Russian Roulette Lyrics Novels & Stories

“Let it go.” I considered it for a moment, then pulled the trigger. Click. Nothing. The Russian froze. His breathing turned shaky, his chest rising and falling fast. For a second, he looked confused. Then it hit him that he was still alive. His eyes darted between me and the gun, his body stiff, waiting for what would happen next. A drop of sweat rolled down his face. No one moved. My men stayed still. The Bratva stayed still. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see if I’d pull the trigger again.

Even the men seem to brace themselves. Roman lifts the gun and points it directly at Paula’s forehead. Then he smiles. A calm, terrifying smile. “Let’s play a game, Paula,” he says softly. “I like games and I hope you do, too. And this one… this one happens to be my favorite.” My breath stops. “I hope you love Russian Roulette.”

I did not hesitate. I exhaled. I squeezed the trigger. Bang. The sound was deafening in the tiled room. The Russian’s head snapped back. A red mist sprayed the white cabinets. He crumbled. He fell backward. He pulled Chloe with him. They hit the floor in a tangle of limbs and lace. Silence returned. The only sound was the buzzing light and the drip, drip of Luca’s blood. I walked forward. I kicked the Russian’s gun away. I put a second bullet in his chest to be sure.

DPOV Song: Venus in Furs by The Velvet Underground It was surreal being in that tavern. It reeked of stale ale and sour wine. After I received the news of Rose's death, I spent several nights there trying to drown out anything and everything that reminded me of her. That was until Vasilisa literally slapped me with a hard dose of reason.

Dante opened the box, and the Russian roulette was exposed. Nero picked up the gun before he sat on the bed and spinned the cylinder. “Ciao, bellezza. [Hello Beauty]” Nero’s hoarse voice made a shiver run down Lena’s spine with her gaze focused on the gun in the man’s hand. “Come ti chiami, habibi? [What’s your name, Habibi]?” he asked, but Lena couldn't understand a word he was saying. A creepy smile formed on Nero’s face before he pointed at the space before him.

The guy screams and says, “ты умрешь.” "You will die, your piece of shit! Do you think you can scare me? I am Lucifer, your worst nightmare.” His eyes darken, grabbing the guy by his throat and choking him. With one hand lifts him and throws him on the floor. “I can make your death pain accessible or inflict severe pain if you do not tell me the truth.” Lighting a cigar, Lucifer slowly burns it on the Russian guy's chest. “Talk you, bloody weakling!” The Russian replies, “иди на хуй себя."

"I take a step and the ground quakes" "They come at me with their full strength" "But still I'm someone that they can't take" "Ain't no one that can catch me slipping" "I can't keep count of the a** I'm kicking" "If this was a game they'd say I'm cheating" "Cus they brought guns but their shots are missing"

It was brought to him, and he filled it with one cartridge before locking it back. “I love to play Russian Roulette. It's the truest meaning of a game of life and death.” He announced, looking at the revolver as though he held one for the first time. “Any pull of my trigger could have your life off in a heartbeat… Why isn't he talking? Oh. There's tape on his mouth. Go rip it off.” Again, the same man went to remove the tape, and took it off with the utmost brutality, causing their victim to cry out so loud that it hurt my ears.

Instead, she was being hurried off to a meeting at a place that gave her the heebie-jeebies with a group of people she was pretty sure might be certifiably insane. “It’s okay,” Lyric shrugged. “I don’t mind just listening to the music. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” One of Ru’s favorite songs, “Revelations” by Audioslave, was playing, and she hadn’t even noticed. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, forcing a smile. “You know, listening to the lyrics of this song, it’s kinda fitting,” Lyric half laughed. “Especially the part about knowing what he’s dreaming and holding the keys and the rules. I guess I never thought about that before.”

“Marco, I can’t forgive you,” I said quietly, “so I’m leaving the final decision to God. “A Russian roulette revolver has six chambers but three bullets. We take turns pointing it at each other’s heads and pulling the trigger. If, in the end, neither of us dies, that means God has forgiven you on my behalf. Then, I’ll follow His will and forgive you one last time. “But if either one of us dies, then the game ends, and we’re both finally free.”