Kickin It Milton Novels & Stories

It was the royal guard’s team leader—Milton Snider! Milton still had a stench of alcohol on him at that moment. “Milton, what are you doing? Go away…” Florian frowned and glared at Milton while softly reprimanded. The Emperor was in the middle of announcing the results, yet Milton dared interrupt him at such a crucial moment. 'Is he courting death?' At the same time, the New World Emperor was displeased while looking at Milton and said, “Milton, you can tell me later whatever you want to say!”

I watched the guy's every move. The way he shuffled his feet, his posture and even the way held his fists. The bell rang, and some music started blaring again. It was 'Awake by Godsmack'. He jumped for, and I ducked just in time for him to miss. I shot back up and remembered what Liam said. Kicking is my strong point. I can thank six years of soccer for that.

That exchange just now was unimaginably nerve racking, but throughout that entire ordeal his number one priority was to protect his trusted friend. Milton tugged off his hand in anger, "speak for yourself. That fire ant that calls herself a mage only caught me off guard. Watch how I go down there and teach those arrogant youngsters a lesson called respect your elders." Milton walked away, ready to dive back into the fight. His frustration had reached a point where he couldn't stand himself. The feeling of running away from a bunch of kids left a foul taste in all seven orifices. Not just his mouth.

Zoey We found a rhythm. Milo sat on the floor and drilled the knock like a secret handshake. Jarek listened to the world with the whole line of his body. When footsteps passed—light, heavy, hesitant—he named them. “Kitchen carriers.” “Outer rotation.” “Messenger running fast.” When I guessed right, one nod—gold star. Milo tried to fix my dead phone by whistling scales at it until the screen flickered an offended gray. “See? Progress.”

Jessie Charles' son pointed at me and laughed, while Raymond Lockhart stroked the little boy's head and spoke lovingly, "Yes, she deserves it. She is a bad person. She stays in our house and refuses to leave." Immediately, their son picked up rocks on the ground and pelted them at me relentlessly. There was even a large red brick that landed on my head. "Bad! Bad woman! I'll crush you!" I was rolling on the ground in pain. My head was smashed and bloody, and my internal organs were slowly eroded by the poison. I spat out large mouthfuls of blood. The whole family grinned and devoured my miserable condition. Jessie carefully wiped off the blood stains on her son's hands.

Anthony guiltily avoided my gaze as he stammered a response, "M-My mom told me about it… She's just doing it for my good, for our future…" What a load of crap.

he had head on taunted Zeneca making my enemies- majorly disgruntled suitors and jealous freaks among the crowd, crack up laughing and cheering at Micalo’s response. “SAYS THE ONE WITH A THROBBING CL*T,” Zeneca snapped back and that’s when the mighty kick of my leg landed straight in his jaw, flinging off his face, painfully in the opposite direction. I am sure the high resolution, huge monitors around the arena showed his spit and blood flying off in air too.

And this time, he’d gone too fucking far. I hurried around the corner to the side of the arcade where I knew the Miltonians usually hung out. By Miltonians, I meant the students of Milton Academy. Even though the arcade was neutral ground for both schools, that didn’t stop us from marking our own territories. The Miltonians had their domain and so did our school.

Milo retorts, dismissing my mood. I relax a little, reminding myself that these are my friends. They mean me no harm. “Yeah, Kas just fell asleep,” I look at my phone, wishing she was still awake, “Gimme a second, I need to send some te-.” Milo laughs maniacally before I finish my sentence. “What’s so funny?” I drop my arms, feeling a little annoyed at his outburst. “I’m watching the video of Kas kicking your ass around the training ring,” he wipes his tears of laughter as I hear people oohing from his phone.

​But that wasn't what made me stop in the doorway. ​Milo was sitting on the floor right next to him. My fearless eleven-month-old nephew was happily chewing on the heavy, silver buckle of Kaelen’s combat boot. Every time Kaelen moved a piece of wood, Milo would babble loudly, reaching his chubby hands up to slap Kaelen’s thick, tattooed arm. ​Instead of getting annoyed, the terrifying, lethal giant of Thornwood Peaks would just pause, let Milo hit his arm, and softly trace the baby’s cheek with his giant thumb before going back to work.