Bucky Barnes Knives Novels & Stories

Hooks hung bare beneath shelf labels while nervous customers compared propane tanks and lanterns nearby. A man loaded six portable stoves into his cart while pretending not to notice the angry looks around him. This was accelerating fast. Her gaze landed on the final hunting knife resting beneath the fluorescent light. Evelyn crouched slightly and reached for it. Another hand reached the display at the same time. Large. Scarred. Steady. She looked up instantly. The man withdrew his hand first. “Take it.” His voice sat low and rough between them. Not aggressive. Not friendly.

"Euny, these knives are a bit concerning because they are all made of Damascus steel. Don't get me wrong I appreciate the craftsmanship but the room for upgrades is severely limited and these blades would easily be sliced by the high-grade weapons used by those *ss-h*t nobles." "I'm sorry Kent, but this is all I can afford. I have been saving my reward points for months to get a new knife. I can't exactly afford a High-grade knife blade with my family's current situation." Kent was taken back "I'm sorry Euny, I overstepped my boundaries. But Euny I wanted to give you this as a token of my appreciation for everything that you did for me." He took a small rectangular-shaped box out of his coat

Infront of me , on my lap , five throwing knives lay on the rough material being held in place by little rubber bands attached to the fabric . My eyes lit up when I seen the colour . They were turquoise. A big smile instantly appeared on my face as I admired the knives , that each one , slowly got smaller as my eyes ran across them . I touched the edge of the knife , getting a little paper cut . The knives were really sharp , and I could see symbol on the knives . It was an Ace symbol . It was small and simplistic but I really liked it.

"Boss...please... I didn't know. Please...don't...kill me." "Kill you? I won't. Why would you think that?" Murmuring gently in response, fleshy lips flattened in thoughts. The tzar's casual steps brought him to a secure panel. He punched in a series of codes, it beeped and slowly opened to reveal trays of weapons, displayed for Dominic's personal use. Perfect. It had been a while but he had not forgotten. All types of specially made knives were displayed and arranged perfectly before him, from fixation Bowies, authentic katanas, bolos, Gerber, and...

Bianca stood by the knife display case, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves as she flexed her fingers. "These smell like mildew," Bianca complained, wrinkling her nose. "But they’ll do." She looked at me, for once, she didn’t critique my appearance. She simply handed me a knife. "Here," Bianca said. "It’s nasty just like you." I accepted the knife and sheathed it on my belt. "Thanks, B." Dante waited by the door, having restocked on ammunition from the shelves behind the counter—9mm rounds, shotgun shells, flashbangs.

With a resounding response, they brandished their weapons and charged forward. This time was different from the usual minor scuffles. They carried knives in their hands, and the blades gleamed with a cold light. It was evident that this wasn't a mere joke. Such knives would definitely be considered restricted weapons within their country. Hannah's gaze darkened. She couldn't help but be grateful that she wore sneakers to the beach barbecue with Darren due to convenience. These men were different from the small-time thugs she could easily handle. They had seen blood and had formidable skills.

Too small. I look at the other weapons, well, more like knives. We have kitchen knife, cleaver knife, carving knife, santoku knife, paring knife, then tomato knife, then a fork. not your normal fancy fork, No, a two way fork. Lastly, my personal favourite, chain saw machine, all coated with silver, than touched with silver sulfide.

"What do you need?" Darian was silent for a long moment. Then he said, "I need to know that you're not going to abandon us. That when the fighting starts, you'll be there. That you won't let them burn everything we've built." Kael held his gaze. "I won't." "How can I be sure?" Kael reached into his cloak and pulled out a small blade. It was simple, unadorned. But it carried meaning. "This blade was given to me by someone who trusted me. It's not a weapon. It's a promise." He held it out. "Take it. As a symbol of my word."

When I told him I was, he made calls. Don't ask me how he found a two handed Claymore almost exactly like the one I had at home, or the shield, but he did. Instead of the traditional dagger, I went with two British fighting knives, something I was comfortable with. We also went to a theatrical supply store, for something very specific. The Colonel was impressed, grinning. "Don't even think about leaving me behind. I wouldn't miss this for the world."