After Every Hit We Take Novels & Stories

I need a hit. I can see two of my teammates on the bases—Todd is on second and Calvin is on third. I close my fingers around the bat, let my muscles relax into the movement just before the swing. I see the pitcher throw the ball and then time my hit … and crush out a home run.

The impact reverberates through my body, a mix of pain and triumph. I saw a flicker of surprise in Lady Maddison’s eyes, a sign that I had finally landed a hit. A surge of adrenaline rushes through my veins, giving me renewed energy as I smile. With newfound confidence, my strikes become more accurate and powerful. Blow after blow, I wear her down, my determination unwavering. All of the saw was red, that same night ten years ago, the same night I lost my pride. Every single pain channel in one, in a speed each punch lands with a resounding thud, leaving Lady Maddison reeling.

How to survive. I got thrown. A lot. Bruised. Sweaty. Exhausted. But I was learning. “Not bad,” Maya said. After pinning me for the fifth time. “You’re quick. Just need to commit more.” “I’m committed.” “No, you’re hesitant. There’s a difference.” She pulled me up. “When you strike, strike. Don’t pull back. Don’t second-guess. Just do.” We went again. This time I didn’t hesitate. Struck fast. Hard.

I walked without direction, hands buried in my coat pockets, heart a knot of noise I couldn’t untangle. For years, I’d watched Clara and her boyfriend fight and make up, over and over again. I used to wonder why people did that — why stay in pain when leaving was an option? Now I understood. Love has inertia. Even when it ends, the heart keeps moving toward what it remembers. Even when you’ve decided to let go, something inside you still bleeds for what used to be. By noon, the ache in my chest had turned into something else — sharp, twisting.

Set the mug down. Then I stand, stretch, and head inside to answer the next ping on the system. Because that’s what we do. We keep choosing. Forever.

he exclaimed smiling at me. "Then Let's make you believe that it's not a dream" I said but before I could take the action he himself rushed towards me taking my face into his palm as he kissed me ever so fervently like I would just disappear if he pressed too hard. And that's how I knew that even if I was perishable and this was not forever I was happy I had this moment.

She could still feel the blinding pain from her lungs as it inevitably collapsed and she found herself subconciously lifting her right hand to lightly pound her chest, assuring herself that it's still working despite what she thought. She's desperately pleading that she's not in some kind of dream or another version of the afterlife, she knows she wouldn't be able to take that blow.

“Then we’ll need to be more careful. If there’s another player in this, it changes everything.” I nodded, my mind racing with possibilities. Whoever—or whatever—was behind this attack wasn’t done with us yet.

But for now, we could take comfort in the knowledge that we had come together as a pack and emerged victorious once again. Despite our victory, the aftermath of the battle weighed heavily on all of us. The injured were tended to, and we mourned the loss of those who didn't make it. The atmosphere in the pack was tense, as we all knew that this wasn't the end of the human threat. Sophia and I spent countless hours strategizing and planning, trying to find a way to prevent another attack from happening.

"Come on, get up," Kieran takes my hands to stand me up and I feel as if till my hair hurts. We've been training in the pack house gym for an hour, and I still haven't struck a single hit. He dodges me and moves so fast, that I only see a blur before I feel the blow, "you have to pay attention to your opponent, anticipate his/her movements." "Anticipate?" I scoff, "if I can barely see you when you hit me."