Pulp Fiction: Jules And Vincent Novels & Stories

Vincent’s voice was low and full of amusement but there was nothing playful about how he repeatedly punched Santiago in the gut. Santiago screamed as pain shot up his spine. His face was bloody and bruised up as Vincent hit him everywhere. “You will pay for this!” Santiago spat, his voice hoarse but filled with venom. Vincent merely chuckled, shaking the pain from his knuckles as he straightened. “Still thinking about doing something reckless? That’s cute.” His eyes gleamed with amusement as he reached for something on the nearby table. The cold glint of a knife caught Santiago’s attention, and for the first time, fear filled his eyes. His breathing grew heavy as he struggled against the rop

We still got it. But victory is short lived when I hear Vincent cry out. I turn towards the sound of his short and he's on his knees, crimson blooming across his chest, but he's got Lupe in a death grip. They struggle, and I watch as Vincent drives his knife up under Lupe's ribs. The rival president's eyes go wide, then vacant. When the echo of the last gunshot fades, we're the only ones left standing. Vincent slumps against a pillar, breathing hard.

Oh no! "It looks like we have new prey!" said his other friend. They both stood up to face Vincent, who was carrying a piece of iron that he covered with his t-shirt. “What are you guys? Who are you?” Vincent asked in surprise and confusion. The two men walked towards him, while Vincent initially did not move from his position. But after they got closer and Vincent could see their faces, he walked back. "You..." said Vincent, pointing to two men with traces of blood on their lips and chins. The two men were pickpockets he had bitten before while helping Priest Zachary.

I gritted my teeth and I was about to walk out when Veronica stepped inside the kitchen. "Whoa, what is happening here?" she asked then looked at me and Conrad. When her eyes landed on my neck she held my hand and forcefully removed it from my neck. "You're bleeding," she uttered but she didn't look shocked at all as if she is already used to seeing blood well what would I expect to a Mafia? Killing is not a big deal to them. "Shit!" I cursed when Veronica pressed my wound. "It's not a deep cut," she announced. I looked at her and glare but she didn't care at all.

The three dots danced on the screen. Declan: why? what happened? Jules: just went to a guys place to get my cherry popped and he refused to put a condom on Declan: what???? tell me you didn’t do it Jules: of course I didn’t Declan: remind me again how this is my fault Jules: you told me to find a rando to fuck and I did and now I have no money for food He sent a GIF of someone tilting their head in confusion.

I groped Raging Bull’s back for a gun, shot Bloody Knuckles without delay, and shot Raging Bull’s liver next. Blood instantly oozed into my thin white shirt. I grunt, pushing the still groaning Raging Bull off of me. ‘Fuck, he’s heavy.’ The third bulky guy seemed to have a working brain. He was halfway to the door, dragging an unconscious Juaquin, wise enough to leave the room. Dumping Juaquin’s body, he pulled his gun, but not fast enough since my bullet hit him first. The hole between his eyes was still dancing with smoke as he dropped like a log onto the ground.

"Ginny? What are you doing out here?" The small, sleepy voice cut through the air. We both froze. Raphael didn’t pull away instantly, he let his thumb linger on my lip for one more agonizing second before slowly, calmly, releasing my face. I stepped back, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest as I turned toward the glass doors. Jules was standing there, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand. She looked between me—flushed, breathless, and trembling—and Raphael, who stood there in his black tactical gear, looking like a god of death caught in the moonlight.