Cobra Bubbles Knuckles Novels & Stories

Playing with the tips of the knives when he was finished cleaning each one. "This," he started holding up the first knife Colby had seen him clean, "is very special. The blade slices through the skulls of animals easily. It would be as easy as cutting…" He trailed off for a moment and Colby figured he was trying to find the human word for it so he would understand. "Butter," he finally sated, "if it were to cut you." The piercing look in Cobra’s eyes as he informed Colby of that disturbing information was enough to make the young male shit his pants. As a precautionary measure, to make sure such a thing would not happen, Colby tightened up his sphincter.

“It seems that you won’t accept my suggestion. If that’s the case, die then. “Remember the name of your killer. It’s Hubert Cumberdale.” A remnant shadow approached Kayson when the voice died away! Kayson did not dodge nor hide. Instead, he channeled his lightning energy to his palm and slapped the opponent! A bang was heard. The remnant shadow was blasted away before slamming into a pillar. It was a ghastly scene to behold because Hubert’s body had actually bent into the shape of an arc on the pillar like his body was made of rubber, and the impact was neutralized. “That’s Soft-body Technique!”

And then he’d crossed his skinny-ass arms across his fuckin’ Metallica tee like he was ready to throw down or something. Punk ass poser. His knuckles hurt. He opened his eyes and held his hand in front of his face. Yeah, he’d punched something. Fingers scraped. Knuckles swollen. Black and blue and sorta yellow and, fuck me, red? Broken? He flexed his fingers. Nah, this was a wood punch, not concrete. Not flesh or bone. Wood. “It’s shit,” he’d screamed at Spike, his fists clenched. Fuck counting back from ten. “It’s fucking shit, man. I just want it fixed. It’ll take two fuckin’ seconds!”

S) As T.A.S said, frustrated by the pair in the globe. Some of the goblins turned their attentions to me, they started to scream and lunges towards me. "Do I look like a pushover to you?….BBUUKKK!!!!…". "GGAAHH!!…..CCRRAAACKKKKK!!!…BOOMMM!!!!…". (Goblins) No chance whatsoever, with full power low kick that lands on the goblins face, the goblin that lunges towards me was sent hurling towards another goblin behind it and plastered themselves on the duo protective dome.

He could not believe that the fist technique he cultivated had been blocked easily by the enemy. ”You’re garbage!” Chase sneered and swept a kick with his left leg. The kick caused a dent in Bobby’s chest. He splurted blood from his nose and mouth as he flew off from the impact. He ended up crashing into a stone house.

My five teammates flopped on the ground moaning and writhing, covered in gloop. The jabberwock continued to thrash about, and then ejected a stream of foul smelling fluid that bubbled as it spread out on the ground, along with a number of carcasses in various states of decomposition. Among them was a large boulder-like figure, skin peeling and showing dark flesh underneath. Keezy rolled onto his hands and knees and slowly rose to his feet, struggling to keep his balance. The jabberwock again rose into the air and opened its mouth, this time emitting a piercing shriek. Then it fell flat and flaccid, releasing one last dribble containing Kungen curled into a ball.

My head rings, and my vision blurs from the strike. My ears ring as I fumble on the ground. What the hell? His hits are hard, too hard. I look at his gloves and notice the tape around his knuckles outlining more than knuckles. Faint gold shining through split tape I realize why he's hitting with such force. He has fucking brass knuckles on! "Hey!" I yell at the guy standing outside the ring, trying to inform him of the knuckles. I run to the other side of the ring, wiping and smearing blood from my eye from my face.

He is lying. I stared at his hidden hand. A heavy wooden scrub brush falling from six inches up does not crush a man's knuckles. It does not split the skin open like that. The only thing that could cause that specific, brutal injury was someone pressing their full weight down onto the bone with their heel.

A crack sounds under my knuckles as air whooshes out of his mouth. I pull my arm back, readying to deliver another blow, but he grabs my head and headbutts me with a thundering force, I groan in pain and stumble back. He runs forward again, trying to punch as I weave to the right, grabbing hold of his arm and throwing it over my shoulder. Pulling his wrist down, I move to break his elbow. He spins out of my hold and steps into me.

He asked, pointing to my friends and the guys. "Oh, um, just some witnesses." I smiled, and he nodded. There was no further information was needed, which I respected from him. After a quick check-up from an irritated Doc, I walked over to an open punching bag and took off my jacket to reveal my sports bra, and started to warm up. The others just stood there watching. "Damn. Cobra, don't kill the bag. Save it for the sorry guy." I calmed down and turned to smile at Flame.