Baki Cracking His Neck Novels & Stories

"Now, can we please go to the infirmary?" "At this point… you can take me wherever you want…" Creed's face drenched in intense cringe and disappointment. His organs convulsed to suppress the creeps that danced on the back of his neck. "Please put a sock on that horny talk." Creed gave another chop on the head, "It isn't as enticing when you have bones sticking out of your skin." He turned around and was about to drag her away. However, Creed's peripheral vision told him that an old man was now standing in front, blocking their paths. With little delay, Master Bakshi came forward and said,

There was no helping it—the pain from twisting my neck was pure agony. After a while, I suddenly realized just how embarrassing the sounds I was making were. Determined to regain some dignity, I clenched my teeth and forced myself to stay silent. Above me, Miles’ voice sounded calm yet firm. "Relax. Don’t fight against my hand." I hummed in acknowledgment. The next second, I heard a crack. A sharp pain shot through my neck, and I couldn’t hold back the scream. "Ah!" At the same time, my hands instinctively clutched the front of his shirt.

Then, without hesitation, I grabbed him by the back of the neck and with a single sharp movement… *Crack.* The silence was absolute. Only the damn phone kept ringing. And soon I knew who had sent this scum to attack us. “Well, well… who would’ve thought,” I thought as I saw the name on the screen, before stomping hard on the device. The sound of the phone shattering was nothing compared to the sound of the damn intruder’s neck snapping. I knew him; he was vermin of the worst kind. “How did someone like that end up involved with…?”

I click my tongue in annoyance, the ensuing sound, piercing and loud. Who the heck does he think he is? Cutting off my thought process like that. How irritating. I twist my neck from side to side. Cracking it releases tension, something I most certainly do not need now. What I need is my stake and even more anger as I'm ready to beat the shit out of this pretty boy.

STEPHEN'S POV “Fuck!” I watched with amusement as Baekalis fell to the ground, her hands coming up to cradle her rapidly bruising knee, practically on the verge of tears. “Language, Baek,” I chided jokingly, holding back a laugh. Baekalis simply scoffed, raising her hand and flipping me off as my resolve crumbled and I burst out laughing. She scowled at me as she summoned strength to get to her feet, immediately lunging after me and tackling me to the ground as she wrapped her hands around my neck.

he smiled awkwardly at Jasper who only furrowed its brows in confusion. Then we all heard a loud crack of bones. “XENOOOO!!!!!”

“That was the deal!” “I won’t,” Cracker deadpanned before she clocked him in the jaw with the back of her foot. I flinched. I would never enjoy seeing people fight, and sent a silent thank you upwards that at least they were fighting barefoot. “Fucking shi----!” Knives mumbled as he got back up, fighting to keep his balance. “I hope you’re enjoying this.” “I would enjoy it more if you fought back,” Cracker tried to lure him, but that statement was met with a chilling laugh.

he hands over the money, "if I don't get an A I'm kicking your ass." While he's alone Baz fans out the money to count, as he's counting he feels a pair of eyes staring. Looking up from his hands Baz looks directly at the person, standing a distance away smoking his cigarette Damien doesn't avert his eyes or bother looking away, he wanted Baz to see him staring. Shoving the money in his pocket Baz walks away.

Bardo yelled. I stood up slowly and looked at Bardo as I slid in behind Gregos. I had my arms around his neck, and I started squeezing. Gregos’ eyes bulged, and I moved my arms. I applied more pressure to his neck, and I felt him slowly lose consciousness. I didn’t hesitate; I broke his neck.

Ingrid’s bravado flickers. Mikhail takes the pliers. Grips her right hand. Her pinky. She jerks. But the ties hold. He squeezes. Slow. The bone cracks like dry wood. Ingrid screams. High. Raw. The sound echoes off concrete. Blood wells as the nail tears free. Mikhail holds the bloody fingernail up to the light. “Who’s backing him?” She gasps, tears streaming, but shakes her head. He moves to the next finger. Crack.