Strike 1 Novels & Stories

Sienna Williams woke up the next morning with a sense of purpose burning brightly within her. The heated conversation with Aaron and Damien still echoed in her mind, but instead of dampening her spirits, it fueled her resolve. She was done playing nice. It was time to push forward with her plans for revenge. Today was important. Today was the day she would push forward with her plans for revenge. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. 6:30 AM. Early, but she felt ready to take on the world. Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching out the tension from last night’s events.

Is there somebody help me stop this maniac? "Sir!" A man's hurried voice came from the side. "You have an urgent call!" "I said don't disturb me!" While the man turned his head, I raised the thigh to the man's lower body to kick him. I feel like my knee is touching a hard rock. Then I heard curses. I ran away and saw Radleigh walking away with my sister in his arm towards the door of the bar. I'm going after them! But when I ran outside the bar, I couldn't find them. They are was out of my sight. Damn it. I need to find and confront them.

“Mmm.” Victoria shook her head while rolling her eyes. She watched the guys play baseball along side her friend. Zaine took the bat from his friend, tapped it against his foot. He made a big show of saying he was going to get a homerun. He pointed the bat in the air and then took a few practice swings. The pitcher threw the first ball, it was a fast ball. Zaine swung and missed the ball.

Last Frame: It all boils down to this. I need a strike to shut her out. The ball feels heavy, grounded in my hand. I can feel the weight of her gaze on my back as I step onto the approach. I take my time, find my mark, breathe out the last of the day’s stress, and let it fly. Strike. The pins explode in a satisfying, chaotic clatter. I throw my arms up, turning to her with a grin that feels like it belongs to a much younger, happier version of myself. “Game over. Associate Knight takes the title.”

Tension coiled tightly, thick enough to feel. --- The First Strike Kael moved first. No warning. No hesitation. Steel clashed against steel with a sharp, violent sound that shattered the silence. Aeron blocked easily—but the force behind Kael’s strike pushed him back half a step. Sparks flickered between them. For a split second, their faces were illuminated— Anger. Frustration. Something deeper. Kael pressed forward immediately, not giving Aeron time to recover. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, voice low but edged.

The quiet of the house was shattered by the sudden ring of Jordan’s encrypted phone. Grace jumped, startled, but Jordan’s expression didn’t waver. His eyes darkened, muscles tensing as he snatched the device. “Got it,” he muttered, swiping the screen. Grace leaned closer. “Who is it?” Jordan’s jaw tightened. “Someone who doesn’t wait.” His voice carried a cold edge she hadn’t heard in months. “The first strike.” Before she could ask more, the lights flickered, then went out entirely, plunging the room into shadow.

The room went dead silent. “No…” someone whispered behind me. I didn’t speak. Couldn’t Because I was watching it happen. The moment. Clark moved with precision. No hesitation. No wasted motion. Gibbs turned— Too late. The strike was clean. Efficient. Final. Gibbs dropped. Just like that. Gone. The video looped. Again. And again. And again. “Stop it.” My voice came out low. Too low. Nobody moved. “I said—STOP IT!”

Vivian hesitated, but finally stood beside them. The first strike had to be coordinated. They couldn’t afford mistakes. Damien’s shadow fell across the window. The moonlight caught the glint of his eyes. Sierra signaled. “Now!” Lila swung the metal pipe with all her strength, hitting the window’s frame. The crash startled Damien, though he didn’t flinch. The glass shivered but didn’t break completely. Sierra grabbed a chair and hurled it toward the cabin door, slamming it into the lock. The impact rattled the wood, giving them a small surge of advantage.

Chris exclaimed. “Hey, you gotta do whatever it takes to beat someone with a reputation like yours,” Heather said. “Shut up and let me read out the rules!” Francis yelled, walking to the edge of the arena in the middle of Chris and Heather. “This is a first strike match. If your opponent’s sword hits you, you are out. If your opponent is disabled, to prevent injury, you may end the match with a stop short. One more thing, no stabbing. Anything else is fair game.”

Then, he moved. The first strike ripped across my back. The sound was a loud, wet thwack. The pain was immediate and absolute, tearing through skin and muscle. I bit down hard, refusing to scream. My breath hitched, a strangled, animal sound of agony. I felt the line of warmth spread instantly across my shoulder blades. One.