Achilles Heel Novels & Stories

I was wearing high heels and twisted my ankle. It hurt it so badly. The soft snap made me break out in a cold sweat instantly. Three years ago, Jack had a high fever at night, and it happened to be when the power in the neighborhood was out. I carried Jack, who was two sizes taller than me, up the eight-story building. I stepped off the edge and twisted my ankle, breaking it. The doctor said that I could not injure this ankle again, or there was a possibility of lifelong disability.

My ankle screams in agony under the strain of my high heels, but his boots just keep thudding heavily against the floorboards. "Slow down, Kaelen," I hiss, my breath catching as a sharp pain shoots straight up my calf. He stops on the landing, his chest heaving as his raw, wild scent of winter pine and hot sweat floods my nose. "Are you really trying to stay with him?" "No," I whisper, looking down.

she said and I chuckled. "No thank you. I would never do that to my self. Do you know what Achilles tendon is? It is a tendon of your foot. Wearing heels shortens and thickens it and then the pain starts in the ankle joints. Soon it won't stay at ankle joints but start to go up, hip joint and calf muscles and back joints everything will start paining. Keep wearing them and before forty all these things will happen and you will realise what a bad decision it was to choose heels to match up to a man rather than your good personality." I said and her eyes widened. She can't speak and the head designer spoke.

Belmont carefully massaging my foot, he was so focused and tender, as though he's holding a baby's foot. He soon stopped, he dropped my leg back on the table, reached for an ice pack and placed it on the swollen area. “You should stop wearing heels.” “Huh?” I asked dumbly -I didn't process his words in time because I was so lost staring at him -I couldn't believe his overnight change. “You should stop wearing heels,” he repeated his words. “It's easier to sustain leg injuries in them.” “B-but…" I stuttered slightly. My throat suddenly ran dry, hence my stutter… But why did my throat dry up?

She swore internally when she viewed his leather boots. The giants of her country never wore any footwear so her plan to slice his Achilles tendons went out the window. Helia was trying to formulate a plan of attack or defense, but nothing seemed plausible now. If she were to kill him she'd need to get at his neck or through his eyes. Both options were dismally out of her reach. Now she was wishing she'd tried jumping down from above.

I said nervously. Tyler leaned forward then, pointing at my shin. “If I get this right,” he said, “then you have to roll your leggings up. I get to see skin for each one I get right.” He gently ran his finger down the length of my shin, pursing his lips. “I remember this one started with a ‘t’,” he said. “Was it ‘titila’?” “Tibia,” I corrected. “Tibia,” he echoed. “And there were two. That means the back one…” He turned his hand and ran a few fingers back up my calf. “That’s the fibula, right?”

He leaned against the doorframe, a picture of innocence. "Is there a problem, darling?" "Where are my shoes?" I pointed an accusing finger at the shelf of shame. "And what are those abominations?" "Those are orthopedic support slides," he said, walking over to inspect them with a nod of approval. "Rated number one for joint relief. I read the reviews." "You read reviews? Since when do you read reviews? You usually just buy the company that makes the product." "I did that too. But I wanted to be sure." He turned to me, his grey eyes dancing with amusement. "Dr. Aris said your center of gravity is going to shift. Heels are a fall risk. I removed the risk."

As Alexander guides me through the expansive corridor toward the castle’s exit, I feel the nervousness and anxiety swelling within me once again, like threatening waves. With each step I take, the shoes—though stunning—remind me of how uncomfortable they can be. The slender heels feel taller with every hesitant step, as if the ground itself is conspiring against me. I’m not accustomed to such elevated and delicate heels, and more than once I feel my ankle falter, nearly twisting. But Alexander, ever attentive, gently tightens his grip on my arm, keeping me steady—a true anchor by my side.

my body aches, and I might collapse if I forced myself more. “A-Achilles.” He wasn’t responding anymore, my heart pounded so fast again. Until I felt warm skin at my fingertips, I quickly dragged my body toward that person, I know it was Achilles. “A-Are you alright? H-Hey.” I tried to wake him up but he isn’t responding at all. “A-Achilles,” I whispered, tears started cascading down my cheeks. I can’t see his face but he’s barely breathing, he was too hot. And I could feel that his body was too tortured to even move.

After all, many people feared him, so he wasn't unfamiliar with the reaction, but Mary's fear seemed tinged with anticipation. Was it merely his imagination? Or was there a deeper reason behind it? The following day, Serenity took Edward and Mary to see Mr. Smith so that he could examine Mary's leg. After the examination, Mr. Smith told her, "Your leg's problem isn't due to your knee. Your Achilles tendon has been severed before, hasn't it? Although it was later reattached, it wasn't done properly. The hidden problems surfaced as you age. Coupled with the injury to your joint, that's why your leg hasn't healed after all these years."