The Blind Bandit Novels & Stories

The hooves of our horses awaken some of the people of my pack, causing them to peek out their windows and doors to see what the commotion is about. Before long, we reach the courtyard of the palace and begin to dismount. After a quick debriefing, I release the men to go home to get some rest. Turning, I focus on the woman at my side and find myself floored. Her hood has fallen back to reveal raven hair, the light of dawn causes rainbows to shimmer in the long strands. Her beauty takes my breath away, but that isn’t what truly floors me. Her eyes, her eyes are a dull shadow violet. She’s blind.

I stumbled into the pitch-black room, hitting the damp flagstones hard. BOOM! The iron door slammed shut, and the heavy deadbolt clicked into place. Absolute, suffocating darkness engulfed me. The air down here was freezing, smelling of old oak barrels, stale wine, and icy moisture dripping from the ceiling. There was no light, no warmth, and no food. "Stay down there and think about your place, trash!" Helena’s muffled voice echoed through the iron door before her footsteps faded away into nothingness.

“Lay it all out. It’s your last time in the spotlight, so don’t leave any regrets.” I nodded and sank into my seat with my eyes closed. The car drove away from the woodland, bringing warm sunlight. I knew that come next Monday, nothing would ever be the same again.

“Drop the act! I’ll do whatever the hell I want in Jacksboro City! You like to fight, don’t you? Well, I’ve got hundreds of guys who’ll gladly entertain you. “And not just you! Your whole family’s going to pay for this! I’ll bury the men in the mines. As for the women? I’ll sell them off to brothels in the countryside. It’s all because of you, you little bastard! “Hit him!” Gabriel’s words were still echoing when the horde surged forward, weapons raised, their eyes glinting with violence. Thwop! Thwop! Thwop! Suddenly, a deafening roar split the sky.

he yelled louder that I couldn't help but shiver. "She's blind," someone let out in the crowd. I could feel my legs go weak. "Are you blind?" he asked, but I kept mute. "Don't let me repeat myself, are you blind?" he yelled in frustration. "Yes," I said with a teary and shaky voice. "A blind Mate," he yelled out for everyone to hear.

"Bucky!" Adrian shouted, "Leave this to me!" "Think you’re going to get away?" One of the bandits flew toward the carriage. Adrian grabbed his leg and tossed him toward the one-eyed bandit. The one-eyed bandit reached out to catch his comrade, but he underestimated Adrian. He ended up rolling off his horse with his companion. Wincing from the pain, he gritted his teeth and said, "Attack together!" "Stop," Rozi commanded as she opened the carriage curtains. "Stay away from us or you'll face the consequences."

Suddenly, they heard a rustling sound and Damon instinctively pushed Diana behind him. "Stay behind me," he whispered, drawing his sword. They both looked around nervously, trying to locate the source of the sound. Suddenly, a group of men appeared from behind the trees. They were armed and dangerous-looking. "Who are you?" asked Damon, holding his ground. "We're bandits," replied the leader, grinning menacingly. Damon tensed up, ready to fight. "We won't give up without a fight." The bandits laughed at his reply. "Oh, we know that. That's why we brought friends," said the leader, pointing to a group of bandits that had snuck up behind them.

she said quietly. Another silence fell between them. Five years ago, they would always have late-night talks before bed. No matter how tired she was, Jade would make time to bond with the blind Zane. She didn’t want him to feel alone, especially since she spent most of the day working herself to the bone to save for his surgery. One night, he made her promise that she would be there when he regained his sight. She had said yes. But in the end, she broke that promise.

Honestly, between getting caught by him again or being dragged away by these rogue wolves, I’d take the latter. Suddenly, Ryder reached out his hand toward me. "We haven’t introduced ourselves yet. I’m Ryder Black!" I didn’t shake his hand, just stared at it coldly. "Ryder? What are you, a motorcyclist or something? Oh wait, I know—you’re a bandit!"

A painting hangs beside his desk. I don’t know why it draws me in, but I find myself walking closer. Thick strokes of midnight blue and charcoal gray layer the canvas. In the center — barely visible unless you truly look — a thin streak of gold cuts through the darkness. Not bright. Not loud. Just there. A quiet fracture of light. It isn’t something you glance at. It’s something you feel. My fingers almost lift to touch the textured paint. Why would a blind man choose something so visual?