chaotic bullets

🎯 Characters:

• Isadora – 25, fast-talking, trigger-happy, and way too entertained by this mess. 😈🔫

• Selene – The composed, ice-cold queen of destruction. Smokes like an old Hollywood villain, kills like an artist. 🚬💄

🔫 Scene:

The air was thick with smoke, the kind that clung to your lungs and left the taste of gunpowder and blood on your tongue. The once-pristine penthouse was a fing war zone*—bodies slumped over furniture, bullet holes peppering the expensive wallpaper like abstract art, and the rug? Oh, the rug was soaked in red.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders as I kicked a spent shell casing off my boot. It clinked against the marble floor, joining the hundreds already there.

Selene, still looking fresh as hell, took a slow drag of her cigarette, tapping the ashes onto the bare chest of a man we had painted in lead. He wasn’t moving. None of them were.

"Damn," I muttered, stepping over a body with a neat little hole right between the eyes. "That was… satisfying." 😏💥

Selene exhaled smoke, tilting her head. "Mm. A little too fast, though." 🚬

I gasped, dramatically clutching my chest. "Excuse me? Fast? You saw how that last guy ran—I had to put six rounds in him just to make him sit the f down."* 😤🔫

Selene smirked, stepping over a twitching body with the elegance of a runway model. "Seven."

I blinked. "Huh?"

She tilted her head towards the mess of a man near the fireplace. "You shot him seven times, not six."

I squinted at the pile of bullet-riddled flesh before shrugging. "Details."

A low groan came from the far side of the room. I turned, my gun already raised, only to see some poor bastard half-alive, crawling toward the door, dragging his useless legs through the blood.

Selene and I exchanged a look. She raised a brow. I grinned.

"Aww, sweetheart, where do you think you’re going?" I cooed, stepping closer, heel clicking against the marble. 👠

He whimpered, shaking like a damn leaf in a hurricane, his face pale with the realization that he fed up by surviving.*

Selene let out an exaggerated sigh, kneeling beside him, blowing a soft stream of smoke directly into his face. 🚬 "You really should’ve stayed down."

He started to sob. Pathetic.

I leaned down, pressing the cold muzzle of my gun against his forehead. "You want a last word, baby?"

He just gurgled something useless.

I rolled my eyes. "Boring."

BANG.

His body jerked once, then nothing.

I sighed, standing up and stretching my arms, the rush of adrenaline still thrumming beneath my skin. God, that felt good.

Selene flicked her cigarette away, watching as it landed perfectly in a pool of blood, the ember sizzling as it died. "Messy."

I licked a drop of blood off my wrist, smiling. "Beautiful." 😈💋

We stood there for a moment, just enjoying the aftermath. The silence was so fing perfect*, the only sounds being the occasional drip of blood hitting the floor, the cooling metal of our guns, and the distant hum of the city outside.

I turned to Selene. "Sooo… you hungry?"

She raised a brow, glancing at the absolute massacre we left behind. "Starving."

I grinned, grabbing my phone. "Pizza?" 🍕

Selene sighed, shaking her head. "You shot the delivery guy last week, remember?"

I winced. "Right. My bad. Chinese?"

Selene finally smirked. "Chinese sounds good."

I grabbed my gun, flipping it over my shoulder as we stepped over the bodies like they were nothing.

💥 No witnesses. No regrets. Just another masterpiece. 🚬🔫💄