sub?” I quirk a brow, keeping my eyes on the road, it was a small town with majority of its occupants at the picnic, but I was still getting used to this car, it resembled the other one, but the other one sure dusts this one in many aspects.

The heavy V8 engine roared, a guttural, mechanical scream that drowned out the wind. We didn't swerve. Enzo drove straight at the "V" of the pickup trucks. CRUNCH. The armored bumper hit the rear quarter-panel of the lead truck with the force of a wrecking ball. I was thrown forward against the seatbelt, the nylon webbing cutting into my shoulder as the four-ton SUV forced its way through the gap. Metal shrieked against metal. Glass showered the hood like diamonds. We burst through the blockade, the Suburban fishtailing for a terrifying second before the tires found purchase on the gravel shoulder.

What kind of weapon? "Submachine guns! They have submachine guns! They almost killed me!" Charlotte pointed to the street outside the door, "My car was shot to pieces!" "Damn it, that's not right!" The useless Puppy jumped up from the table and said, "Where could those losers from Sledgehammer get a submachine gun?" “Do you know the contact person?”

I reached the puck, settled it on my blade, and looked up. The net was wide open. Just then, I spotted Ryder coming at me from the flank. It was now or never. Not giving him the opportunity to intercept me, I channeled every ounce of my frustration, my fear, and my strange, twisted fascination with this man into my arms. I wound up for a slap shot, a powerhouse move that usually left goalies shaking. I swung. *CRACK.* The sound echoed through the entire arena, louder than the crowd, louder than the buzzer. My stick didn't hit the puck. Ryder’s body hit me at the exact moment of impact. The carbon fiber shaft snapped in two, the top half flying into the air.

Catherine, recovering her composure, leaned out the window, firing precise shots from a prototype sonic pistol, the high-frequency blasts causing the pursuing drivers to swerve wildly as their eardrums screamed in protest. Marcus, acting as rear gunner, discovered a hidden compartment under the seat filled with chilled champagne. He began popping the corks and firing them like mortars at the pursuing vehicles with surprising accuracy. One cork hit a driver squarely in the forehead, causing his car to swerve and crash into a fountain depicting a water nymph. “This is the most unprofessional operation I have ever been a part of!” Marcus bellowed, a wide, manic grin on his face as he took aim w

He managed to get into the car. Creature: Try... So, he tried to swerve, whatever. Policeman: I'm going to kill him. A series of shots began in the darkness... Hikary: I'm going to kill him. Creature 2: Try your luck. The car was used to smash one of the creatures into a wall. Tsuki: He didn't... When another creature charged and cornered a car. Hikary: You can't... Gunshot sounds, when they were laughing...