Russian Roulette Novels & Stories

She was right, and it hurt. My chin trembled, and they just watched us like we were in a reality TV show. “Now, let’s have some fun, shall we?” she told her boards or whoever they are. When she nodded at the man behind Spade, my back instantly stiffened. “What are you doing?” The panic was thick in my voice. “Give him a gun, Razic,” he ordered the dark-eyed man, and that asshole acted without hesitation. My pulse started to race as I felt like I knew where this stupid game was going. I’d seen it a thousand times. She was about to make us do Russian roulette.

“Have you ever felt drawn to follow a true man? A man of principle, of greatness—someone who gives purpose to your life? Loyalty isn’t about who came first. It’s about who deserves to be followed.” He pressed the barrel of his gun under Tullio’s jaw, forcing him to look at the screen. “Tell them, Tullio. If Basim and Haroun walked in this room right now, and I put this gun in your hand—would you pull the trigger? Kill one of them so you could live?” Tullio’s swollen eyes flickered, desperation leaking through. “You’d… let me go? Just like that?” “Yes,” Raffaele said calmly. “A life for a life. Just like that. We’ll make it simple—Russian roulette. You don’t ev

He took a little drag and threw the rest on the floor, he stepped on it twisting his leg sideways to make sure it was properly quenched. "So, you now pay taxes and all that?" Tom said with amusement on his face. "Yeah, what can a man do to have peace" Tom trailed Steel as they walked back to the wall of guns, Steel turned a cupboard that was just beneath the wall, it had four openings two on the front and two on the back also,. He brought out an MD-850 pure steel. "Here we go" he said handing the gun to Tom, sniffing in very hard. Tom held the gun felt iy material, he had to know. a lot of gun to thrive in his kind of job.

I leveled my weapon, my breathing entirely still, and squeezed the trigger three times. Pfft. Pfft. Pfft. The rounds caught the left guard in the unarmored meat of his thigh and the soft tissue of his lower throat, bypassing his ballistic plate. He folded instantly, his carbine slipping from his fingers as he collapsed against a rusted steel drum, his hands clawing weakly at his neck. To my right, the guard I had swept was scrambling frantically to his feet, his face smeared with mud as he reached wildly for the sidearm at his hip.

I had my finger along the frame of the pistol—not on the trigger yet because if I hit it too soon, it could end up badly. Marcus was enjoying it. I could see it in his face—those smug little smiles every time Katherine whimpered, every time Dacre’s hand shook as he lifted the revolver for that sick game. Russian roulette. Marcus had always been fond of control, but this… this was something else. He wanted it to hurt. He wanted blood. I couldn’t stay still. I couldn’t let it go on any longer. But if I moved now, if I jumped and missed, Katherine would be lost forever. And Dacre... He could be hurt.

I don’t scream at him. He turns into the building without a word. Hopefully, he— Gunshots ring out, far closer now. A bullet lodges in the cracked wood next to my head. I flatten myself against an exterior wall. Someone yells something in Russian. Six bullets in the chamber. Inhale. Know you want to take this life. I lean out, spot a Russian behind a fallen row of mail cubbies, and fire. He spins away, his shoulder spouting blood. “No time to waste!” I call as I duck back. “Move when you see an opening.”

But I couldn’t lift my head to watch him approaching. He stopped right in front of me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the table. The sound of metal reached my ears as half a dozen bronze bullets scattered onto the wooden table. I watched as Caeson reached for one of them. “Are you familiar with the term, ‘Russian roulette’?” My gaze slid up to him swiftly in horror as he spun the silver cylinder.

And the look of disgust in his eyes. “Let’s play a little game,” he growled, a menacing smile on his face. Slowly he pulled the gun from my temple while Roberto and Massimo held their aim on me. He opened the cylinder of the revolver, eyeing it, counting the number of bullets before spinning the cylinder and flicking it closed. “Russian roulette. Shall we?” He pressed the barrel of the revolver back to my temple. The whole scene played out like it was happening to someone else; like it was a bad movie. “Should I kill you now?” he bellowed, rage clear on his face. “I should have expected something

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.