Rickert Berserk Novels & Stories

He reached out his left arm and grabbed Ridge's hand. "I'm sorry, brother… I'm sorry I failed to get you out of here. If the legate doesn't get here in time to save us, I'll pull the pin and we'll go to hell together.” Berserk was holding onto a grenade in his hand. He would not allow himself to become the enemy's hostage. Instead, he would rather blow Ridge and himself to pieces should the enemy get near. Berserk laid on the ground with his eyes shut. The enemy's footsteps got closer.

Raymond was holding a small glass panel that he kept hovering over Creed's body parts. The glass panel had was actually a screen that was scanning and displaying all of his muscles and ligaments inside his skin. "The first time I saw a berserk skill in action, I really freaked out." Creed was sitting on a chair, letting Raymond scan his body. "When the guy activated his berserk skill, I didn't know what exactly it was. Still, I was still fascinating to see a hidden power-up like that. If I don't learn these emergency skills, I am going to be in real trouble someday. I have to be prepared because Glitch is never merciful on ignorants."

“Yeah, what do we really know about this guy? I mean, he offered himself as a fighter, but he said something that I can’t quite understand.” “What’s that?” “He said that he’d fight only if all our people were off the battlefield. Alrick, is he a berserker? Do we have one of those monsters in our pack? Running a tavern?” Alrick sighed and only nodded. “He promised me he’s in control of himself. That it only comes out on the battlefield, and he doesn’t stop until there’s nothing left living on the field. I’m thinking of sending him to NARC if they want him in reserve. You know, a last-ditch effort.”

His head was still lowered on the table. “Who,” he said quietly, “are you calling bitch?” “She came in!” Bertolt shouted, exasperated. Reinhardt slowly stood, his expression unreadable. He knew what Bertolt was insinuating. “Did you yell at her?” Before Bertolt could answer, Reinhardt was already out of the room. “Bertolt, are you crazy?” he roared. “She called you! You didn’t answer! She saved me, Bertolt!” “Rules are rules, brother,” Bertolt shot back. “What if she saw you shift into a wolf? The secret of the Schmidt pack.... gone, just like that!”

“Soren stris, the dark wolven rises, and the realm falls.” “I did not catch your name male.” I cocked an eyebrow up, palming the hilt of the dagger in between my belt. “Derick, although the wolvens at the tavern know me as Rick.” Figured. “Who is Soren?” Derick shivered, his eyes shutting briefly. “Death.” A snort sounded at my right. “What do you take us for?” “I do not speak to you. I speak to the alpha heir.” “I won't repeat myself again,” I flipped the blade from my waist belt unto my hand, swirling it between my fingers. “Do not call me that.”

The slot opened and a pair of eyes peered out. “What’s the password!” The man asked. “Gotham Nights.” Berk said. The door opened. “Did anyone follow you?” “No.” "The boss is a bit on edge. So watch your words.” “What else is new?” “The meeting is that way.” Berk enters the room. “So, nice of you to finally show up. Have a seat.” “Sorry Mr. Ricky.” “Berk took off his hat and sat down. Seated at the table were 4 of Ricky's most trusted men. Ricky was pacing and ranting.

“Not poison. A paralytic brewed with the ash of your kind. Slows the regeneration. Numbs your fire.” Terra roared in rage and lunged. Emma met her mid-charge. The clash was brutal. Terra's tail slammed against Emma’s side, but Emma twisted and landed a blow to the succubus’s neck. Terra retaliated with a kick that sent Emma skidding back. Nearby, Steve—his humanity nearly gone—roared and crushed the last of the abominations beneath his massive paws. The forest was soaked in gore. But the Berserker didn’t stop.

asked Eriwan Rocky feeling really sad and disappointed. “I don’t want to owe you anything… Told you already…” said Erito Ricky in his relaxing fashion. He went off directly after saying those cruel and harsh words. Erito Ricky didn’t turn back at all when Eriwan Rocky was looking at his back. Yet, once Eriwan Rocky had turned away, Erito Ricky turned back for a while. He clenched his fists with his gasping breath on the spot where he was standing. Tears began to roll down from the edge of his eyes.

It swung with gusto from side to side as he hit it, and I gulped nervously. I’d seen Ryker around the pack house a few times, and more often during training. He was huge, easily as big as Mustapha even though he wasn’t one of the higher-ranking wolves. He was a warrior wolf, and as he strode around the fighting ring, he looked every part his title.

“Four berserkers. Their wolf forms are hideous, just as you wanted.” Zykos laughed, clapping once with genuine delight. “They’re perfect. You did well this time, Fitz.” His eyes darkened as he looked at the berserkers. The sight inside the cage made Liliana’s chest tighten. Four wolves snarling, broken beyond recognition. Bones pushed out from their joints, their bodies carved up by deep, unhealed wounds. Flesh was rotting, barely clinging to them, like it could fall away at any moment. They were hardly alive, trapped between constant pain and madness.