Rider Skull Novels & Stories

The hum of the crowd took on a strange edge. Instinct prickled at the back of my neck. I turned. Ryder was storming toward me. He didn’t skate over. He didn’t hesitate. He shoved his way off the bench area during the break, helmet already ripped off and tucked under his arm, his strides long and furious as he cut through the narrow space separating the rink from the stands. People moved out of his way without thinking. He looked… unhinged. His face was flushed red, dark hair damp with sweat and plastered to his forehead. His jaw was clenched so tightly I could see the muscle ticking, over and over, like it was on the verge of snapping. His eyes locked onto mine with such intensity it felt li

I hissed, kicking the kickstand up. I revved the engine, the vibration traveling through my spine, but the noise couldn't drown out the image of Jax’s hand sliding down to Lila’s waist. He caught my gaze over her shoulder and gave me a slow, mocking salute. He knew. He knew exactly how to get under my skin without throwing a single punch. "Line 'em up!" the flag girl shouted. I pulled my bike to the line. To my left was 'Viper,' a Skulls rider who rode like he had a death wish and no one to go home to. To my right, unexpectedly, was Jax on a sleek, blacked-out Ducati.

If there's an injury in his skull, I can't heal it. "Tille, I'm going to remove Adekin the same way, do you think it's possible?" I asked. "I don't think so. He has broken quite a few bones. He broke his ribs. I'm scared that if we move him it might puncture an important organ." Tille replied. "Alright. I'll just sink the earth just in case these logs fall, it won't crush him." I said. All that's left to do now is for Healer Jan to arrive.

A black shape drifts around the corner of the alley, tires screeching on the wet pavement. The bike is massive. A beast of matte black steel. The rider doesn't slow down. He accelerates toward the Reapers blocking the exit. They scramble, diving off their bikes as the black Harley plows through them. Metal screeches against metal. Sparks shower the alley like fireworks. The rider skids to a halt ten feet from me. He plants a boot on the ground, stabilizing the bike. Drakon. He’s not wearing a helmet. His dark hair is plastered to his skull. His face is a mask of pure, concentrated violence.

With those words, Frank blew at the whirlwind, and it rose to the skies before disappearing. With that done, Frank picked up a rock and threw it. There was a crack of sonic boom, and as the conical smoke faded, a man gasped audibly. "Ow!" The air whistled as a body fell, and the biker turned to find a person crashing down in the middle of the road. It was obviously the white-haired youth, whose left shinbone was broken and poking out of his leg.

Julian After River made his sister change tops — twice — we get into his Challenger and head out to Ezra Kane's. He lives on the outskirts of town in a small farm. Few know it, but Ezra Kane used to be a professional bull rider. He came onto the circuit at age eighteen and was forced to retire at age twenty-two after getting kicked in the face one too many times. The last one left him with three cracked vertebrae, a cracked eye socket, and a jaw wired shut for six weeks.

Raven burst out laughing " That's so funny, how can you even see a person's skull through thier head" " You're right, it's a joke" " Wait a minute? Are you for real... Raven hastily ammended once she saw the look on his face. " I'm a skull researcher, I've been researching skulls since I was little, it's a boring topic and I don't want to bore you to death with it" " I want to know more, I promise, it's not boring, I'm always willing to learn about new things" She should have been horrified when she heard him say he was into skulls but what she felt was the exact opposite.

800 pounds of machine and rider rolled over his spine. A wet crack split the air. The man screamed like a slaughtered pig as his back snapped, and when the treads crushed his skull, the scream cut off at once. The three remaining attackers heard every sound, and their faces turned ghastly white. They bolted harder, as if chased by a devil in the snow. They were right. They were.

I spun around to face Skull, who was cowering behind me despite being taller than me. "..." I struck his large head, which I could barely reach with this physique. And he covered it with both of his hands as if it were excruciating. He appeared to be one of those football players who claimed to be hit in the head while the collision was made on their legs. People would believe that even if it was terrible acting. "It's now your time. You're stuck with this one because Nero took the other." [Sentient of Cursed Eladrin] Rank-Unique???

I don't think straight at the best of times, but, hell, Dagger fries my brain. I almost trip over a tire, so I turn my attention to where I'm placing my feet. There's a lot of junk behind the clubhouse. I guess the great MC cleanup didn't make it this far. The truck Skull leads me to is as dilapidated as the house. I'm surprised when it starts up immediately. My car is parked next to the truck, and I ignore it. "Seat belt," Skull says. I find that funny. He rides a motorcycle with no helmet and forces me to buckle up?