Bloodthirsty Blade Novels & Stories

I said, jabbing my blade into his abdominals. Muscle and ligaments tore. Ribs cracked as I carved into him. Precise, quick, deep cuts. The blade was hand crafted to suit my purposes. Just in case my past came knocking. He was so caught off guard by my revelation he couldn't rally in time to stop me ripping into him. Muscle memory took over. Ghost Blade went to work. Lance's blood splattered between us. His knife aimed blindly at my body while he choked on the blood pouring out of his mouth. Face marred in pain, but he refused to cry out.

Kharvek seized the moment, lunging forward with a brutal overhead strike. Adrian twisted— Too late. The blade grazed his shoulder. Pain flashed through him as blood spread quickly across the fabric of his shirt. A growl rippled through the room. Vaelreth’s claws tightened against the armrest of his throne. The demon general laughed. “Bleeding already, human?” Adrian ignored him. Instead, he shifted his stance. Calmer now. Focused. Kharvek attacked again. But this time Adrian moved first. He stepped inside the demon’s swing, pivoted sharply—

Shame this was evening happening to me. Unfortunatly, Damon moved to stand beside Ethan. “These are Twisted Blade push daggers. A tri-edge blade that spirals. Also known as a cyclone blade. They insure maximum damage with little effort. When used correctly, it will increase our killing effectiveness by 10%. Your opposite will bleed out before their wolf will be able to heal them.”

I was shuffling closer to Trey when he came sliding over spitting blood to the side. "You can keep her! You wanted her so damn bad then you can take care of that useless bitch!" Trey growled in response and stood up. Seconds later a hand Yanked Brandon out of sight and into the Blizzard, I reached for Trey but as soon as I did, he too was yanked away… "No! Freckles run! Go!!" "Bax! Help me!" Then the Blizzard leveled out all at once, the snow settling in a single wave. Brandon was pinned by one zombie and Trey was currently fending off three. I ran to help Trey.

With intestines dangling and blood dripping, she flew into the darkness. A few blocks away from the building a young gorgeous lady is waiting for her bus ride back home. She sat by the bench underneath a semi-parabolic dome listening to Spotify. Engrossed in what she is doing, the lady is unaware of the creature silently flying above her. Smelling the scent of fresh teenage blood, Sarah ejected her long pointed tongue that punctured the synthetic dome and hit her prey on her nape. She then commenced sucking her blood as the victim struggled to set herself free. This time the girl was ready. With a sharp hunting knife in hand, she slashed at the tongue which caused it to be disengaged from he

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.

I stagger, blood loss making the world spin. Kael’s voice cuts through it—harsh and broken. “DOWN!” I drop without thinking. The Heart lunges past me—straight into Kael’s blade. He drives it up under the monster’s exposed ribcage, both hands braced, the impact shuddering up his arms. The blade punches through muscle and bone—bursting out the thing’s back in a geyser of black blood. The Heart spasms. Screams. Kael rips the blade free in a savage, wrenching twist that tears half the ribcage apart.

I became a blur of white and violet. ​I met the first wave with steel. My obsidian blades, forged in the fires of the Shadow Valley, sliced through vampire flesh like it was water. I ducked a claw swipe, spun, and took the legs off one leech. I vaulted over another, driving my blade down through its collarbone. ​It was a dance. A violent, bloody dance. ​I felt the Blackwood wolves hesitate, then join the fray. I heard Kaelen’s roar as he tore into the enemy. We were fighting on the same side. The irony almost made me laugh.

I'm just about to drive my blade through Jonathon’s heart, finally, after all the blood and games, when movement flashes at the edge of my vision. Instinct takes over. I pivot mid-strike, blade skimming wide as I counter with my elbow, narrowly blocking the oncoming blow. The force behind it stings. He steps out of the shadows, tall, composed, his black hair slicked back like he walked out of an old portrait, but those eyes, those glowing red eyes, scream hunger, control, obsession.

I need it to. With a swift, precise motion, I drive the blade into the young lycan’s throat. The warm blood bursts forth in a pulsing stream, flowing through the grooves carved into the stone of the table. The marks flare with a vibrant red glow, the entire hall illuminated by the macabre light. The ground begins to tremble, a distant whisper—or perhaps a wail—seems to echo from the unseen depths. For a moment, my heart races in anticipation. Have I finally done it? Will the Entity deign to respond?