Spell Knuckles Novels & Stories

Looking up at Teema, Skul saw Kiri had also changed her own fingernail into her own long white curved claw and had it poised on Teema’s chest, while Horken held her steady. “What the…?” Rex asked, his voice catching in his throat.

Paid without asking me, tucked them under his arm, and walked back to the bike like it was nothing. "You didn't have to do that," I said. "I know," he said, securing them to the bike. I watched his hands while he worked. The knuckles on his right hand were split and bruised, the skin broken in two places, dark underneath. I had noticed it last night but we had been otherwise occupied and I hadn't asked. "Dylan," I said. "Mm." "Your knuckles." He glanced down at his hand. "What about them?"

How do I conceal the wounds on my knuckles? “I'm waiting or else I'll have them bring down this door.” I open the door and resume back to my initial position. “I said I was fine man. You didn't have to come check on me.” “For starters, you don't look fine and secondly, everyone is worried sick about you. They’ve all been calling you but it's been going into voicemail. “I turned it off.” “You don't look good at all.” “I'm not.” “Jeez, your knuckles are all damaged!” Tony scolds

“Are these real?” Elaina studied the two long swords Chase held carefully before her. The blades were clear and a little scraped up, the handles black with places around the end to slip her hands through. Above the holes were brass knuckles, that way if anyone ever got too close she had something to defend herself with. “The brass knuckles detach.” Elaina said simply scooting over so that Charise could sit beside her. “Honestly, I forgot those were even in there. It was the last thing my father gave me before he died.”

he exhaled and cracked his knuckles. Watching him more relaxed, I dared to ask, “What are these marks from? Every time I wake up, I notice my hands and ankles are purple bruised as if they were bound or restrained. Are you into fetich game you haven't told me about? I don’t mind if you have a kink, but I’d prefer if you confided in me.”

I question, upon standing up to help him in the tub when Osric helps him remove his boxers. “My joints are starting to hurt,” Jonathan grunts when he nearly trips over his boxers falling into Osric who holds him tight. “You don’t think?” Osric looks at me then Jonathan whose nails extend into what appear to be claws like mine or Osric’s. “How?” I question while reaching out and grab Jonathan’s hand inspecting his nails as he watches with a very confused expression. Typically, when he fights and uses his abilities his nails come to sharp points and his fangs come out, but the nails remain human looking just extremely sharp.

Nora P.O.V My gaze landed on the table of weapons again. I needed to choose carefully for this round. The knife had served me well, but against their best, I would need something faster, something that would give me an edge. My fingers hovered over a pair of brass knuckles before I picked them up, the cold metal biting into my skin. This would work for me.As I strapped the knuckles onto my hands, I watched as the others armed themselves. Some chose heavier weapons but I knew that strength alone would not get me through this.

And, just as before, Ryu nodded, insisting on being honest. "I... I slapped her," Endo stammered in fear. "Knuckle." Kenji extended his hand, and one of the men stepped forward, producing a brass knuckle from his jacket. It was a weapon worn on the hand, made of iron, about a handspan long, with four holes for the fingers. Kenji slid the weapon onto his right hand, ensuring that all four fingers, except for the thumb, fit into the holes, and tightly clenched his fist.

She deserved another raise. "Okay, let's see this baby," he said as he reached for the envelope opener in his drawer and cut through the box. He pulled out the brass knuckles and held them up, fascinated by how they glowed a rich bronze colour under the downlights. They were cold and heavy in his hands when he slipped them on. Not at all what he'd expected. But then again, what the hell did he expect from a weapon so barbaric? He flexed his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists as he repeated the motions a few times until he was used to the brass knuckles and felt confident enough he could punch someone without hurting himself in the process.