Bucky Barnes Knives Novels & Stories

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

again. I slam the suitcase shut and head for the door, when I remember my most important possession: my knife, who I affectionately call Borden. It was the knife I used to kill my first thirteen victims before T.H.E.M. recruited me—and several of the plush stuffies after said recruitment—and is without a doubt the closest thing I have to any sort of sentimental attachment. I return to my bed and reach under the mattress to my trusted knife’s hiding place.

Playing with the tips of the knives when he was finished cleaning each one. "This," he started holding up the first knife Colby had seen him clean, "is very special. The blade slices through the skulls of animals easily. It would be as easy as cutting…" He trailed off for a moment and Colby figured he was trying to find the human word for it so he would understand. "Butter," he finally sated, "if it were to cut you." The piercing look in Cobra’s eyes as he informed Colby of that disturbing information was enough to make the young male shit his pants. As a precautionary measure, to make sure such a thing would not happen, Colby tightened up his sphincter.

The room was filled with different sorts of ammunitions, even the ones Suzanne was beholding for the first time. A glass-fronted cabinet showcased rows upon rows of ammunition, neatly organized by caliber and type. Brass cartridges shimmered like gold coins, stacked with clinical efficiency. Beside them, boxes of shotgun shells, an opened box filled with fat bullets and a bag of headgears lined meticulously. Suzanne took in every detail in the room with a look of horror sitting boldly on her face. At the right side, display cases held an array of hunting knives. Some were Bowie knives, the size of small swords, others were smaller, more tactical blades with serrated edges and textured grips.

A set of six hunting knives. “They’re freshly stoned,” The Blacksmith informed her. The redheaded huntress signaled Griffin to bring the money back before saying, “The same price, I assume.” “The same price,” He affirmed with a nod. “You know, my other clients prefer a long-range weapon: bow and arrow, guns, stuff like that.” Griffin placed the money bags on the crates and unzipped it. Two armed men closed the briefcase before they made the exchange with the pawn shop’s owner.

We hurried down the stairs and head for the armory. I remove two Glocks and hand one to Abby now that I’m confident she can handle it with the best of them. I moved over to the automatic rifles. I take one down and snap on the magazine. Making sure the safety’s on, I loop the strap over my shoulder. To be on the safe side, I also take down two Buck 119 knives in their holsters. If anyone comes near me and Abby, they’re going to be in for one hell of a surprise.

a trader he worked in an abbatore and sell meat to meat lovers, he was the biggest boy in the trade, he was popular for the business and many were his customers, few days after he returned from the party, people had he was back at business and had came to patronise him, he had many staffs that worked with him and had a big knife he used in making deferent sizes of meats, so that people can purchase according to their financial strength, by one morning he could not locate where his favorite knife was and had searched everywhere for it but could not see it, and when the cue was getting longer he asked his workers to get him any sharp knife that he may help with the cutting, his boy brought a

The planner made sure to have all my weapons in the hotel before I arrived to throw off any suspicion, and right now, I feel so grateful to him for handling my babies so well. After taking one last look at my Heckler & Koch VP9, MP5DS, and Mk23, my gaze settled on my Fairbairn-sykes Fighting Knife, Sog SOG FIXED Blade, and United Cutlery Push Dagger. Then I headed into the bathroom and got naked before entering the shower. I always like to feel clean before doing a dirty job, and tonight was going to be one of those missions where I have to do more than shooting a bullet into a man's head, so I want to look my best.

“I’d taken a liking to motorcycles and--- well, the rest you know.” I couldn’t contain a smile. Yeah, I still remembered when Bunny – the human-calculator – came to the metal shop for the very first time. He’d been saving up for a bike and was finally buying one. But since the guy didn’t know a wrench from a screwdriver, Knives had taken pity on him and had more or less taken him under his wing. They became fast friends and soon enough he’d been introduced as a prospect of the Wolf Riders MC. And we’d barely blinked before he had his own cut and a new name…

Leon didn't know what was the reason for Bevis to remain silent, was he too distressed to open his mouth, or was Bevis stubbornly unwilling to answer? Leon didn't want to wait long, he looked at Finn and said. "Finn, did you bring a knife?" "What knife? Of course, yes, I carry it with me every day. Leon, what do you want to do?" Finn answered Leon while taking out a sharp knife hidden behind his back. Finn has a lot of weapons on him, he can carry guns and can carry knives. Even the baseball bat is something that is always in the trunk of Finn's car. The light shone on the knife causing it to shine. Finn's scary face is imprinted on the knife. The space became quieter. Everyone held their br