The Gunslinger Novels & Stories

My heart raced as I instinctively reached for the guns under my hoodie, the cool metal offering a small comfort. The ferals surged forward, their fangs bared, and I pulled the triggers of my guns. The shots rang out like thunder in the dark, moonlit night. The battle had begun, and I was caught in the midst of it. The roar of gunfire erupted from all around me as my companions emerged from their hiding places to join the fray. But I could see it in their eyes; they, too, doubted our ability to subdue these ferocious creatures. We needed more hunters reinforcements that we didn't have.

“ Shit what do I do now ? “ I mumble to myself. Last night was amazing , but it was also a mistake. One that I don’t want to face. In the heat of the moment my mind had been fully on the task of getting off and actually being touched. In the light of day the logic and the consequences of what happened was fully back I let the leader of The Sinners go down on me , I let him watch me groom and I came all over his face until I blacked out. Carnage , the killer , the ruthless man on the cops most wanted list. The one that I’d guess at least forty agents or cops had a bee in their bonnet for to bring down because they knew it would be their career booster.

Suddenly, Grayson’s gun is in his hand and he’s pointing it at Gunner’s head. “Back the fuck up off me, Gunner!” Grayson growls like a feral animal. “What the f—” “Now!” Grayson barks. Gunner backs off him, laughing cockily as he raises his arms in surrender. “Whuh-ho, well, look at you boy. I guess you did learn something at my camp last summer.” He nods at the gun. “Now, put that thing away before someone gets hurt.” “You ever put your hands on me again and I’ll put a fucking hole through your head,” he seethes in such a blistering tone I believe him. He waits a beat longer before he lowers his Glock.

If this was the end, he was taking Vincent with him. Moving with quiet precision, Bullet slipped from behind the desk, his gun already raised. His finger curled around the trigger, aiming directly at Vincent’s heart. A deafening bang rang out. Bullet gasped, his body jerking violently as pain tore through his shoulder. The gun flew from his grasp, clattering uselessly to the ground. He staggered, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. Bianchi stood a few feet away, gun still smoking, a satisfied smirk pulling at his lips. His dark eyes gleamed with pure malice.

Closing the cabin door behind him, he removed his face-mask and calmly took a seat across from the man, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "Where is she?" inquired Mr. Singers nonchalantly. The man with the gun let out a chuckle before replying, "As expected of Code S, your deductive skills are as keen as ever." "I am no longer Code S Banito," Mr. Singers declared, his expression somber. "I have changed my ways and distanced myself from the organization." Banito, the man brandishing a gun, responded with a sinister laugh. Just then, Agatha emerged from her hiding spot, a sight that didn't surprise Mr. Singers in the least; he had been anticipating her arrival.

“My love, I can't afford to let that wolf kill the whole flock. We won’t survive the winter without them.” Tears streamed down her face as she watched him walk toward the door. He slipped out of the house and headed toward the pens. At first, he didn’t see anything but then out of the darkness a big black wolf with glowing red eyes appeared. He raised the musket, but the wolf was too fast and was on him in an instant. They heard the struggle with the screams of their father.

Ice, The night was shrouded in darkness as I hid inside an old building, clutching one of my deadly baby bolt-action sniper rifles. My sights were trained on the figures below, engaged in an illicit negotiation in the depths of the dark alley. This syndicate was a notorious gang, untouchable by the law due to their corrupt connections. It was a rare opportunity to witness one of their members involved in such an illegal transaction in all my years as an assassin, hunting down criminals across the globe.

I sneered. The man let out a short, dry snicker. "You wouldn't be able to do anything with the name even if I gave it to you. You'll be dead before the sun sets but just know that your blood tie to the Redmoon pack was your greatest disadvantage." He reached into a holster at his hip and pulled out a heavy, black handgun. I heard the distinct, metallic clack of a round being chambered. I caught the gleam of the bullet. It was a wolf killer gun with silver bullets.

We arrived back at the large mansion with a few more boxes of silver bullets and the weapon I was to wear. Rem had decided it was a good idea to equip himself with a Hunter’s gun, one that would be much quieter to shoot than any normal gun. He hoped he wouldn’t need to use it or the silver bullets, but he erred on the side of caution.

Disappointed, he glares at her as Alexander presses a gun to her head and asks Dolf for the detonator. The gun that Alexander holds against Jenny's temple is no ordinary weapon. It's the long slide G24.40 S&W Glock that he obtained through his French 'pastime' with Sophie. She had gifted it to him during his business trip with the Les Beaux Voyous, using their drug smuggling routes to sneak it into the States. Since he was the point man, it was a relatively easy task. This Glock was his preferred firearm, known for its reliability and minimal chances of jamming. The intricate designs of both Glock and Smith & Wesson made it adaptable to various shooting techniques and conditions.