Knuckles X Sticks Novels & Stories

He would never let himself be killed by a Strength of a level nine insect. “I admit I was being careless earlier, you won’t get another shot this time!” Ricky said as he moved his palms. Suddenly, a green pair of brass knuckles appeared on his hands. This pair of brass knuckles were different as it shone in a green hue with odd energies wafting about. “It’s time for you to die!” Ricky grovelled, it was as though bouts of energy were about to pour out from his mouth. It did come out elsewhere though as the ground below him shook and cracked. He was releasing a lot of energy.

Maddie and I ignore him; she smirks at me before she grabs a chair and sits to the side of the room where all her ranks are standing and waiting on instructions. I move to the table of instruments on the other side of the room and look over everything they have. I have no idea what most of these items are or what they do. So, I just start picking them up, inspecting them, give a little fiddle here and there, then put them down. Jean-Claude seems to panic a little more, although he looks like he’s trying to disguise it, each time I pick something up. It’s kinda fun. Finally, I go basic with some brass knuckles on both hands. I know I throw a proper, intense punch. Add in the brass knuckles an

And, just as before, Ryu nodded, insisting on being honest. "I... I slapped her," Endo stammered in fear. "Knuckle." Kenji extended his hand, and one of the men stepped forward, producing a brass knuckle from his jacket. It was a weapon worn on the hand, made of iron, about a handspan long, with four holes for the fingers. Kenji slid the weapon onto his right hand, ensuring that all four fingers, except for the thumb, fit into the holes, and tightly clenched his fist.

I wouldn't be surprised if several of the bones in my knuckles are cracked. Nino circled me. "You're good but you seem a bit rusty." Understatement. I am rusty. "Your kicks are strong," he assessed. "But you need to gain more muscle in your arms. You punched me a while ago and it tickled." "My punches don't tickle," I defended. "They tickle, Dylan and I almost heard it squeak too, like a rubber duck." My teeth clicked in annoyance. I'll show you.

Adriano ⫘☠︎︎⫘ Sweat dripped into my eye, but I didn’t blink. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the room. Just bare knuckles wrapped in old tape, no gloves, no mouth guards, just pain and a fucked-up kind of therapy. Vincenzo’s knuckles cracked against my jaw again, and I tasted copper, fuck, he always hit like a truck. I spat blood to the side and stepped back into him, shoulder-first, slamming into his chest to knock him off balance.

He didn’t utter when his hand tendons were broken. Then, behind Yang Xiao, a person suddenly appeared silently. He held a double-section stick in his hand and threw it hard at the back of Yang Xiao's head. Yang Xiao bent down and turned sideways to block his attack. He turned back and kicked at the wooden stick whose tendons had been cut off. The two sticks hit the wooden stick, causing a burst of violent sparks.

Sleep State Confirmed. Marcus opened his eyes. The Chrome Diamonds gleamed in the dim light. He raised his hands, staring at the faded, blood-stained athletic tape wrapped around his knuckles. Slowly, silently, he let his silver mana bleed out from his core, soaking into the fabric. The tape shifted, turning into a metallic, liquid state. The Liquid Silver hardened, forming invisible, dense brass knuckles over his skin.

I raised my right fist again, raining a series of heavy, systematic punches down onto the back of the hand the clerk still had wrapped around the knife's handle. I hit him repeatedly, targeting the fragile network of joints and small bones in his wrist and knuckles. Crack. Crack. Crack. I didn't stop until I felt the structural integrity of his wrist completely give way beneath my knuckles. The joints shifted unnaturally, the bones dislocating completely under the relentless pressure of my fists.

He wasn’t winded though, because he followed up with a barrage of jabs that quickly let me know that he’d gone through training of some kind. But this wasn’t even the worst part of it all. The bastard had on a pair of identical brass knuckles, which told me that he wasn’t taking any chances with me—one blow from those and I’d break something. “You’re not going to go easy on me?” I asked breathlessly, dodging his attacks while trying to keep both of the other men in my line of vision lest I make the mistake of letting them flank me. “I’m only a girl.” I was only half-joking, and the man smirked, his eyes glinting with a sick mischief that told me he was enjoying it.

He was barely holding himself back from flinging himself at the guy. Silas looked at Dacre and gave him a thumbs up to show that he was fine. Their eyes met for a brief second but it was more than enough of an opening for his opponent who quickly flung a fist at Silas. He coughed blood as his opponent leered at him. I saw the other guy’s hand and noticed that it was smeared with blood. But to my shock, he was wearing a brass knuckle weapon that had a sharp pointed knife like edges on every finger.