Pulp Fiction Trunk Shot Novels & Stories

Then he got out and started walking toward the nameless pimp. He approached cautiously, keeping his hands in plain view where the other could see them. The pimp recognized him when he got closer. They talked, and the man produced a vial and tapped a little white mound of powder out onto the back of Tommy’s hand, which Truitt snorted up through a snip of beverage straw offered to him. He clenched his teeth when the blast of coke hit, feeling himself sober slightly, coldly. The pimp laughed.

was. Then, in a move that shocked us all, the banker, Marcus Thorne, did something completely unexpected. He did not act like a frightened victim. He moved like a trained killer. He drove his elbow back, hard, into Marco’s ribs, making the older man grunt in pain. In that split second of distraction, Thorne pulled a small, hidden pistol from inside his own jacket and fired. The shot was deafening in the small room. Marco cried out in pain and collapsed to the floor, clutching a bleeding wound in his stomach.

I see, there’s no point in discussion, I was expecting this because I was in a shitty mood of killing someone. I tear the file and documents into pieces, throwing at Mark Devis’s face. I got up and pointed the rifle at his forehead. “You and your men have to die here because you all have fucking seen my face.” I sadistically smiled as I pulled the trigger of rifle. Blood splattered at me, as I emptied the three bullets into Mark’s forehead. Creating a hole into his skull from which loops of blood covered brain seeped out. His eyes were wide open even after getting shot dead, while his kneeling body plopped on the ground.

"What? Do I look cool?" "Maybe..." Collin lifted the gun that was pointed at Rig and fires it. "Ooen your eyes, you're still alive. A loud thud from behind Rig made him turn around, there was the talkative crook lying in the floor, lifeless. "Yeah, I'm alive." ■■■

We could hear a chorus of sounds that made my ears curl and my stomach knot and when we heard a desperate scream become immediately cut off, we rushed in, guns leveled as we aimed at any male we could see. I could see a large table with our main target on top of it; his naked body in a compromised position with a female under him convulsing as I silver dagger stuck out of her heart. I saw Jason Frost shift in an instant and charge the fucker, his wolf catapulting off the head of a standing male target and scalping the bastard as his claws dug in before he leapt. In a sailing motion that seemed captured by time, his mouth opened as his teeth gleamed in the low light as they wrapped around the

Before the second guy could grab his gun off the ground, Ralph was on him, throwing jabs left and right, to his face, belly, and sides. I felt like I was watching some kind of action movie take place right before my eyes. Just when I think Ralph had the upper hand, the other guy moved, raising his gun in the air, and right at Ralph. I opened my mouth to warn him, the words getting caught in my throat a second too late. The bastard pulled the trigger, the bullet leaving the chamber faster than I could track it. My eyes widen as Ralph’s body jerked, the bullet hitting him in the abdomen. His hand came up to cover the wound, then he was looking at me.

I pulled the trigger. The shot was a deafening blast in the confined space, it echoed and re-echoed through the factory, drowning all sound. Silas’s eyes widened, a look of shocked disbelief on his face, before his body went limp. He collapsed, crumpling to the floor with a dull thud. A dark stain bloomed across his chest, spreading fast, soaking his shirt.

In a rapid and quick motion, Fernando used the butt of his rifle to hit the head of the remaining two gangsters and they fell to the floor, groaning and moaning in pain with their palms covering the hit spot as blood trickled down their faces The gun shot and masculine groans alerted 'Scar Face' who had previously been looking round the room for clues. On hearing these, he immediately turned back and his eyes met with gory scene. 'Scar Face' immediately brought out two pistols from his back pockets, one from each pocket then pointed them at Fernando.

I pulled out the gun, aimed, and fired. The first shot hit Rafael in the head, making his head burst open like a split watermelon. He convulsed and jerked violently before falling to the back. Meanwhile, the Underboss only came to his senses just then, but Don had already grabbed the steak knife from the table and stabbed it right into his throat. "Finish with another shot," Don said coldly. I fired another shot right at Rafael's heart next. "Let's go." As the car door closed on us, I smelled the strong smell of gunpowder on my hands that wouldn't stop shaking.

The shot split the silence, and half the man’s skull sprayed across the wall, painting the marble in a fresh arc of red. The second man stumbled closer, firing wild, his shots tearing into the plaster. Alessio ducked low, his body a predator’s coil, then rose fast. He shoved his pistol under the man’s chin and pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through his mouth and out the top of his skull, his body collapsing with a grotesque twitch.