Spell Knuckles Novels & Stories

Once there is a light covering of blood over my knuckles, I stop and look at him and growl. "Why are you attacking this pack?" He smiles and spits in my face. I lift my hand and swipe it down, smearing and removing the blood and spit. I chuckle and move to the table that was behind me by the door. I pick up a thin silver knife. I could use my claws, but if I do that, he will heal quicker than I want him to. I walk back over to stand in front of him. I lean over him and whisper in his ear,

I raised my right fist again, raining a series of heavy, systematic punches down onto the back of the hand the clerk still had wrapped around the knife's handle. I hit him repeatedly, targeting the fragile network of joints and small bones in his wrist and knuckles. Crack. Crack. Crack. I didn't stop until I felt the structural integrity of his wrist completely give way beneath my knuckles. The joints shifted unnaturally, the bones dislocating completely under the relentless pressure of my fists.

He grabbed the pommel of the saddle to hoist himself up. Kornel’s eyes narrowed. He saw something. A tiny glimmer. A thread. It wasn't a shadow. It was a physical modification. The leather strap that held the saddle cinch... it looked perfect. Too perfect. Kornel’s memory flashed back to the cave five years ago. Untha teaching him how to skin a rabbit. “The trick is to cut the tendon so it snaps only when pulled.” "WAIT!" Kornel roared. He lunged forward. He shoved Oreon hard.

They exclaimed. Herman shoots 10 nails and those ten fly fast that pierce 5 rows of them. The thin mustache puts his palm to Kartika’s back and in his flamboyant accent, he said. “Excuse me, my lady.” His blue Iru shines Cakra. “Teknik Gabungan: Mjolnir! (Combo Technique: Mjolnir! Seriously, should I really translate it?)” They exclaimed. Cakra smacks them consecutively and brutally at a high speed.

He cracked his thick, bone-plated knuckles and a savage grin pulled across his face. "Alright then, come on ," Dante snarled.

He said. Wilson instantly walked forward and picked a matte black gauntlet with short sharp spikes at the knuckles. It reached his elbows and had sharp teeth-like edges pointing outwards. It looked very dangerous and totally badass. "Oh? That's a very good pick, kid. I must have you know that that is one of my favorites. The right hand has a special fire ability and the left has poison ability. As long as you have qi, you can recharge it and use at will."

In fact, in his jacket pocket, Lucas was clenching his fists so tightly, his knuckles turned white and his fingernails dug into the flesh of his palms. ***

The knob felt cold under my palm, and as I turned it, his words rang out loud and clear. "For someone who didn't want to hurt me, you sure put a lot of force behind it when you drove the fucking knife into me."

My head rings, and my vision blurs from the strike. My ears ring as I fumble on the ground. What the hell? His hits are hard, too hard. I look at his gloves and notice the tape around his knuckles outlining more than knuckles. Faint gold shining through split tape I realize why he's hitting with such force. He has fucking brass knuckles on! "Hey!" I yell at the guy standing outside the ring, trying to inform him of the knuckles. I run to the other side of the ring, wiping and smearing blood from my eye from my face.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> But Khyle blinked twice when he noticed the bluenet's hands. They were covered by a pair of thin black fingerless gloves with what appeared to be fine white bones running down the back. They were outlandish, much like that shirt he'd worn their first time out, but fitting. He could almost imagine those hands crushing through the very bones they displayed. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">