Stabbed In The Back Quotes Novels & Stories

I didn't want any more trouble, my desire to hit him was gone. After having an hour, I got tired and headed home, the next day I had to go to school. I had been walking for about three minutes when I heard some footsteps behind me. I tried to turn around quickly, but I couldn't and I didn't see who it was when I felt a strong pain in my lower part of my back. At that moment I knew I had been stabbed. I fell to the ground and was just bleeding non-stop. The person who had done this ran so fast that in seconds their footsteps were no longer audible.

I could see the regret buried under that blank expression he always wore like a shield. But it was too late. I didn't care about his excuses anymore. I smacked his hand away, then shoved him again. Harder this time. My hand fisted his shirt and I slammed him back into the wall, the sound echoing off the tiles. “You don’t get to do this,” I seethed. “You don’t get to act like the victim when you’re the one who stabbed me in the back.” He stared at me, wide-eyed. I let go of him, my chest still heaving.

Please goddess, don’t let me pass out before he was finished, or I will have a lot of explaining to do. WHIP! Please goddess don’t let me bleed through my shirt or I will also have to explain why only 20 lashes made my back bleed so fast. WHIP! The second I finished with my last prayer, I felt something trickle down my back. WHIP! Please goddess let it be sweat and not blood. WHIP! Please goddess do not make the alpha ask me to lift up my shirt to see the damage he did to my back. WHIP! If he asks me to do that, he will make me tell him how I got those cuts on my back.

A crowd has gathered as four cars, the hard-living, drags out the other Americans stripped naked. Kurt has been stabbed multiple times and stripped down naked; they scar the letters HL on his back. “Keep the door locked,” Tiffany runs to her room, taking out her 9mm Glock, “You are not going alone,” “open this door.” Says the thug holding a glass petro, with a cloth in and gas. “What are you waiting for? Burn the house down; today, we spill blood.” Joshua hoped he had left that life behind, but there was too much evil in this world.

The cold iron bars pressed painfully against my back, but even worse was the rough stone beneath me, hard, damp, and cutting into my skin. Every breath was a struggle, each inhalation sharp and shallow. My back was torn open, the lashes had gouged so deeply into my flesh that blood now ran down in sticky streaks. The silver spikes had burned me, delayed my healing, and left me as vulnerable as a mortal can be.

Just when I was finally feeling better again, I felt a sharp pain at my back. I gasped in pain which made Dylan withdraw from me and scan me from head to toe "Oh, you're bleeding." He said with his eyes wide open. From behind me, I heard Ava's evil laughter and I knew she was the cause. "What did you do?" He barked at her. Giggling like a crazy person, she said."I think I stabbed her at her back... I guess that makes me a... backstabber." She continued giggling louder and louder.

I’d rather die than go back to that shit hole. A black SUV was waiting for us in the curve, one man in a suit slid out of the passenger side and opened the backseat. When we stood at the door, I spit on the man holding the door, head butter the man in my left, and stabbed the man in my right with my killer heels in his throat, just enough to choke him.

“Help me.* She whispered and my heart broke when I noticed there was an open wound at her back. Titan has stabbed her. “Noooo…”

"If this is a mistake, I'll deal with the consequences." Gabriel hesitated only a second before pulling the keys from his belt. The lock clicked open. Leon stepped out slowly. No one lowered their weapons. "I understand if you don't trust me," he said quietly. "I don't," Marcus replied. Leon nodded. "I wouldn't either." Outside... The Silver Moon compound had become a battlefield. Buildings burned. Warriors clashed beneath the full moon. Smoke curled into the night sky, carrying the scent of blood and burning timber. Beauty froze.

Cold metal pressing against my back. Shit. I twisted, barely dodging a lethal knife strike from behind. The blade still slashed across my back, the pain sharp and hot as blood trickled down. I staggered but kept my grip on the bat. The man who stabbed me—wild-eyed, blood-streaked—grinned, ready to strike again. Then, a booming voice cut through the chaos. "FUCK THIS! OUT OF THE WAY!" The biggest guy in Pete's crew grabbed a propane tank lying nearby and hurled it with everything he had.