Normal Fighting Novels & Stories

The guard replies, not once turning back to glance at me. "Do any of them still show violent behaviour?" I asked him. It was always right to get the opinions of the guards too. They were the ones who handled the patients more than the doctors did. "No sir. They have normal behaviour. Although their anger is immense they are not short-tempered anymore." He tells me. Sounded alright to me. "Call me if you need anything, sir." The guard tells me, before typing a certain sequence of numbers in the keypad. The door slides open and the guard leaves me alone. I take a deep breath and compose myself.

Norris said. Dad and I looked at each other. I told my father not to hear Norris nonsense, but he broke eye contact with me and said, "Alright. Let me hear it." Norris came forward in the center of the room and faced my father. "Alpha, let's put Natasha and Lauren in a test fight to determine which of the two is stronger and more proficient in fighting," he suggested.

They sipped quietly while Lukas and Noah tried to kill each other below. Aiden exhaled slowly. “This is… normal for them?” “Unfortunately,” Sterling said, watching Noah try to climb onto Lukas’s back like a deranged koala. “But they usually stop before bloodshed.” Aiden nodded, letting the warmth of the drink take the edge off his nerves as they fell into easy conversation. *** Getting changed did nothing to calm Lukas down. Noah kept chirping him, Lukas kept shoving Noah into things, and by the time they’d both pulled on dry shirts, they were full‑on bodychecking each other into lockers.

I opened up my bag and took the paper out. My next fight was in two days. I could feel myself getting jittery. I didn’t know why I felt nervous but I knew it won’t do me any good to feel so. I took a few deep breaths and reminded myself I gave training my best and that I’ll be okay. I have to be okay. No one is going to get hurt because of me. No one but the boy whose brother is going after your loved ones because you injured him badly during one of the fights.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed his right arm against his body as I bent his wrist inward and back and pushed him away from me. That was just the warm-up, now here's the real deal. I rotated my shoulders to relax my muscles from tension and cramps, straightening my arms as I cracked my knuckles. “I'm ready now,” I smirked, trying to provoke the boy even more. “What were we doing just now?” He frowned in confusion. Warming up in the Donne family is different from regular stretching and jogging in place. We like to – how should I put it – ah, ruffle each other's feathers and get the adrenaline pumping so that when the real fight starts, it looks real and bloody.

I watched as he hit the ground three times. A cheer so loud it made the ground shake a little, rose up from around us. Every wolf in the building ended up watching us fight. I wished suddenly the challenge hadn't been so hectic. We drew too much attention. Then I turned and held my hand out for the ex-champion. For a moment I was afraid he wouldn't take it. Fighting, even if it was friendly, often led to grudges. But his hand clasped mine and I pulled him up. The boy kept his grasp on my hand, then he hoisted it up and another cheer rose vibrant and deafening around us.

He killed her for nothing. My hatred fuelled me as we battled, he was still strong and wiry. Leaping in and out of defensive manoeuvres trying to wrong-foot me. It was obvious which of us had completed decades of attack training and which had only brute strength to rely on. Brute strength and boiling rage.

She needed to know what was happening. She was in awe watching the unknown man in front of her fight her captors. He was fighting them both at once, obviously skilled as he dodged and threw punches at Patrick and Anthony. She watched him duck and toss a punch at Patrick, who blocked it and returned it with one of his own. Anthony approached from behind, lifting his foot and looking to land a good kick when the stranger stepped back and grabbed his foot in his hand. He twisted Anthony's ankle at the same time he threw another punch at Patrick.

Please say yes. "Don't worry, Little Fighter. I got this." Max's calm reply did little to soothe me. "You know, this isn't normal, right? People don't issue challenges and fight to the death. And they don't think they can claim an actual person as the prize in one of those fights. How am I even talking about things like this?" Even I could hear the slightly hysterical screech in my voice as I dropped my head into my hands. None of this sounded right. Or real.

Instead, their actions seemed more focused on causing injuries and asserting dominance rather than outright violence. As Rudra observed the scene unfolding, he noted the calculated moves of the combatants. Their strikes were precise yet restrained, indicating a level of control amidst the chaos. It was as though both teams were engaged in a strategic dance of conflict, each trying to outmaneuver the other without escalating the situation to a lethal level.