Straight Shooter Novels & Stories

Her hatred for cops. “Pow! Pow! Pow!”, the .8 caliber fired three rounds at her just when she ran through the bend at the end of the poorly lit, dark alley. The shooter knew he didn’t miss. He’d spent a life time in the service of the Castros, and he knew well enough that three bullets would be more than enough to kill their chaser. Or maim them, to think the least, but she kept coming, seemingly unharmed by the damage done to her by the hot shots fired at close range.

The little girl who had been watching this from afar, now scared and uneasy ran towards the scene. As she reached, she saw a man removing the limp body of her father that lay over him. A cry of anguish came out of the girl's mouth. She raced towards her father's body bending down shaking him and continuously chanting " Papa! Wake up!". The man looked upto his daughter and gave a small grin as if trying to comfort his crying and terrified daughter “It’s fine, my love. I am fine” The shooter stood up, dusting his clothes. He now picked up his gun that lay on the floor and started pointing at the little boy ignoring the crying girl and her dying father.

“The dog child of the mighty Perses can’t fight his own battles? Send a pussy to do it for you? Two can play that game.” “INCOMING!” Saint yells. The woman snaps her fingers with a loud popping crackle. Klay freezes mid-lunge, but the photographer isn’t affected. He pulls a gun from his waistband and points it at me. It feels like I’m moving through quicksand as I turn away, covering Codi with my body. The shooter is less than six feet away. This is going to hurt. I brace myself for the impact from such a short range.

I glare at my target, aim, and release. I smile as it hits the inner circle. One shot left. I picked up the last dagger. Pull back my arm, aim, and release. I couldn’t have made a better shot if I had wanted to. The tip of the dagger was touching the tip of Broady’s arrow. Matty started jumping about like an idiot. I was still in shock at the amazing shot. “11 points,” Coach shouted.

She cries out a shrill shriek and then she turns towards the door when the good ole boy Marion breaks the door down. This time I am ready for him though, because at a little truck stop on the way here I ran into a seller of all kinds of things, one of them being handguns. Smiling, I reach down quickly into my boot and pull it out before aiming at him and pulling the trigger. One, two, three. I fire the bullets into his head before he finally goes down in a puddle of blood and brains sprayed all over.

AVA Without another word, Hunter moves swiftly away from the lockers, passing by his two friends whose names I'm guessing are Preston and Gomorey. They had been gawking at Hunter with a mischievous grin playing on their lips, and Hunter didn't waste a chance to shoot them both with his penetrating glare. I noticed their pupils retrench as they stared at him, meaning they were conversing with each other through mindlink. It was brief, lasting a couple of seconds before Hunter turns left and straight down the now-empty halls.

“This is where it ends.” Adrian’s voice was calm. “No.” A pause. “This is where you lose.” Gunfire erupted. The final battle began. Chaos exploded through the building. Shots echoed. Bodies moved. Shadows clashed. Victor moved like a storm, taking down attackers with ruthless precision. Adrian—Was something else entirely. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t slow. Didn’t stop. Every movement was controlled violence, anger and payback. Every shot calculated. Every step forward, relentless.

I ordered, voice low but commanding. My men moved like shadows—silent, efficient, merciless. Each shot was precise, calculated to end threats without hesitation. I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye and spun, firing twice. One attacker crumpled, a high-pitched groan escaping his lips.