Pulp Fiction Trunk Shot Novels & Stories

Ryan called when he arrived at the shooting range. “I’m not really into guns,” Trunks said, adjusting his glasses. “But you’re a rich man,” Alejandro replied, aiming downrange. “You need to know how to defend yourself.” He fired. The bullet struck near the center, the sharp crack echoing through the room. Trunks flinched. “Wow! That was great, bro!” Ryan laughed. Alejandro smirked, then offered Trunks a cigarette. “Want one?” “You know I don’t smoke,” Trunks said softly.

…Tyler POV… They say that life flashes before your eyes when you are near death. I might not be near death, but something has just flashed before my eyes. I can see as Brooke is knocked backward, Clara has just shot her in the shoulder. I can see her cringe as she tries to get back on her knees. But Clara’s gun is still drawn on her. Without even hesitating another moment, I watch in slow motion as Brooke squeezes the trigger of her Ruger. In less than two seconds, Clara drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

I so casually take my Ruger from the back of my pants where I tucked it, and before he can say another word, I pop a bullet in his foot. “Aaahhh, goddammit.” I hear his scream of agony filter to every corner. “Are you fucking crazy? I burst out in a cackle; my god, I don’t know where I find out, but all that I can get out between the pleasure of my laughter, “Now, I am asking you again. Where is Trinity” “And I am telling you again,” he so bravely stares me straight into the eyes. “I am not telling you.” “Well, then you won't mind if I shoot you in the other foot.”

It’s plain to see he is as high as a kite. “Yeah, who wants to know?” I take out the Maxim 9 pistol and shoot him between the eyes by the time he finishes his sentence. He dies instantly, his body looking like it folds in on itself. His eyes remain open, staring blankly and the hole between his eyes trickles only a tiny amount of blood. “No one, not anymore, you piece of shit.” As I drive the car to the compound, I turn on the tape deck, and sing along to Julio Inglesias. Once I am done here, I will get my ice cream and decompression sex from my beautiful wife.

It was a full-on shoot-out and I was right in the middle of it, Literally. I felt a hand on my arm and I was being pulled to my feet, I worried inside it was one of the bad guys but as soon as I opened my eyes, I met Alexanders. ‘Get me out of here!’. I begged, As soon as the words left my mouth, He pulled me through the gunfire and behind the safety of Ron and the others. I looked over my shoulder as Alex carried on pulling me in the direction of the outside and before everything was out of sight, I saw Pulp drop to the floor, clearly dead.

“The truth is bitter, isn’t it?” His grin falters. He opens his mouth to speak. I don’t let him finish. The first shot goes straight through his chest, not the heart. Not yet. He screams. The second takes his spleen. The third, his kidney. He’s still alive when he hits the floor. Gurgling. Shaking. Dying slowly enough to feel every second of it. Good. I turn away before the light leaves his eyes. “Clean this mess up,” I tell Adriano. He nods, already moving.

“End it.” Rhea pushes off the wall with a slow, satisfied smile, she's been waiting for some action all night. She draws her pistol in one fluid motion, the metal catching the swinging light as she steps forward. She stops beside Felix’s chair, tilts her head, and looks down at him like he’s already a corpse. “You're a bastard, Felix. Thanks for selling us out.” The shot is sharp and clean, the bullet immediately piercing his forehead. Felix’s body jerks once against the restraints, then slumps forward, lifeless. A thin line of blood runs from the neat hole in his forehead, dripping onto the concrete to join the rest.

I pulled the trigger. The shot was deafening up close. Joaquin’s head snapped back, blood and brain matter exploding across the wall behind him. His body jerked violently in my grip, then went limp. I dropped him like the trash he was, his corpse crumpling to the floor in a growing pool of blood. Quino was next. The younger Brillantes tried to run, but Nero cut him off with a precise shot to the leg, dropping him to his knees. Quino screamed in pain, clutching his thigh as blood poured between his fingers.

I picked my guns on the floor where it fell after it was kicked off my hand by the tall man standing behind Lucio. “Who are these guys?” I posed, bending to slip my gun into my pant. “Frankly speaking, I have never set my eyes on these men you killed here.” Lucio said with a sort of confusion in his eyes. There were about six corpses of men that came fully armed, lying around in the warehouse. I had shot them and dug my bullets in vital parts of their body, such that they were not spare a chance to blink before their lives evaporated from them, and their body went cold.

”And then you opened your mouth and spoke about Rook. His breathing is hitched and uneven now. “You never should have done that,” I say simply. Then, without hesitation, I pull my gun and fire. The shot rings through the warehouse, and Declan’s body slumps forward, lifeless. I let go of his hair, letting him drop face-first onto the floor, his blood pooling beneath him. Jaxon kicks his shoulder slightly before looking up. “Want this one dumped, or do we leave him out for his guys to find?”