Novel & Cerita The Unbreakable Walking Stick

Chapter 115 • Jealousy Marya dropped the mirror which she was holding and immediately went to her drawer and brought out her queen stick, which was more like a stick of broom. She hit her right palm on the stick and it turned into a staff. She took the staff and walked outside her chamber. She was burning with both fury and confusion, she didn't know the feeling which was worse than the other. At each step she took she hit her staff loudly on the ground with a lot of vigor and strength, making everyone turn to look at her and anyone walking beside her stood still and allowed her to walk past them with their heads bowed down.

How grateful I am to her, I turned to freshen up when my gaze landed on my Jade walking stick. I picked it up with a weird feeling, I remember when I received this from Father, he threw it at me saying, "You are just useless!!! Quit embarrassing me!". Ever since then I never let the walking stick out of my sight, but now looks like I won't be needing it... Just that for some reason I do not feel like abandoning it. My hands traced the golden carvings on the body with a smile on my face, all my life this is the only gift I have received from Father, how can I bear to path with it?

I hit my walking stick on the ground and two of mybguards by the door walk up to me. I hand my walking stick to one of them, and despite the revolt in my knee, I scoop Sal’s nearly conscious form into my arms. Tonight is going to be… an interesting one.

Due to that, he hobbled around, nearly as good as crippled. Resentment simmered between them: Sean with his grudges, Rowena with her cold shoulder. Nancy confided in me that the pair, though housemates, were at each other's throats daily, stirring up a racket that could wake the dead. The stillborn they brought home did not last long before it decayed, swarming with maggots, filling the house with a stench worse than a sewer. Rowena's grip on sanity started to slip, her days filled with wild outbursts. A video of one such episode, self-recorded, went viral and, bizarrely, turned a profit.

"Losing just a little blood made me cold, dizzy... I thought I was gonna die. Only then did I get it—what I put you through. I stole your blood. I deserve to die..." His voice broke as he wept, like a kid who'd done something unforgivable. "I deserve to die... I deserve to die..." I sighed. "You don't have to die. Just stay out of my life." *** Back home, Vincent insisted on wiring me a ridiculous amount of money. "This is a breakup fee. If you don't take it, that means you don't agree to break up." I took it. Just like that, I was financially free. ***

I would come back to him. Julian rose to his feet, swaying. He stumbled to the corner and wrapped both hands around the heavy steel pipe. He closed his eyes. All he could see was me carrying him through the rain. He clenched his jaw, raised the pipe high above his head, and swung it down with every ounce of strength left in his body -- straight into his own left kneecap. *CRACK.* The sickening, brittle snap of shattering bone echoed through the tiny basement. Blinding pain ripped through his entire body. His kneecap was smashed to pieces. His lower leg twisted at a grotesque, unnatural angle.

Truly talk. "I used to think my dad would only love me if I was on the ice," Adrian said quietly, his gaze fixed on the steam rising from his paper cup. The harsh lighting of the motel softened the sharp angles of his face, making him look younger, more like the college boy Ethan remembered. "I spent my entire childhood skating until my feet bled because I thought that was the only way to keep my family together. When he passed away... I realized I didn't even know who I was without a stick in my hand."

Shuku!.. Shuku!.. A man dressed in a red gown, holding an iron staff decorated with the skull of different dead creatures, including humans and many mysterious medals and trinkets. Clanging as they beat against each other and the rod each time it pierced the red soil to settle on the ground; since the holder was using it as a walking stick. The lanky man who looked emaciated resembled some forbidden evil spirit that had escaped into the mortal world. His nose, sharply pointed, was an oddity among the people of this environment.

The young prince lifted his leg high, mid charge, and brought his leg down in a powerful overhead kick. “3rd strike” *Bang* Breaker was quicker this time and was able to get his hammer above his head. Yet when Abe’s foot came down onto his hammer, Breaker felt a great weight that pushed him deeper into the earth. The ground beneath him cracked open and Breaker found to his chagrin that one of his feet was stuck. There was someone happy with this development though: the young prince of Zandor’s Western Empire. And he wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass him by.

She knelt down and felt my left lower leg, but I had no idea why. “This is my favorite instrument. It’s called a shatter stick. And I’m going to show you why it’s called that.” She exclaimed happily. I braced myself as she pulled back and then hit my lower leg as hard as she could. I shrieked from the agony. She reached down and squeezed the meat and said, “Nope, not broken. I think one more should do it!” She swung back hit the same spot and I could feel the bones snap against the force. She laughed lightly like this was a game.