Crushed Novels & Stories

My nails dig into his skin, leave deep trails. He slams his forehead into mine. The crack echoes, blood blinds me. The world swims but I don’t let go. I drag his face down and smash my forehead against his in return. We both stumble, glass crunching underfoot, the table collapsing completely as we crash to the floor together.

The memory ignited something deep within me, a fury so consuming that it drowned out any sense of restraint. I brought the hammer down with force on his left kneecap. The sickening crunch of bone echoed through the room, followed by his piercing screams. They were loud, desperate cries of agony, but they didn't stop me. I lifted the hammer again, slamming it down with even more force. The kneecap shattered completely under the repeated blows, fragments of bone pushing through torn flesh. Blood splattered everywhere, but I didn't care.

The moment Victor received the call, his world darkened. His grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white as one of his men stumbled out the devastating news. Olivia had been taken. His men had failed. The sound of a glass shattering filled the air as Victor threw the crystal glass across the room. The expensive liquor dripped down the walls, a silent proof to his growing rage. His office, usually an oasis of control, now felt suffocating, his anger pressing against the walls like a caged beast ready to tear everything apart.

CRACK. Sebastian’s body jerked forward—then back. A sickening crack shattered the silence as Jonathan was wrenched off him and hurled like garbage. His skull slammed into the wall with a brutal crunch, the impact leaving a smear of blood across the cracked paint. He crumpled to the floor, dazed, limbs twitching like a puppet cut from its strings. For one suspended second, all Sebastian could hear was the jagged wheeze of his own breath — the high-pitched whistle of panic clawing at his throat.

Then— CRASH. The plate slipped from my hands, shattering at my feet. Silence. They heard. They saw. *Fuck*

"You're a cripple now, so let's see how you're going to fight me now." Suddenly, his hand tilted, and the entire glass of scalding hot milk poured over my arm. A sharp, burning pain exploded through my nerves as I grunted in pain, and my crutch slipped from my grip. I lost balance and crashed heavily to the floor. A searing agony ripped through my leg, and cold sweat from pain soaked my back. But what broke me more was the music box that tumbled from my arms and clattered onto the floor with a crisp crack.

--(my mind makes weird sounds). I am so angry that I swear my ears start puffing out steam. I ball my fists tightly so that my knuckles turn white under my brown skin. I'm so infuriated, that my forehead starts to sweat. These are my tells: the things that usually happen before I smack a bitch. I crisply turn to him, and my eyes shoot razor sharp darts through his, "Do you know how hard I am trying to not smack the hell out of you?!", I ask, rhetorically of course. I'm trying so fucking hard.

All I could see was red, dark shades of magenta. I kept smashing my fists against the steering wheel as I let out a scream I've been holding in. it's broken, heart-wrenching, sad. It's been buried inside for too long. Letting it out felt cathartic, therapeutic. I screamed and screamed and screamed until my voice grew hoarse and the anger dissipated. When I was done screaming, done using my car as a punching bag, I slumped against the seat, exhausted and tired. Who should I blame with this?

Her eyes meet mine and says, "Jessie, before I met you, I was broken. I was a pile of broken pieces, a mess left behind when I lost my late wife nearly three years ago. "This last year I've felt those broken pieces meld together only to shatter again a couple days ago. They shattered when you and our daughters left me for an old wedding tradition. I've never felt so lost during those hours than I did growing up. "I stand before you now and vow to love you till my last breath. I know I've come close a few months ago and I'm sorry. I vow to be your strength as the days unfold, your shelter, your home. I vow to cherish every moment I can grasp," she chokes with a smile, reaching up to wipe my t

However, his grin froze swiftly when he heard cracks from his fingers. Crack! Andrius’ punch broke Scarface’s fingers easily, then his forearm and his entire arm. All his bones were crushed by one punch. “Argggh!” The excruciating pain caused Scarface to sweat profusely. His expression distorted and the veins on his foreheads popped like worms wriggling under his skin. He looked terrifying. “That’s it?” Andrius scoffed and approached Scarface slowly. Scarface was drowned in fear. He lost the intention to fight and wanted to flee. He was so afraid that all he wanted to do was run away from the monster. In fact, he wished he had four legs to run faster.