Damage Novels & Stories

Daimon’s eyes burned with a sharp intensity, daring him to say the wrong thing. The doctor took a steady breath before responding carefully, sensing Daimon’s unrelenting scrutiny. "Mr. Blackwood, the amount of blood was misleading. The majority came from a single head wound. She’s an exceptional driver—at the critical moment, she minimized the impact, avoiding catastrophic injuries. While the accident looked severe, the actual damage was not as extensive as it seemed. We ran thorough checks, twice. Apart from the leg fracture, the rest are superficial wounds. And as for the forehead injury, we’ve treated it meticulously—there won’t be any scarring. You can res

She promptly gestured toward a live broadcast screen in the room, showcasing the second semi-final match. ### *SLASH!* [Angus' Damage Absorption Threshold: 74% >> 53%] Angus' body was brutally slashed by a wind sword, its silver aura surrounded by a dark green hue and transitioning to white at the tip. "What an unbelievable sight! Angus's hit points have been reduced by nearly half due to Gabrielle's one-sided slashes, and he hasn't been able to retaliate!"

She looked down at Bima’s bleeding leg. "This is bad, Bima. We need to find a safe place immediately." Bima nodded, his face deathly pale. The pain was truly unbearable. He gripped his Indomie tightly; the wrapper was now slightly torn. [Warning! Your Indomie has sustained 'Moderate Damage'! Risk of 'Flavor Debuff' has increased (10%)!] [Warning! The wound on your left leg is worsening! Risk of 'Infection' has increased (50%)!]

Damien fought back fiercely, moving faster than their eyes could follow, but the poison already circulating through his blood from the first bullets had begun weakening him. One of the men raised his gun. The bullet struck Damien’s leg. He stumbled. Another bullet pierced the same leg. A sharp, burning pain tore through him, and Damien let out a furious growl as his leg buckled beneath him. He crashed onto the ground. “What…?” he gasped, trying to push himself back up. His hands trembled against the dirt. Something was wrong.

The fucking condom broke. Fuck. His breathing increased. Bonnie, on the other hand, asked confused as she felt the nervousness radiate from Lorenzo. "What's wrong?" "Fuck." Lorenzo only mumbled. "Lorenzo you're scaring me. What's going on? Is Grace okay?" Bonnie wobbled over to him, touching his shoulder. "The fucking—Shit!" He exclaimed, dropping the bin.

But victory tasted like ash. Damian lay on the cracked concrete, blood pooling beneath him from the deep gash across his side where the Ruler’s final tentacle had struck. His breathing was shallow, ragged, the faint blue glow under his skin flickering erratically from the mutation’s last throes. The collar around his throat was streaked with blood, the platinum chain tangled across his chest. His eyes still sharp, still burning with that possessive fire locked on Alex as he knelt beside him.

Sera walked over to Damian and crouched in front of him. “You’re in pain.” It wasn’t a question. Damian exhaled slowly. “Manageable.” Her eyes hardened. “That wasn’t the question.” He didn’t answer immediately. Which told her everything. “How bad?” “Seven.” Nikolai’s eyes widened. “That’s bad!” Damian glanced at him. “I’ve had worse.” Sera stood up sharply. “That’s enough for today.” Damian’s head lifted immediately. “No.” The firmness in his voice made the technicians glance at each other.

Whoever was holding it didn’t care about framing, only about capturing pain. Damian’s head was bowed at first, hair damp with sweat or blood. When he lifted his face, my breath snagged. His left eye was swollen. Not the neat purple of makeup the ugly, uneven puffiness of real trauma. One cheekbone sat slightly wrong, like it had taken a hit it hadn’t fully recovered from yet. I paused the video and zomed in. His lips were split not cleanly, but torn. Blood had dried unevenly at the corner of his mouth, dark and cracked.

Torento asked in the darkness. "Yes Boss." Terry replied. A bang was heard, the door was kicked open and just at that moment the light came back. Josh was standing by the door, a bandage wrapped around his head and some wierd looking glasses on his face. He held a baseball bat in his right hand. "Hello," he smiled, the lights went off again. There was a bang, followed by another. Someone shouted in pain, it was one of Torento's men and a crack was heard, Alex didn't need to be told to know that was a bone.

Jack's ridiculous friends laughed showing their weird-shaped tooth. Ace didn't reply, he stayed silent. Jack chuckled and looked at him with a glare. A sudden gush of pain jolted through Ace's body. His stomach ached, his arms lost tension and his legs began to weaken. 'He will not get the better of me,' he thought as he dropped to the ground. His tongue was soaked in the taste of blood. Bruised and wounded, with a leg in agony, His head was pounding. Jack's kicks and punches kept on raining his body and he couldn't do anything.