Achilles Heel Novels & Stories

With what was left of my energy, I made my way towards a seemingly vacant table not too far from where I was standing. Settling down on the chair, I slid off the torturous four-inch stilettos and began to massage my feet one by one. They were redder than a baboon’s butt and oedematous. I don’t understand who had invented heels in the first place. It must have been a man because there was no way a woman would think of punishing herself this way. It was unimaginable to me.

“I am such a fool.” With a bit of a struggle, I manage to stand up. A sharp, biting pain shoots up my calves, forcing a gasp from my throat. I freeze, waiting for the agony to dull into a throb before taking a tentative step forward. The physician wasn’t exaggerating. My ankles feel like brittle glass, but the burning curiosity in my chest numbs the physical discomfort.

“What I applied on your ankle? Slows down healing for deep wounds. Technically it’s a pain reliever... but if it’s not neutralized by a reverse serum tomorrow, the pain gets worse. You’ll be out for two weeks.” I gasp—fake. Then roll my eyes. “You’re lying.” He shrugs again. “Feel free to test the theory.” “Fuck you,” I hiss, trying to sit up more. Pain spikes through my ankle, sharp and angry. He stands up, casual as ever. “Don’t underestimate my access to rare ointments and healing methods. You simply can’t relate—you’re not royalty.” My mouth opens to clap back. Then I remember—I’m Astrid now.

She follows behind me to the door. "No. What is the use of heels anyways?" She stared at me for so long that I thought she was dead on the spot until she spoke up, "Makes you look more classy, and kind of give you the opportunity to look down at people and be like "yo, b!tches, I'm back. " I shook my head. "That sounds nice." I gulp. But the last time I tried heels on, it almost destroyed my ankles and I couldn't feel my legs for days...it was totally paralyzed.

Instead, because she had exerted all her strength, her entire body's center of gravity completely leaned forward and couldn't be pulled back. Just as she was startled, her thigh suddenly hurt, and the high heels kicked her thigh through the skirt. The heel hit her hard, causing Heidy to cry out in pain. Before she could react, she fell into the pool with a loud splash.

was the heaviest. Jenny’s knees began to go numb against the stone surface. There was only a layer of denim between her kneecaps and the stone. The hardness and coldness of the stone were transmitted directly to her kneecaps, and from there to the inner sides of her thighs. Her toes were curled up inside her high heels, with the tendons on the tops of her feet stretched taut.

The kind of flaw that drew eyes in a world where wolves were supposed to be strong, symmetrical, and perfect. I'd been born with it. A twisted bone in my left leg that hadn't set properly, probably because the healer who'd attended my birth was inexperienced, or drunk, or simply didn't care enough about one more orphan to do the job right. By the time Ma Agatha noticed and tried to get it corrected, the bone had fused. Permanent. The limp was mine for life. "Stop staring at it," Ally said gently. "I'm not." "You are. And you're doing the thing where your shoulders hunch forward, like you're trying to make yourself smaller. Stand up straight."

He was still thinking how to get in the city without so getting attention, when his right foot slipped on a sharp rock. Ginika let out a loud cry as a sharp pain traveled to his body from his right heel. Tears were already pouring out from his eyes as he held the leg and gnashed his teeth. The point was pulsing. Aside from that, he could also feel movement on the heel, and it seemed as if something was walking up, from the wounded leg to his body. He panicked as the realization hit him that he might have been beaten by a snake. Dropping the leg, he struggled with the girdle that held the pelt on his waist.

I asked, my back still facing him. “You didn't seem bothered by the name a few days ago.” “A lot can change within days.” He sighed, “What changed?” ignoring him, I sat on the bed, my left leg mid-air and I pulled out the heels from my arching sole. I wriggled my foot around slowly for relief. It helped a little but legs above my head, on the wall helped a lot better. An exercise that helps send blood flowing back to my body whenever I wear heels for a long time.

“Jungle foot.” “Huh?” I look at him quizzically. “Jungle foot, or foot rot. It’s from wearing your boots too long and sweating. Our soldiers in Cambiador get this when we go on ruck marches, and they can’t shift.” “Doesn’t their counterpart heal them?”