Biker Mice Novels & Stories

13 stormed off, that time steadily with a determined look. Vex began to overtake, and before long, Vex was in first place. Biker No. 14 was right next to Vex's bike, and he made an attempt to knock Biker No. 13. However, Vex spotted him in time and dodged it, leaving Biker No. 14 down. He was out of the race. Vex proceeded with the race and seemed to enjoy the praises people were shouting out.

By matching the colours of the posters to the map, you could tell where each creature could be found. I couldn’t take it all in. What did it mean? Why hadn’t he told us about this? The poster with a mouse on it had the number 100 on it. “The mouse is worth a 100 chobs?” I asked. Grayson opened one of the books and started writing in it. “Oh no. A regular mouse warrior is 100 bits. But the mouse king, that’s a special reward. 500 bits.” After scrabbling around trying to get a few chobs together, suddenly we had 500 bits.

Vincent ordered, his eyes darting through the chaos, constantly scanning for danger. The scene in front of us resembled a medieval battle—both sides charged at each other like warriors in a deadly clash. For a brief moment, I was frozen, transfixed by the sheer ferocity of the fight. The bikers moved with precision, their actions coordinated like a seasoned unit, each movement deliberate despite the mayhem erupting around them. Before I could process it all, a burly biker with a mohawk and intricate tattoos running down his arm sprinted toward us. My instincts screamed at me to flinch, unsure if he was friend or foe.

“I used to think you were at the beginning.” “You want that punch?” “I’m saying…” I moved to my seat. It wobbled. Or I wobbled. Who knows? “I’m saying this was a bikers club. It wasn’t really family. Buggy and I just needed a roof over our heads and I was tired of being hunted down by the police—” “Because you were hacking into bank accounts and stealing money.”

She still wouldn't look at me. A guy I didn't recognize stepped forward, holding a red flag. He was tall and built like he'd been in a few fights. "Rules are simple," he shouted so everyone could hear. "Straight shot down the strip, first one to cross the line at the other end wins. No weapons, no sabotage, just you and the bike." Gabriel revved his engine, and the sound ripped through the night air. I did the same and felt the vibration run through my whole body. This was it.

The crowd erupted in a frenzy of cheers and screams as the bikers sped across the terrace, their faces etched with determination. A loud cheer erupted from the audience as everyone kept on yelling names of several motorcycle clubs they were supporting. “Wild Hogs!! Wild Hogs!” The voices on the left audience became louder, amplifying their excitement and eagerness to see them win “Sprint lazers!! Sprint Lazers!!” The other side of the audience screamed the name of a particular motorcycle club with a thunderous roar. And then came the name– “Asphalt warrior!!!!” The voices of the People gingered Adrian. He stood on his bike and leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with a calculative gaze as he

Jax looked confused and everyone else laughed. It was an infant sized white t-shirt that said, "I don't snore, I dream I'm a motorcycle". "Keep going. You'll figure it out." Raine smiled. Jax opened the second box and unfolded a black infant tshirt. Written on it is, "Born to be a Biker Just like my Daddy". The third box has two shirts in it in Jax's size. One is white. It has a picture of a motorcycle on it and says, “My Daddy is a Biker”.

And the first encounter was unforgettable. There's a bike parked in front of the mansion and I got on it. I was playing on the bike, suddenly someone pushed me off of the bike. I cried out and when I looked back, I first met Artemis. He's a twenty-four years old guy with a nastiest mind, deadly handsome face and figure and hot temper. From the beginning, he couldn't tolerate me at all. He wasn't happy that his father married my mother. But he wasn't like that toward my sister.

The chamber remained silent after the word extinction. Not a sound echoed through the massive room. Not even the hum. As though the structure itself was waiting. Watching. Calculating. Beside me, Jaron stood perfectly still. For once, the Alpha biker who never hesitated looked genuinely unsettled. His jaw tightened. His blue eyes remained locked on the glowing core. "Extinction," he repeated quietly. The word sounded ridiculous when spoken aloud. Impossible. Yet somehow far more terrifying.

The world turned orange as the blast ripped through the silence, sending a shockwave that rattled my teeth. "GO!" Ruan bellowed. The Phantoms surged forward, a wall of black leather and chrome screaming into the light. Gunfire erupted—not the muffled thuds of the assassins, but the heavy, rhythmic roar of the bikers' weapons. It was a symphony of chaos. I watched from the ridge, my heart in my throat. I saw Ruan dive off his bike while it was still moving, sliding across the asphalt and firing his revolver with a precision that was haunting. He was a god of the road, a creature of fire and lead.