Red Right Hand Peaky Blinders Novels & Stories

I said pressing my eyes hardly closed, trying to calm my unregular heartbeats. Suddenly it happened. I felt his hand moving! I know I did! I backed off like someone just put John's hand on fire! I looked at him, his eyelids were moving rapidly, but I think he didn't had enough strength to open them. I put hand on my mouth to stop myself from screaming as my sight became more and more blurry in every second! When his hand moved again, I couldn't help it but to press his hand so hard, mine became numb and blue but I could feel his twitch again and I literally jumped off my chair!

He felt like scratching it, but couldn't to avoid making the injury got worse. Trying so hard not to touch his neck, he groaned and used his hand to caressed his hair backwards and then returned it to the steering as he tried to focus when suddenly, something happened. His sight vision suddenly got blurry in some kind of colour. He could no longer clearly see the road just as every human could see it, but instead, he saw things in red. The road turned red, the other vehicles moving in front of him and beside the other side of the road, he saw them in his red vision. It was as if his eyes were covered with a red lacy material, preventing him from seeing clearly.

It worked particularly well against guided missiles, as long as they were from the same tier. The Red Eye Assisted Aim Module had been placed over the other eye. Its red, gleaming lens giving the Fantasia a menacing look. The Red Eye performed well against mechs without ECM, helping pilots keep their aim onto enemy mechs once they acquired their targets. Aim assistance was practically essential in all low-tier flying mechs. Pilots simply couldn't aim steadily enough if they jerked around in the air.

Richard saw his blank, idiotic stare—eyes turning milky white beneath their lids. “Was it huge?” asked Lawrie. “Did she tell you? How huge was it?” Lorraine went pale. “Admiral Jack?” said Richard, teeth clenched. “Can you see me, sir?” He passed a hand in front of his eyes. “Blind,” Lawrie said, and Richard felt his guts twist. “We’re blind, all of us here . . . but not you.” After a few calming minutes they led him in the direction of the vehicle, Lorraine hooking his BluBlockers back in place over both ears. Her high heels clocked along the pavement as they walked him carefully. Richard heard a dog barking somewhere.

Uncontrolled Fury. I scroll down with my thumb. Underneath the bold text is a video clip, heavily edited and sliced into five-second loops. It shows me snapping the one-eyed wolf’s arms back until the bone cracks. It shows me forcing the blue, drugged drink down his throat. It shows him thrashing on the dirty floor, his trousers soaked in his own blood as he grovels. The context is completely gone. There is no mention of the spiked glass. There is no mention of him targeting Eliora. To anyone watching, I am just a violent lunatic who snapped in a crowded venue.

My muscles pumped with a dark, inexhaustible power fueled entirely by violation. I was completely blind to the beauty of the snow-capped peaks around me. I was blind to the steep, deadly drops of the mountain ridges. My vision was a distorted, blood-red filter that registered only one thing in the entire universe: the glowing, dark crimson tether attached to my heart.

Malik thundered. "She’s passed out, Alpha," Melinda said in a small panicky voice. I could spot fear in her eyes. Well, why won’t she be afraid? He took off his hands from Lucca, and Lucca’s body fell freely to the ground. He shifted his gaze to Melinda. It astonishes me that although Malik is blind, he can still accurately guess the respective position of everyone in a room, even though they don’t utter a single word. I managed to look at his face, and his cold gaze shot through me like a blast of ice. “You’re also part of this scheme, right?” Malik grimaced, walking slowly towards Melinda.

Hence, it wasn't just my eyes, but also my weapon. The screeching of metallic objects colliding ripped through the silence of the living room. The impact sent strong vibrations through the cane, causing my fingers to go numb. My ambusher clearly hadn't expected that I would have such extraordinary reaction speed since I was blind. With a cry of pain, he dropped the metal bat to the ground. Nonetheless, I didn't give him a chance to catch his bearings. Using his earlier cry to pinpoint his location, I lashed out with my cane, accurately jabbing him right in the abdomen.

A painting hangs beside his desk. I don’t know why it draws me in, but I find myself walking closer. Thick strokes of midnight blue and charcoal gray layer the canvas. In the center — barely visible unless you truly look — a thin streak of gold cuts through the darkness. Not bright. Not loud. Just there. A quiet fracture of light. It isn’t something you glance at. It’s something you feel. My fingers almost lift to touch the textured paint. Why would a blind man choose something so visual?

"You think you can play these little games? I'll teach you what it feels like to push a Draven Alpha, Omega, too far. I'll teach you what it feels like to make a fool of me!" His hand moved from the place around her arm, his fingers clamping at her throat, not choking her precisely, but gripping hard enough to make her gasp for air. Black spots swirled on the edges of Rhea's vision, and the world around her spun. The connection screamed between them, a mad, raw energy that echoed Blaze's fury.