Sniper Novels & Stories

When he saw that Ling Yingxuan was holding the Barrett with one hand, his heart suddenly sank! Barrett, heavy CPUR, a main sniper rifle, 12.7 mm in caliber, with a range of 7.6 meters. The overlord of sniper rifles! Very few people held a Barrett with one hand! Especially a woman! "Sorry, I let you down, I am not dead!”

The minute the thought crossed my mind I felt the invisible hands pinch my nipples it both shocked and stimulated me making me instantly wet and all too aware of what was apparently my reality. I looked at him and he smirked seductively. “Now get in the car, I’ll follow you back to your place.” He said grabbing my bags and walking over toward my rear door and setting my bags neatly on my back seat. I did as he commands and climbed into the driver seat, he walked back over to the driver side watching me very carefully as I buckled my seat and then closed the car door beside me. Maybe I was losing it or maybe for some reason an intergalactic god was somehow really my mate as he said before. He

She looks up defiantly at the person sitting in the centre at a big chair, and my fists clench seeing him. Ray The Beta/ Second in command of the hunter clan. He is famous for sleeping around with women for the fun of it, and his hatred towards female wolves, knows no boundaries at it. Thora refuses to lower her eyes, meeting his angry stare and I curse. What is this girl doing! Does she have a death wish! I try to send another mindlink to again find it blocked. Damn Thora! The man is not to be messed with! He can hurt you. "Come here"

he glances at his watch. The sniper begins to shoot.

I walk through the house and up to my room, and fetch my sniper's riffle, three black hunter knives and a box of ammunition. I shove it in my black bag and zip it up, strapping it to my back and I welcome the nothing I feel. The emptiness of The Ghost. River The Satan Sniper's My life has always been a ride for the finish line. I have watched men bleed until their very souls have twisted and turned, leaving their body. I have seen death in numbers of a thousand. I’ve faced off with killers who fight for things they know not of. I have murdered fathers, taken meaningless lives for a country that will never surrender, that will al

Amy didn’t shout, didn’t give warning, her fingers were already pressing into the trigger before their eyes adjusted BANG. One down neck shot, blood splattering the metal wall like a sick painting. BANG. BANG. Two more — down before they realized the angel of death wore heels. The youngest girl screamed as bullets shredded through the air. Amy ducked low, her body shielding her like instinct. Another man lunged — too slow. She turned, fired, his brains hit the floor first. The last shot rang out as one of the men lifted his hand not in surrender, but hesitation. Amy didn’t gamble with hesitation, the velvet fell from the gun like a promise broken. She stood straight, gun smoking. Her face un

The engine beneath us growled, a mechanical beast ready to sprint across the jagged ice. The helicopter roared above us, its blades cutting through the thin air with a rhythmic, bone-deep thrum. The sniper in the doorway was a silhouette of death against the pale morning sky. He didn't care about the ship or the survivors; his only mission was to ensure the Silver-Bane bloodline ended on this ice. "Get down!" Lucian barked. A second shot cracked. The bullet hissed past my ear, striking a frozen snowmobile behind us and sending a spray of ice shards into the air.

"West side. The water tower." ​I looked at the briefcase in my hand. The Pulse-8 was designed for close-range hardware disruption, not taking out a marksman three hundred yards away. But Silas didn't want us dead he wanted the drive. The sniper was taking out our exits, pinning us down until the ground team arrived.

Death was close, and he’d dance with it if it came. Jeremiah breached late, trailing Jeremy’s squad—too slow, too loud. He rocked a plate carrier, SCAR-H with a suppressor, 7.62 rounds ready to punch holes. The docks were slick, air cold, his breath fogging faint. Then—a crack. Sniper round, .338 Lapua, high vantage—Hammer's man's work. It tore through Jeremiah’s hip, bone shattering, flesh splitting wide. He dropped hard, concrete biting his knees, a scream choking in his throat as blood gushed hot.