School Shooting Fiction Novels & Stories

The gun clattered to the floor, and I rushed forward, grabbing Carmen and pulling her to safety. Fiona screamed, thrashing as Jacob restrained her, her eyes filled with rage and desperation. “This isn’t over, Sean! I’ll never let you go!” The warehouse echoed with the chaos of the struggle. The sound of gunfire, shouts, and the clattering of metal filled the air as Fiona was restrained. But amidst everything, I didn’t notice the sharp, burning pain in my stomach until I felt the warmth of my own blood spreading across my shirt. I looked down, confusion and shock mingling with the realization that I had been shot.

she laughed like someone who has lost some useful screws in her head. I scoffed as she spouted those words. I reached out for the gun I took from Lucian's trousers when he was rushing earlier. I wasn't so shocked to see a gun in his trousers, but I didn't want him to find out that I saw it so I decided to keep it under the blanket. Fully aware that the gun was loaded I smirked, and Claudia was shocked because I felt relaxed. I haven't shot a real gun before, but I was part of a shooting team in highschool, so I was a little bit used to shooting.

“I didn’t get the chance to be the one to kill your father, but at least I get to shoot his daughter.” I shut my eyes again, preparing myself to die, as much as one could. 'Goodbye, Mom and Dad. I love you and will see you soon.' A gunshot rang out in the tiny room, hurting my ears. I flinched, expecting to feel the bullet go through my chest. But I didn’t feel anything. How was that possible? Was Lorenzo such a lousy shooter that he couldn’t hit an unmoving target five feet away from him? No, that couldn’t be it, he was a cop…

I roll over with the pillow over my head. I toss and turn for hours, and sometime after two in the morning, I sleep. I wake up feeling groggy and decide to take a jog to try to shake the heaviness out of my body. I stay in good shape to fight and earn money. I plan to shoot Frank with my Smith and Wesson .38 Special. Five shots that pack a punch. The gun is small and easy to conceal. If I can’t kill Frank in five shots, it’s because I’m already dead. Really though, I want to beat him to death and listen to him beg while I break every bone in his body.

I turned, pointed the gun at the man who brought the laptop, and fired. He didn’t even scream. It was quick. I shot the laptop next, I shot the air, I shot up into the sky, killing a bird that was flying overhead. The feathers scattered and fell on me. I let out a loud, inhuman and guttural scream. My frame shook hard. I fired until the clip was empty. Then I reloaded and kept shooting. I turned to the dead man, lying on the floor, and I fired more rounds into his bullet-ridden body. The air reeked of gunpowder and blood.

The clinking of metal echoed in the dimly lit room as he struggled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “You’ll pay for this, Falcon. One way or another, you will pay for this,” he spat, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and fear. I pulled my gun from my holster. I aimed directly at him, my finger steady on the trigger, and fired a single shot. Both of them let out an ear-piercing scream. In an instant, he went still, his body slumping in the chair. “You're a psycho!” the mother shouted, her voice a mixture of disbelief and fury. Yet it only served to amuse me. I turned my gaze towards her, the gun still raised, my expression unwavering.

I felt his body tense against mine, his breath quickening. "Stay back!" he shouted, adjusting his grip on the gun, digging it harder into my skin. Without warning, he pointed the weapon skyward and fired. The silver bullet streaked through the air with a distinctive whine, and the campus erupted in fresh chaos. Werewolves dove for cover, howls of alarm punctuated the air, and my beta enforcers reached for their concealed weapons. Students scattered like leaves in a storm. "No!" the rogue wolf shouted, pressing the gun back to my temple. "No weapons or she dies!"

My knees want to give. I think of breathing fresh air, of a laugh that used to mean safety, of Matteo’s face when he gets what he wants. The image is obscene and bright. The room shrinks to the barrel of my gun, the smell of hot metal, the tiny hard ration of light between Flora’s eyes. Her mouth is set like a promise. The leather of her shoe creaks as she shifts weight. My grip is a small, dangerous thing. I don’t want to pull the trigger. My throat closes; something like a sob tries to climb up and die there. Everything that raised me presses down lessons in survival, the sharp calculus of who to keep and who to cut away.

Anna's POV I pulled the trigger. The gunshot cracked through the air, loud and fast. The recoil jolted my arm, but I held firm. The driver jerked, a red stain spreading across his chest, and he toppled over the side, and fell into the river. His boat swerved, crashing into the one beside it. Chaos erupted—shouts, splintering wood. I fired again. Another man fell, clutching his shoulder. The smell of gunpowder stung my nose, sharp and bitter.

The shotgun skittered out of my reach. As I scrambled for it, I saw Noah face off against Hennessy. Their guns locked, their eyes blazing with fury. "It ends now," Noah growled. Hennessy smiled, her eyes glinting with madness. "It ends when I say it does." The shotgun was within my grasp. I raised it, taking aim. But before I could pull the trigger, Liam lunged at me, his eyes wild. The warehouse exploded into a cacophony of gunfire and screams. I fought to keep my footing, the shotgun slipping from my grasp.