Pulp Fiction Paul Novels & Stories

The car peeled out, the engine roaring as we sped away from the chaos. "What the fuck was that?" Vinnie yelled once we were blocks away. "You put her in the middle of a goddamn gunfight!" "It worked," Paul said calmly. "We got what we needed." He sounded like a dick, but I knew he was not only tired of all this bullshit but just as scared as the rest of us. "That was a direct cousin to Killian," Paul added. "We've got him. He'll talk. He's worth more than all the others combined."

Paul frowned, firing another bullet at me, and I moved to the side, avoiding the hit, but the bullet managed to graze my arms. Groaning as blood trickled down from my right arm, I discreetly pulled out the Lupara that was hidden in my windbreaker. “Paul can't die because only he knows where that crazy animal, Fernandez, is.” I mumbled, Reminding myself not to act rashly. "You won't leave here alive, Mr. Either you or I. And right now, it's obvious that you're going down," Paul said, firing at me. Calculating and predicting wrongly, he shot at me, and I pulled the trigger, giving him a total hit on his knees.

said Paul. “Interesting.Now we will have to hand you over to the cops. You know that you committed a crime right? At least do this for your family.” Said Katleho. The thief nodded, tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t want to go to prison, but he knew that it was the right thing to do. Paul asked to meet with his family first, but while on his way there, he was shot on his forehead twice,he fell to the ground and died instantly.

"Otherwise i am not here to get beaten by you all i am here to take my money" Paul hit his jaw with a hard punch. Zach stumble back and his grip losen. "Fuck" "What's wrong" jack friend asked him. Then Paul enters the room. There were 6 in total. "Is he?" Jack friend recognise the Paul, jack nods his head. "Give my money back" paul grabs jack collar. "Who are you?" Jack acted "Don't act? If you don't know me then why are you running away from me?You are the one who took my money and ran away in the bike. " Paul grab him more tighter

The two men he saw are Paul who is wearing a while polo shirt and Blood who is wearing a black polo and white suit while holding his gun down and smirking at Orpel. “I should feel offended that you don’t know us, but that’s fine it’s just showing how dumb you are.” Blood said to Orpel. One of Orpel’s men is about to shoot at Paul and Blood but Paul is fast to shoot the man first making it collapse on the ground, dead.

None of them spoke. “Who are you?” Paul asked, his voice trembling. “What do you want? We can talk this through. I have money. How much do you want? Just say it! I’ll give you whatever you want!” But Paul received no answer. The only sound he could hear was the click of weapons being raised. Paul had no time to dodge. Everything happened too fast. He felt a sharp pain in his chest before he could think of anything else. His body was thrown backwards.

Paul says, hand tapping on the table in front of him. "It's about the raid we had eleven days ago." He starts and Paul gritts his teeth. "Go on," he urges with a threat in his voice. The man swallows before carrying on, "We found his weakness, the girl that was stabbed that night." At this, Paul E. stops tapping on the desk, eyes filled with glee. A cruel smile appears on his face, one which promises horror and more dangerous things to come. "Time to shift target for once, this is starting to get interesting." He says with an evil chuckle, getting to his feet.

Wechuli begged. Paul smirked and shook his head. He turned to the henchmen and signalled them that they should leave. Without a word, Paul followed them behind with his head bend. He was crying! ****** They entered the car and left, Paul seated at the back of the car while the henchmen in front. He was staring out in the window. His mind in the whirlpool. Paul's thoughts were interrupted when a call came into his cellphone. He recognized the person who was calling, even though it was a new number.

“This situation with Cara could escalate. I don’t want things to get out of hand.” I crossed my arms, watching him carefully. “So what’s really going on, Paul? Why are you so invested in this?” Paul leaned against the table, still holding his glass of water. His gaze never shifted from me as he took a deliberate sip, his eyes narrowing as if daring me to believe him. "See?" he said, lowering the glass. "It’s clean. No tricks, Sibel."

“Two pints of Wellington Bomber, please, Bob.” We found a deserted corner and Paul studied some papers for a while repeatedly scowling away, “This is an extremely grave matter,” into the middle distance from time to time, before his craggy face broke into an understanding smile when he looked up at me. “How did you know?” He asked suddenly. “And before you say anything I’ve read your statement. There is one vital piece missing.” “And what is that?” I raised my slippery glass carefully and took a mouthful of froth from the top. I could feel that it left a white moustache traced across my upper lips, so I wiped it away with a napkin.