Black Butler Dagger Novels & Stories

No other way. "Good luck to you." He tilts his head. "You'll need it." "Hey!" I call after him, but he's already gone. I open the package he gave me and inside is a small dagger made of black stone. There's a rough shape carved onto its handle, but I can't make out what it is. So he gave me a blunt dagger with a nonsense symbol. This thing is supposed to make a difference between life and death? Yeah, right. I can't even stab butter with this hunk of rock.

I yell. He dodges my attack easily. Then, he reaches down his foot and pulls something up out of the ground. When I look down I realize what it is and the realization makes me sick. There in Starkev's hand is a black dagger covered in red runes. A weapon capable of ripping open the deepest fears of any soldier. Vassily had told me about it. The Rain Dagger. If he wants to kill me then he'll be getting close to doing just that.

His presence was enough. Lysander stood behind me, the dark dagger in his hand, its blade pulsing with pale blue light, awake after its long sleep. The dagger had been dark since the mountain, since the first shadow fell, but now it blazed again, as if it knew that this battle was the one it had been waiting for.

I asked back confused but he shot me a dead glare and I quickly stretched my left palm to him. "ouch "I shriek out when he slice my palm unannounced " this dagger is made from the venom of a black mamba and a little amount of dark magic. The wound on your palm has been poisoned and you have till sundown tomorrow to bring the girl to us or you die "he said and my blood went cold. gush now I think coming here was a bad idea, I can't believe I was such a fool to have come report my discovery to the high witch.

A beautiful handcrafted handle, perfectly polished and engraved with the pack's symbol and the family's last name in old English letters. The dagger's blade is made of pure silver. Mixed with white ash from an old ancient tree and dipped in Angel's blood. The perfect combination that will end the life of a primordial vampire. "I'm sure you took my advice and studied your stuff. You can not kill a primordial vampire with an ordinary silver dagger, a regular vampire perhaps...but it will not work on a primordial... just like the wolf bane will not work to kill a Primord wolf." He smiles at Blake and sighs.

There was a clump of hair, long and matted with dark stains, and next to it lay a bloodied dagger. Liam let out a sharp, hissed breath as he leaned in to inspect the weapon, and his eyes widened in recognition. It was a heavy blade with a distinctive ivory hilt, the official weapon of the Blackwood Alphas, and Liam muttered that it was Ronan's dagger. They had both thought he had lost it in the chaotic battle with the rogues back then, but here it was, buried in the middle of nowhere and covered in something that looked like dried gore. At the same time, I felt a knot of nausea tighten in my stomach as I looked at the clump of hair. It looked suspiciously similar to my own, the same shade an

Their last member for their voyage arrives. Butcher turns his head around to see the likes of Xialn. He bears the crest of the panther on his chest as do all of them but his is more worn out and scratched to hell. On his lower back at those sheathed daggers and on his back is a quiver made from animal furs that are thick, thick enough to house bolts. The ends of his ammunition are carved runes that are dull at the moment. Butcher laughs to himself and echoes his voice once he sees him. “How did you ever convince him of this?” Butch turns his head back to the forest, shaking his head as well. “What’s the wrong Butcher? Afraid I’ll kill you?” Xialn’s voice is much more defined, seasoned, and r

A ghost who couldn’t protect what was his, either. “A thug?” I mused, the word a soft, dangerous thing. I reached inside my jacket, and the elders flinched as one, expecting a gun. Instead, I slowly pulled out a small, ornate dagger. The blade was a sinister, oily black. “A thug doesn’t survive twenty-three assassination attempts. A thug doesn’t keep trophies.”

"You don't have to say anything. I know." Taking a deep breath, Lucinda closed her eyes, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. For some minutes, she remained that way, enjoying the calm, the peace, until she opened them again and said, "I'm ready." Then she reached into the pocket of her gown and pulled out a dagger, placing it into Kira's right hand. Kira looked down at the dagger and saw that it wasn't like any normal dagger she had seen. This one's handle was dark, old, and carved with strange markings, and the blade was milky white, almost bone-like, smooth, and slightly curved, the edge looking very sharp.