The Hitting Zone Novels & Stories

"I hate you." "I don't care." He pulls me up by my arm and drags me. "Let's go." I struggle from his hold. I can't go with strangers. I've got a life. A life to take care of. A life to build and concentrate on after this messed up relationship with Collins. Not one problem to the other. My heart beat quickens. Frightened, frustrated, uneasy, unrelaxed, list it all. With all these feelings working at the same time, I bite his hand and quickly grab the flower vase nearby and hit his head.

Then, before I could stop myself— “Is there a possibility that someone hits you so hard that you find it…”I paused. “Hot? Zane stared at me. “What?” “Not hot,” I corrected quickly. “Like… you like it? And want to be hit again?” Zane looked horrified. “That person would be sick.” He folded his arms immediately. “Mentally sick. Only psychos enjoy getting hit. What happened?” I went silent. What the— sick? Well, undeniably I was sick.

His anger crossed all the limits. "HOW DARE YOU SLAP HER" He hits the stick on that goon's head who slapped Zoya. The goon knelt holding his head in pain. Sahir kept punching him till his face started bleeding. The other goons tried to get up and walked towards Sahir. but Sahir seemed unstoppable. The street lights started flickering. The wind started flowing.

J cast a spell. "Death zone- Cellious Vizar" instantly a thin red layer visible contrast of light wrapped the enemies and them in a ten meter circumference. Nathaniel smirked seeing their enemies reactions. Gauging by it, they knew too well what kind of barrier E.J did. Simple yet deadly.

It cuts through the chaos in my mind and gives me something concrete to focus on. “That's enough defensive work,” Zane decides. “Let's switch to offense. Show me what you remember about targeting vulnerable areas.” Offense. Yes. That's what I need right now. Not defense, not evasion. I need to hit something. I need to hurt something the way I'm hurting. Zane moves to the heavy bag hanging in the corner. “Pretend this is an opponent. Show me combinations targeting the throat, solar plexus, knees.” But I don't see a training bag. I see amber eyes filled with hatred. I see a cruel smile promising destruction. I see a ring stained with blood.

Every mirror’s attack became an opportunity to reinforce coordination and rhythm rather than succumb to instinct. Vera’s light carved precise channels through the mirrored illusions, allowing us to see paths clearly and avoid overreaction. Stepbrother’s overlays mapped each reflection’s trajectory, helping us anticipate movement without panicking. By the time Zone One’s figure was safely across the pit, Zone Two’s echoes had diminished, fading under the force of combined, controlled intervention. --- Zone Three remained, perhaps the most subtle and insidious challenge. Tiles shifted beneath our weight, collapsing if we applied too much force or reacted too quickly. Every step required calcul

Massimo continued, speaking into his microphone, "safety is our number one priority. To that end, we have separated the hunting grounds into colored trails so that less experienced hunters won't end up in serious danger. At the top level, we have the red zone, followed by the yellow zone, followed by the green zone—the lowest zone, white, is at the edge of the estate, where competitors will not be shooting at live targets but rather test their skills at our shooting range later today." "This goes without saying, but stick to the zone corresponding to your entry and experience level." Massimo allowed himself a small smile. "Let's all do our best during these next few days, and may the best of

She stood up straight, tears brimming, “Where… where is Hayley?” XXX Hailstorm’s POV I saw Kira disappearing through the trees, trying to catch up but instead, was pulled back. Falling onto the ground, landing on my side with a very hard thud, the wind was knocked out of me. I tried to get back up, not daring to look back but something forced me to.

The game held amazingly. This time both used the right amount of forces. Although Ahaz knows when to use the amount of power he does, Daisy just needed to learn this. And Daisy used her power in the right way. She did not hit the ball too hard and it was important to take care that no one should be hurt by her hitting, which would have been inevitable if she had not played carefully. Ahaz, who knows all this in advance, was handling everything well. He played very carefully today.

His hawk tattoo glistened with the trails of sweat running down his tanned chest, its inked talons raking his shuddering stomach as a feathered wing arched itself over his right shoulder. I flinched as the stick Big Jim held whistled downwards, landing in the space between Aaron's collar bone and neck. My stomach rose to my throat at the sound of the landing thwack. Aaron grunted and faltered back, giving himself a moment to shake the hit off before he took a calculated lunge forward, knocking Big Jim flat on his back. The bigger man's wrist thick rod spilled from his sweaty grip and rolled outside the four markers. Aaron leapt off to the side and crouched behind his opponent, oblivious of t