Pulp Fiction Trunk Shot Novels & Stories

We hit the ground hard, rolling toward the dock's edge, guns pressed close. His revolver jammed against my chest, finger whitening on the trigger. I saw the fury in his eyes, the promise of ending me for good. But I was faster—years of street fights and hits honing my reflexes. I jammed my pistol under his chin, the barrel digging into soft flesh. “For touching Delilah.” I growled, and pulled the trigger. The shot exploded upward, his head snapping back as blood and bone erupted from the top of his skull. His body went limp, eyes glazing over in an instant, revolver clattering to the dock.

His groin leaps for joy eager to force itself into her ass hole. Using his right hand to release his rooster off his pants, the grip on his left hand eased a little, giving her freedom to strike. He was about thrusting in when she elbowed him, giving him a brief head cut. He staggered backward; his d**k bouncing in the process. She pulled out a little pistol, which was stuck to her thigh and fastened with a cloth-like rope. Cocking the gun, she fired two straight bullets into his chest, making him groan at the bang as he drop to the ground; dead.

One hand on his shoulder, blood pouring through his fingers. Bright red. No, this can't be happening. He didn't get shot, right? God, please—this isn’t real. Hot tears stream down my face before I realize it. He sways slightly as he tries to get up with his gun. His eyes are deadly and aimed at the attacker. Before the man can fire again, Tristan pulls the trigger—countless times, I lose track—and the man drops dead. So many sounds fill my ears, but I'm too far gone. The only thing I see is blood. So much blood.

It’d be a win-win because at least something good would come out of this afternoon. But Zio Marco is faster. His gun barks twice, and crimson blooms on the man’s neck. Then I sigh and shoot the other nephew’s hand, the one that had already gone for his gun. One bullet to Vito’s head, another to the nephew’s heart. And the afternoon is over. Cleaning up dead bodies isn’t my job, so I walk out of there. I’m pissed, that much is obvious to me, but the reason behind it doesn’t come as easy.

The drug dealer and his men were sentenced to death for their crimes, while Madison received a life sentence for hiring a hitman. Officer Wright filled Zack in on everything, and passed him the tapes they found at the drug den. They contained footage of the drug dealers torturing and humiliating me. I stayed by Zack's side as he watched every single tape. By the end, he had completely lost it. He was no longer the heroic forensic pathologist everyone admired. Instead, he turned into a disheveled maniac, wandering around asking everyone if they'd seen his younger sister. I stayed by Zack's side, until he was hit by a speeding car and died.

In a speed of light, Raphael pushed his gun into the mouth of the co-pilot and signalled to Dante to do the same to his accomplice. They both quaked in their boots, their body trembling so rigorously. "See you in hell" he said to them before him and Dante both pulled the trigger. It was such a disturbing and grisly sight to witness. Their blood splattered from their heads, some flesh could be spotted too. I felt like throwing up but controlled myself noticing how calm everyone was like nothing happened. "Diego Perez is next!"

my lip are shaking, my hands are shaking, tears flowing uncontrollably, my heart aching beyond words,” “Catalina, you need to die with your fiancé,” “Papa d ...” ‘BANG’ I look around my body to see if I’m shot, I hear sometimes you don’t realize you have been shot due to the adrenaline rush or something like that, Stiliyan looks like he had been drained of every drop of blood from his body, as he slowly walked towards Diego dropping his guns, “ Diego! Papa! What the fuck, John,What have you done!! Papa!”

I can practically feel his eyes on my ass. Once the door has closed behind him, he says, “Look, I know you were probably just keeping up appearances for the clerk out there, but like I said, I’m down with him watching, but nothing else with him. And I only got like eighty bucks on me, so how much will that—” I am so over listening to this fuckroach talk. I whip out Borden from its sheath in my waistband and slit Doofus’s throat. It takes several seconds for him to realize what has happened, and when it finally fully settles in, he tries to scream, but only manages to let out a sloppy gurgle from the gash in his throat.

He widens his eyes, shivering badly. "C'mon Bob, be a good boy and do that, time is money.." I drawl. He shivers in fear as he types in his password and did as I asked. I smile and nod at one of my men. He goes to the back of the asshole. He covers his eyes tight and before he could scream slit his throat. Blood rushes out like water as he struggles to breath. I bring out my gun and shoot him twice on the head. His head slump on his chest.... blood pooling around. I pull out my gloves and hand the gun to my men. "No one fucks up with me and go scot free." I chuckle as I walk out of the slaughter house. . . . .

Luca let go of his legs, “He’ll bleed out.” “Nah,” I said, pulling a zippo from my pocket. “Not yet.” I popped the flame and pressed it against each letter, his skin sizzled and hissed. The blood sealed but the pain, yeah, that stayed. Raphael stepped forward, raising the camera. “Make sure you get the name,” I said, grinning. Click. One photo. Rino’s underboss, hanging like pork, chest flayed open with CAPONE scorched into his flesh.