Blades Urban Dictionary Novels & Stories

A shadow on my left moves quick, the light not brightening his skin until he snatches Blade's malicious pointer. Blade shrieks as Seth bends his finger back and shoves him off his feet. I grab Seth by the elbow and clench his arm to my body. Fury wafts off him in waves, making my flesh buzz. Groaning, Blade picks himself off the ground and grass stains have ruined his shirt beyond repair. Swiping a hand over his face, Blade grumbles, cursing under his breath as he scoops up his bottle and storms out of the yard and into the street, leaving his blazer by the stairs.

"Let's see if you can escape from me," Brett asked while looking around him. There are eight small blades in his hands. He considers these as his new favorite toys since he bought them from an auction in New York. The eight blades are made from high qualiy stone and they are worth million dollars. Brett only brought these treasures because he wanted to show these off to Adam and Chandler later. But it seems he'll use them as his weapon this time.

The thoughts… they rumble in my head that there is nothing clear I can open up. “Adira…” I twitched at the soft melodious voice that suddenly rang out in the air. My gaze then starts to meander from side to side in search of whom did that come from. “Come out who you are.” “Adira… you are the blade.” “Who are you?”

What kind of rotating blade could be so powerful? Kiran was skeptical. Yet, all these masters had died. Could it be... Clang, clang, clang! In the moment Kiran was deep in thought, the three flying blades had already emitted crisp sounds. Kiran snapped back to reality, looking directly at Lord Red Cloud, "They should be called 'Splintering Spinning Blades,' not just spinning blades." What? Lord Red Cloud was taken aback, clearly not expecting this. Kiran raised his left hand, and a forceful strike hit all three blades precisely.

I couldn't believe it. Not even for a second. I couldn't fathom the thought of me liking Blade. All because of a stupid compliment. How stupid could I be to fall for something uttered from the lips of Blade Collins? The moron who doesn't love anything but himself. Self centred and arrogant to the farthest part of space and even then you'd have to go farther to match his arrogance. It's a modern-day miracle his head hadn't exploded yet from his oversized ego. The minute those words left his lying lips and my emotions betrayed me like a little bitch, the jerk seized the opportunity and stole my last Brownie.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even realize that they had both entered the room. Justin closed the door and that's when I realized he was shirtless and didn't even have a gash. "What happened to your stab wound?" I croaked out. He laughed bitterly as he looked down at me. "Babygirl I've been shot and stabbed with real knifes multiple times. A piece of glass can't hurt me." He explained as he looked down at my body as if it were a piece of meat. "But you were bleeding you should at least have a scar." I said in confusion.

It felt like a blade,dangerous, yes, but mine to wield. But even as I stared at it, I felt the whisper stir again, softer than breath, slick as oil. Every blade cuts both ways, Amara.

the Judge offered. "Black Blade, born Quispe Jolls, got his handle from that moon-shaped mark on his ear. "He was one of the original Five Blades of the Shadow Sect, top dog of the East District—my current gig. "There was a saying back in the day that went, 'You'd rather cross Hades than tangle with Black Blade.'" "Oh?" Yoel raised an eyebrow in surprise. "If he's such a big shot, how'd he end up on the Shadow Sect's most-wanted list?"

He breathes out. "Who is Blade?" I ask, turning to face them while trying to mask the frightened look on my face. "We heard he's in the mafia or something. He's from the neighbouring town." Tasha explains to me, her gaze flickering towards them for some seconds. "He's a fucking psychopath." "We need to leave." She says again, rushing to finish her ice cream and I look down at mine, suddenly losing my appetite. Jackson nods, "What the fuck is he doing with them?" He asks as we walk out.

The blade itself was crafted from what looked like obsidian, a material that seemed to absorb the light around it. As I stared at the weapon, I couldn't help but marvel at its artistry. The blade was adorned with symbols that I didn't recognize, a language of magic that spoke to something primal deep within me. The hilt, too, was a thing of wonder, decorated with delicate carvings of wolves that snarled and bared their teeth with a savage grace.