Tales Of The Guns 소설 & 이야기

All weapons related stuff were piled up in this warehouse, Terry has now find a closure to his issues, as for me, I felt some relief off my shoulders. “……Wow!..all brand new…fresh from the factory…Riffles, Handgun…grenades…all in good conditions….Looks like all the other boxes were the same…..fuhh~…I love the smells of new guns…”. (Terry)

“I imagine you know how to use them now?” I nodded. Alyx and Jeremy taught me how to use knives. I had a few tutorials with the swords, but I didn’t love them. “They didn’t teach me guns,” I admitted, closing the lid. He opened a door on the other side of the room and gestured for me to come see. I walked over to him and looked inside. The walls held an assortment of mounted guns–handguns, shotguns, and rifles of different kinds. Shelves held boxes of ammunition that I could only assume were mostly silver.

There was a transparent glass attached to the wall, showcasing different types of guns and on the other side of the wall, contained different types of swords and daggers. And that was when it hit me that he was a total contrast to Thorne the bibliophile. “Do the guns have bullets in them?” He cleared his throat. “No, they are unloaded. Emma gets pretty curious, and I fear that she might take them one day. So I had to unload the bullets. Just for the children’s safety” “Wow, aren't you such a sweet uncle” A smile that faltered immediately crossed his face, and he leaned against the table. Even though I had my back turned to him, I could feel his eyes following me around.

“Are you ready for the battle, Dorian?” “Yes, I am in no need for your automatic weapons. I will be using my favourite toys.” The animal-like being smiled wickedly, slowly removing a large cleaver from the waistband of his torn trousers. “Alright, I was just making sure.” Michael muttered, removing the magazine from his manmade gun as he checked the clip; turning to leave.

’ Camilla was puzzled by their action and just stood in her place a few meters away from the bound creature. Prince Fazan took the weapon, unsheathing it from its gilded scabbard. It has a long narrow blade with a wide, asymmetrical base. He moved in front of the table and they all faced the onlookers, stillness replacing the exuberant atmosphere seconds ago.

Mullah backed away his eyes wide as we destroyed his men without a shot being fired. He reached for a gun but just like his men it was white hot metal and he dropped it instantly gasping in pain, ‘What kind of black magic is this? Who are you? How did you find us? You will not be allowed to get away with this.'

“I knew that you were a greedy person but I didn’t know that you could take anyone’s life for your own concern! I will not let you live until I see you in the prison” “I didn’t kill him! it was just an accident” Keith started hesitating. “Stop lying you greedy man! You’re a thief and a murderer! All you love is money!” Henry accused. Keith slammed the door and went back in. “You didn’t go to work today? Asked his little daughter Victoria. “No.” “Why and who was on the door?” Martina came and sat beside Keith.

The next few chapters are a series of stories that follow on from each other and have different peoples points of views. These was going to be released as a completely different book all together but seen as I decided to merge all three of Tales OF A Gay Man books together I will more than likely just keep adding to these. Also be very much appreciated if you can share and recommend my book/s with your friends and also share your thoughts on the stories published before and after the start of this next mini series of Tales Of A Gay Man, maybe even pass on some inspiration for new chapters or even a new book.

A half-smoked cigarette dangled between my fingers, the glow between my curled, stiff fingers the only warmth in the dimly lit sala. I took another long drag, letting the smoke sear into my lungs before slowly blowing it out. My head was a battle zone, images of deception flashing like gunfire: Victor and his sneer, poisoned wine, and the audacity of men who believed they were more clever than me—better or more worthy of what I’d earned in blood and steel. The business world was a more deadly version of an unloaded pistol with the safety off. Deals sealed with a handshake could explode like grenades. Survival was more than just pulling a trigger; it meant knowing when to pull it, who to aim

"Jealousy is a really bad thing and being jealous of your friend is the worst thing that one can do." Looking at the stranger who had started talking to her out of nowhere, she frowned. "Excuse me?" "Yes?" "I am sorry but did you say something?" Taking the two beer bottles from the bartender's hand, he replied, "If you were the one who is jealous of her friend then yes—" Offering her a bottle, he added, "I think I was talking to you." "I already ordered mine.” Raising her brows at him, she charged him. “What makes you feel that I am jealous of my best friend? How can you say that without even knowing who I am?”