Supernatural Gun Colt Novels & Stories

Since Colton had a woman to take care of, Carter did not want anything happening to his cousin and was ready to sacrifice for him. “Behind you!” Juliet screamed again when Colton was about to make the switch with Carter. Colton pulled the trigger but it seems the owner of the gun had fired some shots so he ran out of bullets. The assailant fired the bullet before Colton reached and hit him with a gun, and the two men got entangled in a fight.

I like having a grand entrance. "What's new?" I said reluctantly and leaned back in the chair. "The guns," he reminded me of something I almost forgot, I am the death dealers' leader of this faction. I hate it when my guns leave my body. It's my other half. I'm sorry babies. I pursed my lips as I took my two Beretta 93R. Contains silver bullets with ultraviolet ammunition which can be used for both vampires and lycans. This is my favorite weapon for being fair.

“K-Kol!” “Kol p-please!” “It’s me,” I screamed, my eyes blurry from the tears in my eyes, “Kol it’s me!” I cried out closing my eyes as all I saw was pure blood thirsty rage in his demeanor and eyes. BANG! BANG! BANG! The beast of Kol roared out in pain, getting away from me and running in the other direction jumping off the boat and straight into the water that surrounded us. I looked over to where the gunshots came from and Santiago was holding a smoking silver gun with wolves and skulls engraved into the gun. It looked to be vintage.

The ones in the lead were Undead Joey and Dallas. Undead Joey was in a long, black robe. He wore an eyepatch like a pirate and carried a small medical box made out of ebony behind his back. The box was his innate weapon. Next to him was a ferocious thug-like man with half of his shoulder exposed. It was Dallas, the Supernatural Cannon. He had two huge machetes behind his back, and he was wearing a hat made out of a mountain goat. Dallas was known as the Supernatural Cannon because of his unique ability. To describe it coarsely, it was farting. It was a move that was well-hated by everyone, and it was below everyone's dignity to point out his despicable technique.

God knows how Ethan is going to track this thing, even though Connor reckon that there might be more than one. So this is a gamble, and the cards are not in our favor. But what is in my favor is that Edward, Breyden, and the Vampire Hunter are traveling in the car behind us. This gives me the opportunity to discuss my little beloved's creation. "Now," I start off with a bit of information that I doubt the boys know of yet, "You boys know that Samuel Colt has recently passed?" Connor looks over his shoulder and only but shakes his head at me, "No, did the old-timer finally kick the bucket?"

I didn't know why she brought it back with her. "Why don't guns do anything to you?" "They are made to hurt human beings. They don't have the power to do real damage to supernaturals. Well, except for witches." She had already gathered that. "So I'm assuming you guys have your own kind of guns?" "Yes. They are much more powerful. We also have different kinds of bullets that do more damage once they are inside our bodies. A gun made to kill a supernatural will kill him even if the bullet didn't penetrate a vital organ as long as it stays in his body for a while. The time depends on where he has been shot. It can range from one minute to one day."

Lukas was skeptical if it would work on Demons. It better be. "Heavenly Father, bless us our weapon in this time of need, that our enemies would fall before us. Enemies that only you and your angels could kill." He began. "Like how you bestow upon Saint Michael his sword, may You too bestow upon us the blessing to destroy evil with this weapon. Amen." He grabbed a belt of bullets and fed it inside the M-60. He went to the sidearms area, prayed the same blessings, and loaded the Colt .45 with a magazine. He retrieved a holster nearby and attached it to his leg.

They are all fired up. “Four shots, and three while we were at the staircases. That’s a total of seven.” Hestia said while facing Albert. Albert then replied with a serious look, “And based on the gun he was using, it is Colt M1911. It can only house seven bullets per magazine. He’s completely out of bullets at this point.” hope began to flow inside their wiens at the news that the gun of the two bad guys no longer has any bullets left to use. Inside their minds, it is one obstacle cleared, it is one risk out of the equation, a danger no longer existing.

Against the dark sky, I almost did not see it, but the sound was familiar, and when I squinted, I saw it, riding higher and higher away from us. A black drone. Colt pulled out a gun before I could protest and fired at it. And as the device tumbled to the floor, he shot it again for good measure. “We don’t know who owns that,” I said as he pulled me back up to my feet. “They’re spying on us,” he said simply.

Grandpa just answered that he had applied the Oil of Black Friday on the bullet that he used. Simply put, it was anointed and that would mean he will bleed to death if he doesn't find a way to remove it from his body. Too bad, we will never know what happened because we never returned to that resort. ++++++++ We won't keep you any long dear reader, but we do hope to see you again so you can continue reading the stories here at the Supernatural Spa. This is your Storyteller, The Diwata, saying fare the well... And good night!