Strike 1 Novels & Stories

Kira’s POV My first strike sent Michael flying across the rooftop, his body slamming into the concrete wall with a sickening crack. The force shattered the stone behind him, dust and debris crumbling at his feet. He coughed, blood splattering onto the ground as he struggled to lift himself. I tilted my head, watching him suffer, feeling my power crackle at my fingertips. It was hungry. I was hungry.

A line of fire bloomed on his skin. “You will count,” Zeke commanded, his voice cold. “Every single strike. Loudly.” “One,” Eli choked out. CRACK. The second strike landed higher, just under the curve of his right ass cheek. The sting was sharper, more focused. “Two.” CRACK. The left cheek. “Three.”

If not strong enough Heartstrike Resonance (LEGENDARY) A technique that channels conviction into empathy. Strikes bypass defenses when the heart’s rhythm aligns. Heartbeat Synchrony (Passive) Your emotional rhythm aligns with those around you. Allies near you feel steadier, braver. But beware when their hearts falter, yours trembles too. Love at First Fight (Passive) The first opponent you strike feels a flicker of emotion toward you. Confusion, curiosity… or something dangerously close to affection. Duration: 3 seconds (Works on any gender).

"Now you all should be on your knees" "Yes ma'am" they chorused as they all knelt down. "Noe Irene please make this look like you just took advantage of your enemy's weakness, hold out his left hand, take a deep breath and loosen yourself moving all your strength to these two fingers, you have three strikes, one on his forehead, his shoulders and his neck which would decapitate your opponent to a point where he's subconscious or rather unconscious. Watch this" Emily uttered as she made the three strikes so fast that it was hard to dictate where she had her first strike, staring at the maid as she fell to the ground. She was decapitated as Emily said earlier, this was thrilling and very excit

After being fooled by him for so long, I finally got to trick him back right to his face once. "Terence, are you satisfied with the 50th revenge?" The wind swallowed most of my voice, but I knew he heard me. He stood frozen in place. As he stood there, stunned, a powerful blast ripped through the air. Flames erupted skyward, lighting up everything around. "Goodbye, Terence."

After she said so, she reached for my arm and smacked my palm against her face. Surprised by this sudden turn of events, I couldn't stop myself from leaving a heavy imprint of a palm on her face. Almost instantaneously, Zephyr pushed me heavily down the stairs, and I rolled all the way to the ground like a ball. My entire body hurt so much that I couldn't even make a sound, and the cameras of the paparazzi were practically smudged in my face. "You're Theresa? The actress, Theresa Carter?" "Goodness, since when did you become so fat?"

Nothing came out of my mouth when I opened it to speak. “I’m sorry, but I think I know who you are. Isn’t it you who ran-!” That was my signal to go. I sprinted, just like I had done during our initial encounter a few hours previously. And three words were the only thing that was playing in my mind: fuck, I’m doomed.

“Dammit!” Laura said as she spilled her coffee on her light floral blouse. She hadn’t seen the crack in the sidewalk as she was juggling her bag and coffee cup, trying to keep up with the foot traffic. “Just great. I hate Mondays,” she mumbled to herself as people hurried past her on their way to work on this bright, sunny day. She silently scolded herself for trying to cram a last-minute errand in before work. She carried on as she reached into her bag to pull out a napkin. She tried to wipe the coffee off, but only succeeded in rubbing it in further. Not looking up from tending to the stain, she bumped into a man, hard.

A fear I could not handle. As Henry persisted, fueled by both alcohol and misplaced longing. He grabbed my arse. I tried kicking him where the sun doesn't shine but I couldn't as he trapped my legs between his. "Henry… please… stop!" I pleaded, struggling against his insistent hold. Tears were already gathering in my eyes, and my lips were quivering. As Harvey's attempt at a forceful kiss became more intense panic surged within me. Just when it seemed I couldn't escape his grasp, a sudden impact jarred our entangled forms. A powerful force sent Henry stumbling backward, releasing his grip on me.

He squared his stance and offered his back like an answer. The first strike landed like punctuation—measured, not a test but not a claim either. The sound carried to the bar, a crisp thud softened by suede. A second. A third. She found a rhythm, the kind of cadence that pulls breath into sync. Leo’s shoulders loosened, then set, then loosened again. The color of his breath changed.