Will Rick Lose His Hand Novels & Stories

Rick waited until everybody was inside the aircraft, both wounded and not, then he spoke to them. "Now listen up everyone", Rick got the attention of all the people around. It was time to make them forget that Clair was shot and that she died. He didn't want people raising brows when they see a girl that is supposed to be dead, walking around alive and healthy. It would draw attention to him that he didn't need at all. He was about to perform a similar magic to the one he did with Stanley. Though he hated the dark energy swirling within him, it was the only way. Performing on this amount of people could drain him but he had no other choice. He swallowed hard pulled in to their minds by stret

Rick laughed with a sinister smile that sent shivers down everyone’s spine. Lily was shocked. “So, you’re dismissing it? Is this just a scam?!” She wanted to shake him off but soon realized his technique was unique. Rick did not use much force, but Lily could not break free because of his special stance. Although Lily’s arm did not hurt, she still could not shake him. Considering his skills, Lily might have to fight for an hour to beat him. Of course, that was if she was her former self. Lily could not beat him with her current stature. Up until this point, she realized she had underestimated the enemy.

He took deep breaths and rubbed his blurry eyes, his extraordinary vision was hazy due to Rick’s blackout. Right after the first bottle, Rick hid himself in the darkness, ignoring Eric’s wretchedness. Having no support from his feral side resulted in an emotional breakdown, he tried to shift his weight on his hands and get up, but his wobbly arms failed to do so. Lying on the stomach, Eric banged his fist on the dirty floor, “Why?”

He held my hand. “I don’t want any more fighting and lives getting lost,” I gently shoved his hold on my hand away. “He doesn't stand a chance against me. The only reason he managed to win was that he took us by surprise and…” He was cut mid-sentence by me. “What if he takes you by surprise again? Huh?” I asked Ric and then gestured to him not to talk when he opened his mouth to speak. “Or is this your way of saying you aren’t going to release me?” I added.

He said to Christopher, “This is for ever laying your hand on Michelle.” He severed two fingers, leaving only his thumb. Christopher thrashed around, screaming loudly while staring at the state of his bizarre hand. “Touch her again and you'll lose your sight.” Just then, footsteps could be heard approaching.

"I don't think that's a good idea." “All done, sir." The physician informed, finally let go of Rick's wrist and the young man had his hand to himself again. “This wouldn't take long to heal, right?" Rick questioned the physician. “Not at all. As long as you don't stress the wrist." The physician replied. Rick nodded. But deep down I know he couldn't wait to stress that hand again with training and loads of work once it healed.

He swore under his breath. "Doctor, can her hand recover?" The elderly doctor pushed his glasses up, his face grim. "It's difficult. The nerve damage is severe, and without proper rest… "Even with the best rehabilitation, she'll likely only regain basic grip function. It'll be impossible for her to use a knife or gun like before." I stared down at my ruined hand, emptiness settling in. This hand had been my pride once, and now it was gone. Leo suddenly stood, brushing aside the nurse bandaging him, and strode over to me. He dropped to one knee so his eyes met mine. It was an incredibly submissive position.

"He’s so gentle. I love spending time with him. He makes me feel... human." CRACK. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room. Annabelle jumped, her tea splashing onto the tablecloth. We both looked down. The heavy, rubber spoon Rick had been holding was snapped clean in half, the jagged edges digging into his palm. "Rick! My goodness, are you okay?" my mum reached out, her brow furrowed in genuine concern. Rick didn't look at her. He was staring at me, his knuckles white, his chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon. "I am fine," he rasped, the words sounding like they were being dragged over broken glass. "Just... lost my grip."

I scream, but arms grab me, strong muscular biceps rendering me useless, and a colossal sweaty hand clamps down over my lips. Tears pool in my eyes, but I refuse to release them. Ricky doesn't deserve emotion.

Brandon snorted as he passed me, kicking out, but I jumped up and snarled. “I would watch your self Bran. She is feisty. She already took your fingers. Do you want to lose your fucking foot? Do you know how hard it is, or how long it takes to regrow a fucking foot?” Vince snorted. “It was fucking back in college Rick, get over it.” Rick snarled. “You ripped off my foot for a girl! And you didn’t even get the fucking girl.” Vince snarled and then looked at me. Jesus…you’re right. Holy goddess, he is interested in me. Megan whined, and I laughed. Cause what else were we supposed to do?