Black Bulls Vice Captain Novels & Stories

The Capo dei Capi was still lounging in his seat like a king surveying his court as he had introduced them with a lazy flick of his fingers as if they were nothing more than pieces on a chessboard. First, there was Vincent Bianchi an older man with silver hair and sharp and fox like eyes that never seemed to miss ant thing. His suit was crisp and his posture relaxed but there was something in the way he held his glass all firm hat told me he wasn’t a man to be underestimated. I had seen his type before, the ones who spoke softly but carried the kind of influence that could make or break a man with a single word.

Not to mention Vice Captain and the knight troupes, na basang-basa ang shirt sa loob ng armor. Vice Captain Illiad, walking ahead of the coach, had already driven away several beasts rushing down from the mountains. We didn’t encounter any bandits on the way, only some creatures. Ito ay malinaw na responsibilidad niya bilang isang bantay, but the fact that he beat off the vicious beasts without startling the horses definitely impressed me

he yells. I shake my head. "Like you'd leave without me!" I see him smile his goofy smile. He's missing four teeth in the front and has two silver teeth in the back. His greying hair is tied clumsily behind a dirty and worn down green bandana, making him look like a crazy old man. He may look crazy, and is crazy, but he has the biggest heart out of anyone. He's treated Nate and I like his very own children for years now. Ever since our first captain, Black Blood, was fatally injured during an on-going war and in his last dying breath named Nate the new captain. Black Blood took us to be his very own children since he never had any of his own. The memory of him brought tears in my eyes but I

“I’m not exactly a sports person.” “You will be after tonight. The energy is addictive. Hawthorne versus Westfield is always brutal—especially because of the captains. Brad Walker versus Sebastian Hale. Pure rivalry.” I raised an eyebrow. “Sebastian Hale?” “Captain of Westfield. Tall, insanely talented, and actually a decent guy from what I’ve heard not the cocky asshole type like Brad and his crew. The stands go wild whenever he’s on the ice. Total heartthrob material.” She winked. “You’ll see why.”

Nathan happened to walk by, stick in hand. I figured that as captain he'd at least do something about the toxic bullying. Instead he was frowning, still griping to the vice-captain. "Our blue-line defense was like wet paper today. Bunch of useless idiots." He didn't even glance at the jerseys strewn across the floor, just took one long stride over them and strode off. Watching his arrogant back, I let out a bitter laugh. Back in my dorm that night, with nowhere to vent, I logged straight into my hockey-forum alt account: IceTyrant.

I felt sorry for him, being a captain of a great football team entails a lot of responsibilities, commitment and expectations from what I've seen. "I really admire your strength and like you said 'you won't trade it for anything' So just keep doing your thing and enjoying it, cause there comes a time when you can't do it anymore, and I'm sure you won't regret it, okay?" I tried to be comforting and encouraging which I'm not good at. Ugh. I hope I made sense though. "Yea. Listening to you speak is a good feeling too" he said which made me smile and I felt a little hopeful

The Bulls knew since Nina had not legally reported any claims against Charles, they couldn't do anything tonight, so General Bull looked at Ethan and said, "Are you hitching a ride with us?" Just then Chief Rasch approached the group with handcuffs and uttered, "I am sorry General, but he is still a criminal with serious charges against him, and he belongs in our holding cells." Then he approached Ethan with the cuff, and Nina could feel her spirit leave her as she uttered in a barely audible whisper, "Please no... not again..." "Take a step back now! That's a command." Mr. Bulls said, shocking Ethan, Avan, and even his father, to see the Lieutenant General standing behind Ethan. "We have ac

Fists are bumped, backs are slapped, and names are traded. Carter is able to pass through the circle that surrounds me. If you've been living under a rock, it's Jean "Carter" Ludovic, the Bears' captain and a living legend in every way. It's nearly overwhelming to declare that I'm a fan once more. With a constipated croak that nearly sounds like my name, I am able to stifle it. Although it's not my greatest work, I'll accept it because it's an improvement. "Bennett."

This decision came on the recommendation of Lloyd Wright, the owner of the Billings Wolves and Jeremy's close friend. Chris Wixson's credentials were nothing short of legendary. As the greatest player in Wild West Indoor Football League (WWIF) history, Wixson had led the Billings Wolves to the first OK Corral Bowl and secured the championship in style. His career saw him guide the Wolves to the OK Corral Bowl seven times, claiming victory in six of them. The records he held—career completion percentage, passing yards, and touchdowns—were a testament to his unparalleled skill and leadership. When Wixson expressed his interest in coaching, Jeremy saw an opportunity to bring his wealth of knowl

“Oi, brother. Stop accusing me in your mind. If you don’t wrap up what you are doing here immediately, I will keep on watching you.” “Who are you?” Instead of feeling relaxed with her soothing voice, the vice-captain only felt a sense of crisis. That person knew what was running through his mind. “A local in the slums.” The lady slightly tilted her head to the side. Confused why he needed to know about her. She could feel the tensed muscles on his body and his suspicions. The vice-captain didn’t believe what she said. “Put your hands up,” he ordered nervously.