Next Strike Novels & Stories

He reached out slowly and pressed the cold blade against my belly. I froze. “Let’s see if your baby likes the truth too.” His hand was steady, the knife grazing my skin. And then—he paused. Right there. That tiny moment of stillness was all I needed. I gripped the bat tighter and swung it. Hard. But I missed. The bat whooshed past his face and hit the wall instead. His eyes widened. Then darkened. “You bitch,” he spat. “How dare you?”

Anyone watching from afar would’ve mistaken it for an intimate moment. “Linnet’s in the hospital. They found traces of mercury in her system. Did you have anything to do with it?” Before I could finish, Eric spun me around, his hand already rising to strike. I ducked just in time and swung a kick into his leg. He staggered back, eyes blazing. He lunged at me again, but before he could touch me, I jumped, wrapping my legs around his neck and dragging him to the ground. In a flash, I was on top of him, a small dagger pressed against his throat.

I told him. "Fine. Don't move." He ordered and moved behind me. I held my breath in anticipation of the strike. He snapped it across my lower ass and the slight sting flared into a burning sensation. This was too light to truly feel anything. It hardly touched me. "Again?" I need to be sure. The cane made a low swooshing sound in the air as Nik laid another strike an inch below the previous one. "Fuck." A cry wretched out of my mouth and tears spurt in my eyes at the searing sting.

“You don’t own—” The first strike lands across the back of her thigh. Through fabric. Sharp. Controlled. Her gasp isn’t fear. It’s shock. The second comes slower. Deliberate. Not enough to bruise. But enough to remind her. “To understand,” I continued calmly, “that recklessness has a cost.” Three more strikes. Spaced. Never escalating. Never cruel. When I stopped, I rested my palm briefly where the heat bloomed—sealing the message rather than prolonging it.

The momentary distraction nearly costs me as his next strike barely misses my shoulder. Why is he bringing this up now? "Don't you think this is an odd time for that conversation?" I manage to say, blocking another strike. “Actually, I think now’s perfect,” he replies smoothly, his fist already darting toward my midsection. His words distract me just enough—I react too slow. The hit lands solidly, driving the air from my lungs. My stomach caves under the impact, and I double over slightly, a wave of pain radiating outward.

Another strike. Closer. Stronger. It’s learning too. Adjusting. Mirroring me. That’s bad. Really bad. Because if it adapts faster— I lose. And if I lose— I don’t just die. I become that. “No!” I push harder. Faster. Breaking rhythm. Breaking pattern. Unpredictable. And for the first time— it hesitates. Just a second. Just enough. I strike. Precise. Targeted. It stumbles back.

He was twenty yards away, watching. "The next time you’re in my path, disappear," Zack added, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "You only get three strikes. You just used your last one." He sent out another jolt of energy, hitting her nervous system just hard enough to knock her out. He stepped back as she slumped into the grass, feeling a surge of genuine pride.

The next move would not be a test. It would be a strike. One designed not to force Lyra to react— —but to force her to choose.

At the next moment, the energy condensed around Brian's palms before ruthlessly striking Woody. Amid the piercing noises of explosion, the ground beneath Brian's feet cracked bit by bit. He had aimed his move at Woody earlier with overwhelming power. His vicious technique left everyone in awe! "So, that's Strikerine's signature move, Quintuple Lightning Strikes. It's amazing." "That brat will certainly die a miserable death!" The audience's eyes were glued to the stage as they held their breath, not wanting to miss any exciting details. Suddenly, a deafening explosion erupted as two figures collided with each other. Right after that, dust and smoke billowed up everywhere on the stage!

“If you can disrespect ladies, you don’t even know then I’m sure you would be even worse to the ones that you do know. Next time, you come down this street stay away from my house our I’ll make sure to sock you again.” The boy she hit in the face covered his mouth. Demi burst his lip with one punch. He was embarrassed and upset that she did that. He started to raise his hand to hit her back. Demi wasn’t afraid of him. She stood there daring him to hit her. The taller boy had been watching her with interest. When his friend tried to race his hand to hit her, he grabbed his arm, speaking in an almost quiet voice. “You shouldn’t hit girls.” His friend still had his mouth covered as he tried to