Deathstroke Sword Arrow Novels & Stories

I caught the glint of that sharp steel arrow slicing through the air, aimed dead center at Kairos's chest. "No!" My scream tore out of me, but it got drowned out by the sickening thud of the arrow hitting home.

Draven stands a few feet away from the car now, his eyes scanning the road and the forest around us. His shoulders tense. I press my palm against the window. “Draven,” I whisper. Something shifts in the trees to the right. Then— A sharp whistle slices through the air. For a split second, my mind doesn’t understand what it is. His head tilts slightly. THUD. The sound is sickening. Draven’s body jerks violently. For a moment my brain refuses to understand what just happened. Then I see it. A silver arrow buried deep in his chest.

It’s a double shot arrow. The sharp head was forged with a death spell and it was laced with poison that could kill hundreds of werewolves with just one drop. Robert Kingston was the one who formulated that and it took him years to finally perfected the formula of a weapon that was so lethal to werewolves. It pierced straight towards Ember’s back. Two arrows but it was enough to kill her. Ember felt her whole world halted as she felt the pain that pierced her back. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe and her whole body became paralyzed.

With all her might she pushed forward and buried the sword deeper into his chest, killing him. Blade blinked at her in shock, as his sword slipped from his hand to fall listlessly to the floor before his whole body joined. She bent to her knees breathing fast and just looked up after few minutes of getting herself to see an arrow flying in her direction.

“You’ve made a mistake.” I pressed my sword to his chest, breath ragged. “No. You made yours when you touched her.” But before I could demand answers, before I could force him to admit what he knew, Kael’s body jerked fiercely. An arrow struck his heart, blood spilling across the snow. His eyes widened, then faded, his smile frozen in death. Elara screamed, covering her mouth, fear written across her face. I spun, searching the shadows. The arrow… it came from nowhere. Silent, accurate.

She asked and he moved forward opening the lid of the poison ready to turn it into Ferguson's throat. "Watch" He said but he turned around stretching out his sword to cut something, the swooshing sound of two different object cutting through the air reached the Werewolf ears but the opposing object stabbed his arm and the glass jar fell to the ground breaking to skewers and the black fermented liquid spilled on the ground. Declan groaned and staggered back holding his sword with the same arm an arrow just flew to with his life. He couldn't let the sword drop not in front of his people, it would be a huge disgrace and a sign of weakness.

“Satisfied? This what you waited so long for.” “Fighting fire with fire. Darkness with a more sinister darkness.” Theoden held up the sword, admiring how it shimmered. “Those bafoons never knew how to respect such magnificent artefacts... I call her Ashmere, the lake of past pain. This one, like her siblings before it, purged Slora with what is now known as the deadly plague.” “It is not just a plague…is it?” Arlen picked up a random crossbow on the ground. It instantly filling up with red arrows.

One of the students stood up and reached for his blade's sheath when an arrow struck him in the forehead. Killing him instantly. “!!”

But when Morning screamed, he turned the arrow towards her. I immediately pulled out my pistol and shot him straight in the head. He died immediately, and his arrow went wide. Then I felt the sword cut across my back.

His face twists in pain, as if it was he who had a sword buried in his chest. A fresh burst of pain explodes beneath my breast; something hits me. I stumble backwards on my feet, look down, and the sword hilt is gone, replaced with a crimson-feathered shaft. An arrow, shot clean through my heart. Blood soaks into fine golden fabric, under the cover of a dark green traveling cloak.