Sweating Bullets Tv Series の小説・ストーリー

"You can't even stand, and you want to ski? If you love skiing so much, just stay down there!" She then turned to Roberto and said, "Roberto, take care of them. Make them stay down a little longer…" Every time Carla and I tried to get to our feet, Roberto shoved us back down. The snow had sapped our strength, and our body heat was dropping fast. Carla's face had turned a dark purple, and her breath was short and rapid. "Carla?" I called out softly. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She seemed woozy and weak all over.

PHYSIOLOGICAL STRESS DETECTED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO SIT? Renn shoots the screen. The bullet punches through glass. The display goes black. For one heartbeat, the room is only lamplight and burnt circuitry. Then the wall behind the tissue box lights up with the same words. WOULD YOU LIKE TO SIT? “I am going to run out of bullets before this room runs out of manners,” Renn says. Sarah keeps her eyes on me. “What happens if you refuse?” The wrist unit answers before I do.

“I replaced the bullets.” “What?” I said flatly. “In her gun,” he clarified. I stared at him. “You’re telling me… you somehow got access to her weapon… and swapped real bullets for fake ones?” “Yes.” “That’s not something people just do, Reed!” “I had time,” he replied simply. I ran a hand over my face, trying to process it. “So when she pulled the trigger…” “It wasn’t a real bullet,” he finished. My heart was still racing. “But there was blood,” I said quickly. “You collapsed. You looked—”

I hit my head with my hands, trying to push away the confusing thoughts as I continued walking to class. The final bell rang and I hesitated to leave the classroom. I knew what awaited me outside; a group of bullies, ready to pounce on me. I waited for everyone to leave, but it seemed like they were taking their own sweet time. As I was lost in my thoughts, I suddenly felt something cold and wet dripping on my head. I gasped in shock and looked back to see Steve's friends, grinning at me. They had poured water on me. My shirt was soaked, and my skin was visible from underneath. I felt a pang of embarrassment and shame wash over me.

I twist and turn the dagger in my shoulder, trying to take out the bullet. Cold sweats break onto my forehead and extreme pain runs in my left side, but it doesn't stop me from moving the dagger in my flesh. I gripped the handle of the dagger tightly and pulled out the bullet. I fell on the floor and my knees hit the tiles of the washroom hard. My breathing became harsh as my whole body started shivering. M…mumma!! I miss you. I kept myself under the shower and watched as my blood flowed in the water to vain. Tears threatened to gather in my eyes but I didn't let them.

The deafening sound of the trigger being pulled resonates through the air, followed by a sharp, searing pain in my chest. My heart races, fear coursing through my veins, as I realise that the bullet narrowly missed its mark. The shock of the moment starts to fade, replaced by a chilling realisation: the bullet is silver. Panic sets in as I comprehend that my supernatural healing abilities won’t save me this time. The urgent need to remove the silver bullet pulses through my body, a desperate race against time to cheat death.

No one is to lay a hand on her. "Here's a little motivation." I swiftly grab the gun that has been tucked behind me, in my pants. It's loaded with silver bullets, lethal to werewolves. Before anyone could blink, I randomly shot one of Russell's team members in the head. I watch as his lifeless body falls to the ground, leaving a crimson puddle that's most certainly going to stain my new and expensive rug. I walk back to my desk to put the gun down and then turn to watch the color drain from their faces, the horror that fills their eyes, the fear that is consuming their entire being.

Grayson gritted his teeth as he reached back and grabbed a clean washcloth hanging on the outside of the door. Washing his body was never so hard. Each minute that passed, he felt his strength draining further. He leaned his head back and let the warm water rinse the shampoo out of his hair. The water felt good, beating down against his body and soothing his aching muscles. He turned and braced his left arm and forehead against the wall as he extended the claw on his right index finger. Grayson took a deep breath in and held it. He looked down at his stomach and pressed his claw inside the wound. Grayson clenches his teeth and grunts as he digs deeper. He feels his claw scrape against the me

But that too presents itself as a multiplier of the mind-blowing pain that has submerged him. In frustration he falls from the bed, rolling on the ground like a burnt fly while Sophia creeps into a corner watching him with trauma. "Ahhhh! Ahhh!" He starts banging his head on the wall trying as much to ease the bigger pain. Suddenly the door is kicked open by the Swat team of the country. Their helmets covering every part of their body from direct danger, while their guns keep an eye out, looking to exterminate danger. In his frustration he runs towards them and in a second three bullets meet with him, escorting him to his grave.

If I were to pull the cloth now, I could also pull out the bullet. But I can't do that. That would leave blood everywhere, and for now, the cloth has also sealed in blood. If I leave any blood, getting away would be meaningless as the authorities would be able to track me. Pulling up the hem of the bullet-proof shirt, I aim the needle at the edge of the wound. Slowly, I pierce my body and inject myself. The sting is nothing compared to the throbbing in my side. Carefully, I steady my hands and inject a third of the contents. I cough out in pain, my voice seemingly sewn into the base of my neck.