Fight Me Novels & Stories

followed by 3 winky faces. I smirked, clearly id won somebody in the house over.

That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I pushed myself up from the couch, the room spinning for a second before settling into a slow, warped rhythm. The music slammed into my ears, louder now, heavier. My knuckles cracked as I flexed my fingers. Fight. Yeah. That always helps. I stumbled forward, shoving past bodies, ignoring the complaints, the hands that brushed against me. Someone cursed when I knocked their drink over. Didn’t care. Didn’t fucking care. I just needed something to hit. Something that wasn’t him.

I shrugged slightly and he immediately lunged forward, fist landing in the middle of the pads that lead to me wincing silently but he went on, delivering more and more punches to the pads with no gaps in between. This was the thing about him, 'Tiger Jae' or so his fans called him, had ferocity in his game, not too much wrath, just a lot of challenge in his eyes and moves. Had I been the actual receiving end of this fight, I would've definitely faltered with how he intimidated people. "Whoa, that was really good Sophie," he smiled, this time the light reaching his eyes indicating that he was out of his fighting trance. Mr. Min backed away slightly out of breath and leaned in one corner while

"What the hell? It's gonna hurt him." "Then why are you fighting? Is it not to disharm your opponent? If you don't hurt your opponent, he or she would hurt you. Do you understand?" "Yes Ma'am." "Now, fight me." I cracked my knuckles and stood the way she asked me to. I mustered my energy once more and gave her a great punch in the face. She blocked it freely with her hand. "Again. This time don't see me as Ruby. See me as a deadly opponent."

I take the risk and launch at my attacker. A burly thug over six feet tall, dispatched to terminate my life, pauses to make a move in that instant. Without hesitation, I leap at him, sending the thug tumbling to the ground, slamming him down like the massive bull he is. As we wrestle on the ground, our bodies twist and turn in a fierce struggle to get him to release his gun. He fights to gain the upper hand, but I’m determined not to let him take control. The tension hangs thick in the air, each movement fueled by adrenaline and the desire to win.

I'm a running athlete not one of those fighting types but If I don't fight, my friend will be in danger and I don't want that to happen! "Wahhhhh!!!!!" I shouted my spirit of resolve to protect my friend who is in danger. I feel the power is rising throughout my body. (Hahaha no matter how many are you! You can't defeat me!) I ready my stance as I prepare to attack those who want to capture us. They are sprinting towards me with those big muscular bodies and I sprinted towards them. I raise my fist and search for my target. First I will defeat this guy! This is the power of friendship! Take this motherfuckers!

He met my attack head-on, deflecting my strikes with precision and skill. Our movements were a blur of speed and aggression as we continuously dashed at each other in a ferocious display of power. Melvin's strikes were swift and calculated, his every move was a testament to his years of training and experience. But I refused to back down. I matched him blow for blow, my anger driving me forward. I could feel the weight of every betrayal, every broken promise, propelling my strikes with a lethal force. We fought with a fury that shook the very foundation of Velvet Moon. Buildings crumbled around us as we clashed, the echoes of our battle resonating through the streets. Neither of us held back

As we locked eyes, a mix of emotions flooded my being a surge of adrenaline, a flicker of doubt, and a burning determination to prove my worth. The clash began, and the air crackled with the intensity of our struggle. Blow after blow, we exchanged powerful strikes, each one resonating with a thunderous impact. Elijah's strength was undeniable, his every move calculated and precise. I fought with every ounce of my being, utilizing every skill and technique I had honed over the years.

I say. He laughs and slaps me, then my eyes fill with fire and anger. I look back up, and I punch him in the face, making his friends back away. He looks back at me and swings, and I dodge his punch, wind rushing against my face from his speed and use of force. Anthony's words come to my mind as I fight with him. Wear him out; you've got to be quick if you don't want to take a hit, though. Be confident. Let your body flow.

“To do what?” “To fight.”