Straight Shooter Novels & Stories

Nick BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. I took off my earpiece and lowered my rifle on the table. I pushed the lever, causing the sheet of silhouette target paper in front of me to dangle. Bullet holes peppered the black and white target. Fifteen out of fifteen of them were in the bull’s eye. I smirked. I pulled up a freshly drawn target and fired my prestigious M&P 9 M2.0, hitting the target in the head, chest, and crotch. The holy trinity.

I said as I pulled the trigger on the gun that Briton handed me and pointed it at his head. "If you didn't already know, I'm a sharpshooter. Fortunately for you, I drank earlier tonight, so there's a good chance I'll miss your head. The bad news is that the bullet could either go straight through your heart and cause your death or just your head in between those thighs and cause you to lose it. Whatever you decide is fine with me though." "N-no. Please, no. No, no, don't." The man stuttered. Despite his inability to speak as a result of the blows he has received, he is attempting to do so and try to communicate.

If they only knew that if they just checked it, just once, they would have swerved away from the north bridge even if it meant going head on with traffic or traffic police officers. “Fucking shut the hell up or I will shoot you instead!” the shooter sat back, eyes and actions filled with agitation. “That motherfucker is like a loach, so fucking slippery!” When he opened the door long before he took an aim, the fucking Cadillac moved as if it knew what he was thinking. And just as he pulled the trigger, the fucking motherfucker swerved to the side! “Pussy!” “You do it then! Fuckin’ prick!” He was unconvinced so he took another chance, opened the window again, and pulled the trigger. He did no

Amy tried not to let the maniacal Joker-like laughter distract her. The woman soldier ignored the pain radiating through her punctured wrist. She had another trick up her sleeve, hoping her crazed laughter would distract Amy. The soldier almost captured Amy when she pulled out her Ruger SR9 semi-automatic pistol, aiming it at Amy. But the Death Row Infantry-woman forgot to reload her magazine, which meant her gun was empty. The soldier pulled the trigger, only to hear her gun respond with a click.

“I think you’re a psychopath.” He smirks, presses the barrel harder. “I prefer the term sociopath,” he drawls. He pulls the trigger. Click.

He left it there. Left it for me. My fists squeezed tight, knuckles whitening, as I kicked a stone hard, letting my vexation out with a sharp jab. The first shot says everything about who you are and I hadn’t taken mine yet. If he thought I’d stoop low enough to claim that coyote and thank him? he’s got no idea who he’s messing with.

Blood gurgles from the Hunter's mouth as he crumples to the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at the night sky. "Woohoo!" Vivaldi exclaims, his face alive with the thrill of the fight. He charges at the Hunters with the speed of a cheetah on espresso shots, his wild hair whipping in the wind. Bullets, arrows, and other projectiles sail towards him, but he embraces the impact like a metalhead at a mosh pit, making no effort to dodge them.

“There were actually three of us when it happened. The first one was killed, shot in the head. The second was also killed, but by the man they called 'Eagle Eye'.” “Eagle Eye?” “Yeah. A special experienced hunter that uses bow and arrow to eliminate his prey. He's quick, precise, skilled and incredibly flexible. He's like an acrobat, like a ninja. However, you don't usually see him. They only send him out if the hunters are having difficulty killing the prey,” Stan explains. “How did you even survive though?” “I ran and hid…and I uh…” I pause to look at him. He gazes back expectantly.

Narrator's POV Flashback A young Stanning shot the bullets fro her gun asfast as they could be released. The bullets were all bullseyes. She took off her earmuffs, meant to protect her ears from the noise of her trusty pistol. Her instructor looked at her. "You have accuracy. But where does your strength come from? ", he asked her. She didn't reply. "Anger. You're angry at the world. And you're angry at criminals. So they're going to face your wrath. That is the way you want to deliver justice? "

His mom always hit the nail on the head but innocently laughed it off. Rose couldn't help but give Camellia a sideways glance, and Jessica made a good point. Camellia was known as a sharpshooter, able to handle guns with both hands, and exceptionally agile. Even in a fight, she could quickly draw her firearm. That day, Herman had no hidden weapons or guns on him, and Camellia wanted to kill him with ease.