Rider Skull Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Don't move! Drop your pistol, and alight from your bike, or I am going to blow your brains out!" The Rider alighted from the bike, slowly dropped the pistol in his hand. "Now Remove your Helmet!" Jenny commanded. The Rider didn't budge, he just stood still looking up to the roof. Two gun shots rang in the air, the wall behind him was cracked hollow with two bullets stuck in it. "I ain't joking!" Jenny said. "Remove your fu*king helmet" The rider hesitated for a second before slowly removing the helmet from his head. His long black silk hair dropped down. He had a smirk plastered on his face, with his eyes squinted, and his nose pointed. He had a tanned brown skin complexion. He sure is han

They were decent enough riders, but I didn’t know much else about them. I signed up for the bull rider event, got my number and the bull’s name, then left the office with Corbin to go get our gear. We needed to make sure everything was ready. Being a wolf, really all I would need was a helmet, but I still used the thick padded vest so I would draw attention to myself. If I got hurt while riding, a broken bone would heal within a few days, cuts would heal in a day, and stab wounds would take a week to be back to normal. Humans didn’t do that, so I had to be smart and careful.

I barely register it before the hit lands. His shoulder drives straight into the side of my head, the full force of his body slamming into me at top speed, and for a second, everything blanks out. There’s a sharp, sickening crack, my helmet whipping back, the impact rattling through my skull. My vision tilts, the ice blurring into a smear of white and red as my body lifts off my skates and crashes forward.

The tire⁠s smoked, filling the narrow space with the sm⁠e‍ll of burnin‍g rubber. ‌The rider was dressed in black leather, a blac‌k helmet obscuring​ his‍ face‍.‍ The⁠ guards hesit​ated. ⁠"Move​ along,‍" the guard yelled. "Pri⁠vat​e matter‌." Th⁠e rider didn'‍t move​.‌ He⁠ kicked the ki​ckstan‍d​ down. He stood up slowly. ‌H‍e reached up and u‍nclipped his he‌lmet⁠.

The rider had a black mask when he took off his helmet. “What is going on here? Are you shooting a movie?” he playfully asked and stared at me, “she looks tired, why don’t you play her role?” he turned to the woman and asked. “You can’t see us like this and continue to live!” the man dropped his camera and jumped with his right leg leading in the air, “Ahhhhh!!” he yelled, as he hit the ground after the motor rider instantly and tactically held his leg and smashed his head against a big fat tree.

A motorcyclist was riding one winter,wearing his jacket backwards. This method made the jacket windproof and warm. He hit some ice and fell off his bike,and was unconscious but not seriously injured. A passing motorist saw the spill and leapt out of his car to help. Seeing the biker with the backwards jacket, he was horrified,assuming the crash had twisted the man's head 180 degrees! He felt fast action was vital,so he tried to twist the cyclist's head back to it's proper position,BREAKING THE BIKER'S NECK!

It was as if no one was qualified to look at this skeleton. However, as Raider approached the skeleton and looked at it, it seemed to feel his presence and grew a little brighter. The skull in the center shone more than the rest, as if something was inside of it. Suddenly, as Raider arrived in front of the corpse, a body of light burst out from the skull and circled around Raider and the bones. Raider felt like this blob of light could easily take his life if it wanted to. Slowly, the light came to hover above the skeleton and change shape.

Strong and fast and completely uninjured. Cheers erupted across the field. The winner was lifted from his bike, celebrated, claimed as strong and worthy. But my attention had already moved to the riders still struggling to finish. One in particular caught my eye, a man whose bike had taken too much damage, who was limping across the finish line long after everyone else. He was bleeding, shaking, clearly human. Two pack members grabbed him roughly, dragging him from his bike. His protests turned to screams as they hauled him toward Zeus’s platform.

Norton was going to survive. He had come in with six broken ribs on each side and a collapsed lung because one of the ribs had punctured it. His sternum had cracked, his collarbone had snapped, and his spine was fractured as well. There was a chance he might never walk again, but we wouldn’t know that as long as he was in a coma. His skull had been fractured due to an old helmet that had been cheaper than a new one. More than an expensive mistake. With all the internal problems, Mr. Norton had nothing but a scratch on his brow, making him look peacefully asleep instead of on the brink of death.

Augustine Gosling yelled angrily. "Forget it. You don't have to wait anymore. Let Mr. Ballard go in and see him. He's the best traditional medicine doctor I've ever met," Zane said firmly. "A traditional medicine doctor? The patient has severe trauma, and a large section of his skull has caved in. Both his legs are shattered, and five of his ribs are broken. One of his ribs has pierced his liver. What on earth can a traditional medicine doctor do?" a middle-aged male doctor in his 40s asked, scoffing.