Knuckles X Sticks Novels & Stories

My head rings, and my vision blurs from the strike. My ears ring as I fumble on the ground. What the hell? His hits are hard, too hard. I look at his gloves and notice the tape around his knuckles outlining more than knuckles. Faint gold shining through split tape I realize why he's hitting with such force. He has fucking brass knuckles on! "Hey!" I yell at the guy standing outside the ring, trying to inform him of the knuckles. I run to the other side of the ring, wiping and smearing blood from my eye from my face.

Eight points of contact: fists, elbows, knees, and shins. I start slow, throwing a couple of jabs at the dummy’s head, feeling the resistance in my knuckles as they make contact. Left jab, right cross, feeling the tension loosen in my shoulders with every hit. The strikes are solid, but I’m rusty. Too much time spent in boardrooms and not enough in the gym.

She deserved another raise. "Okay, let's see this baby," he said as he reached for the envelope opener in his drawer and cut through the box. He pulled out the brass knuckles and held them up, fascinated by how they glowed a rich bronze colour under the downlights. They were cold and heavy in his hands when he slipped them on. Not at all what he'd expected. But then again, what the hell did he expect from a weapon so barbaric? He flexed his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists as he repeated the motions a few times until he was used to the brass knuckles and felt confident enough he could punch someone without hurting himself in the process.

They then launched another duo skill, planning to finish him off but failed as he managed to dodge in the nick of time. Damn! Its almost as if they knew where I was going to strike! Even being able to block off my attacks with that stick! Wait... am I seeing this right? The stick is glowing... and it seems quite bashed up. Maybe... Xander inhaled a sharp breath as he steadied himself. He calmed himself and readied a fearsome stance. The duo grinned maliciously yet had an inviting atmosphere about them, almost as if they were taunting him with their euphoric expression.

I jumped off the branch I was on, doing a little spin in the air and fell very close to the basket and kicked it, scattering the things that could still be used on the ground. "I'm definitely going to win." I spoke as I rolled and dodged Kendrick's attack, managing to grab a half square item with a button, I pressed the button and saw an arc begin to form, made of metal and used it as a stick to ward off Dylan's mouth. Neither of them looked very tired, wolfish vigor.

The targeted expert nearly cried out in frustration, "Damn it. There are five of us. Why pick me?!" Dominic kept closing the distance. The man was terrified. Realizing there was nowhere left to run, he roared, "Fuck it! I'll kill you!" He clenched a pair of brass knuckles and charged at Dominic without hesitation. To his surprise, both punches landed squarely on Dominic's chest. Brass knuckles were deadly weapons. They could tear flesh apart and leave bloody craters. Dominic was no exception. Blood quickly seeped from the wounds in his chest. Before the man could celebrate, he heard Dominic speak softly. "It hurts... but it feels good..."

I reached up, grabbing his wrists, trying to pry the pressure off my windpipe. ​"Jax, stop!" Chloe screamed from the ground. "You're going to kill him!" ​"That’s the point!" Jax snarled. ​I managed to get a knee up, driving it into Jax’s midsection. He groaned and the pressure on my throat loosened just enough for me to twist away. We scrambled apart, both of us gasping for air in the dim light of the parking lot. ​Jax was reaching into his pocket, his eyes wild. He pulled out a heavy set of brass knuckles—the kind the rich kids kept for 'protection.'