Madness Combat Hank Fanart Novels & Stories

Useless. "@RealFan22: Disgusting! That psycho needs to be arrested. Celebrities shouldn't have to deal with deranged stalkers attacking them. #JusticeForThomas" I nod in approval. The skank might have been one of those crazy fans who want to get famous on one of those apps. What's it called? TikTok! My eyes glaze over a few of them carefully again, making sure I do not click on anything to draw attention or change the narrative. "@KnightsCoFan: She's an 'unknown party crasher.' Enough said. She was clearly looking for a payout and went straight for attention. #FakeVictim"

Hank grinned, laughing hideously, his other members joined him swords drawn Jared closed his eyes, opening them to show rigid blood pitched eyes, Hank took two steps back, he pulled out his switchblade, ready to fight” For the last time, remember this when you get to hell, Hank, the name is not commander Mike, it is commander Jared stone to you” Hank’s eyes growled in horror, the other two tried to run when they heard his name, Jared knifed them down in slow seconds, they were dead before they saw him move

“Harassing another person’s bride in public isn’t appropriate, is it?” All eyes turned to the man behind me. Conrad stood in a bespoke wedding suit, tall and statuesque. His bright eyes scanned the lawn as he strode toward me with long, purposeful steps. From expression to posture, there was not a trace of the wild, unhinged madness he had shown before. For a moment, everyone was silent. “You lunatic! Why are you here instead of the mental hospital? You really think you can be Kendall’s husband?”

I could never understand him. "Yes you can Baby, I know you can. Just finish this fight and I'm gonna take good care of you, a few more rounds, that's it." My hands found their way to his cheek, knuckles brushing over it and his head leaned towards my hand, eyes closing shut for a brief moment but before he could lose himself into the inviting arms of comfort and reassurance, Mr. Kim remembered that he was in the middle of a fighting ring with a bruised body. Suddenly the blood behind the bright blue gum shield felt too gross and the scraped up skin of his knuckles that constantly brushed against the leather of his gloves burned too much. Kim Nathan could just fucking change into another per

Swoosh! The needles flew out from his hands. “Ah…” Hank moaned. He was now blind. James grabbed his arm and pulled hard. Crack! His arm was broken. A leg stepped on his knee. Hank’s knee fractured, his body falling limply to the ground. He had been crippled. A foot stepped on his chest. James put more weight on it, breaking Hank’s ribs without much effort. Hank was stunned. Just then, he felt terrified. Was this the devil?

I was heartbroken and to stay on my feet in front of that p**ck, I used all my will-strength. There is no way that I was going to give him the satisfaction of his rejection hurting me and throwing me on my knees. “You did well, honey. That pr**k doesn’t deserve our Madeline. I don’t know why the Moon Goddess did this mistake and paired you with him. He is not even handsome than our Hank.” I looked at her in surprise and saw her shrinking her nose in disgust. Hank is one of our best warriors, and yes, he is handsome. Still comparing a warrior with a royal future beta???

It suited him. He had almond-shaped, close-set eyes. Just like Hade. The elevator dinged. Before stepping out, Hank gave me a quick glance. The door shut. Then, Hade stepped in beside me, arms crossed, examining my face. I took a better look at him—curly Korean perm, Roman nose, wide lips. "I’m going to Arrow Publishing," I announced. He blinked at me, confused. "And then what?" Hade asked, leaning close as I showed him the email on my phone. His jaw dropped, eyes scanning the screen like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Christopher knocked on the red room door. “Yeah!” a guy yelled. Christopher cracked the door open to see Hank with his dark hair disheveled and lying on his back while the big lump in the white sheet covering his lower half was moving up and down. “Uh, hey, Cootie is . . . ready to go.” “Mmm. All right, man. Let me finish up,” Hank groaned. “Sorry to rush, baby, but it sounds like you need to go ahead and finish me off.”

When the shirtless man grew closer, Gregg could see two large lightning bolt tattoos on each side of the man’s six-pack abdomen. Gregg could now see the dark figure. It was a man with white makeup on his face, along with what appeared to be black eyeshadow. The man had his pitch-black long hair tied up into a ponytail, and it looked like he had blood painted across his broad shoulders. The white makeup made the man look like Jared Leto’s Joker from the Snyder Cut Justice League. Gregg felt helpless while looking up at this shirtless, sweaty mass of raw muscle who was towering over him, holding a shiny long antique battle-ax in his left hand. Gregg recognized the man’s face through the white

"Hank uses magic to suppress shifting. Some kind of witch-crafted compound. Once you're inside the arena, you won't be able to transform. Your wolves will be suppressed from shifting." The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. Werewolves rely on their wolves. In a fight, transformation is our greatest weapon. Take that away, and we're just humans with sharper teeth and claws. Konstantin's expression darkens. "You're sure?" "Ezekiel confirmed it. Hank doesn't take chances. He keeps his fighters and his audience on an even playing field." The lieutenant with the scar spits on the ground. "Then how the fuck are we supposed to fight?"