Deathstroke Sword Arrow Novels & Stories

“She’s inside and there is another man!” “Wait here.” Omar replied, helping the she-wolf to rest against the only wall not covered in blood. Omar moved calmly, pulling a hunting knife from his coat pocket. The way the blade winked wickedly in the pale light sent a chill down Chloe’s spine. She decided there and then she had seen enough of weapons and murder today and turned away from the door, gulping in air. Her throat burned and the bitter taste of bile still haunted Chloe’s mouth. Above her the clouds were breaking and golden sunlight was now filtering through, casting long shadows between the trees. It was too beautiful for the gruesome scene.

Finally, with deliberate slowness, he reached into the inner pocket of his uniform. I watched, every muscle locked in place, as he reached into his coat and slowly withdrew a single object… an arrow. Its shaft was dulled with age, the fletching ragged, and the metal tip stained with a dark residue—nearly black even under the dim lighting. My breath caught in my throat. I recognised that shape. The strange curve of the head, the slight taper—this wasn’t just any projectile. It was designed for wolves. For killing them. My stomach twisted.

The fight was so brutal, and I was so scared that Darcus would end up on the losing end. I wanted to help somehow but I didn't know what to do. I just stayed, and watched the fight. The fight continued for a while, then I caught sight of Killian bringing something out of his pocket. It was a wolfsbane. I screamed at Darcus to move away, but it was too late. Killian was about to place it on Darcus, when an arrow suddenly came from nowhere and went straight into Killian's head. He started bleeding immediately, and fell to the ground. He died immediately.

I’m out in the open and I know I cannot run as fast as them. The closer I get, the better they come into focus, and I stop. Sighing, I tuck the knife back into the holder on my thigh. I am not going to need it. Striding forward, I stop by the side of the pair and lean in, examining them. The pair are dead. And not vampire dead... But dead, dead. A longer than normal arrow pierces through the back of the man, into the chest of the woman and through to the brick wall behind them. The flites have been pulled from the end of the arrow, as if to hide their ownership.

Arrows tipped with jagged obsidian sit in a quiver. Elowen tests the bow’s weight, grinning. “This’ll punch through armor.” Cian nods. “The arrows are dipped in wolfsbane. For disorientation.” ——— We don’t make it a mile before they strike. Six soldiers burst from the trees, blades raised. Rolan meets them first, Nightfang humming as it cleaves through a sword—and the arm holding it. Elowen’s arrow takes another in the throat, the wolfsbane smoking as he chokes.

A heavy glass window high up on the stadium roof shattered into pieces. An instant later, a long, black wooden arrow flew through the dark opening like a streak of lightning. It traveled across the giant room with unnatural speed, making a loud whistling sound that filled my enhanced ears. The black arrow struck the rogue wolf right through the center of his chest. The force of the blow was so massive that it lifted the rogue off his knees, throwing him backward onto the hard ice. He did not even have time to scream. He let out one final, wet gasp, his yellow eyes turning completely blank as the dark poison on the tip of the arrow spread through his veins. He fell completely still, dead righ

My arm felt like it was rotting, the veins pulsing with fire. She tried to hold me up, her small hands pushing against my chest, but I shook her off. “Run.” “No….” “Run, Audrey.” I shoved her back toward them, Caleb and Adrian both catching her at the same time. She looked between us, torn apart, but before she could argue, the first arrow shattered through the broken window. It buried itself in the gym floor, green smoke hissing up from the tip. It was a Wolfsbane. “Down!” Caleb barked, dragging Audrey against him as more arrows whistled through the air.

“So they spilled mine.” I lifted my shirt a little, pressing two fingers against the faint scar that would never fully fade. “Sword went through my stomach. Not just steel—it was dipped in a poison called Nighthowl. It makes wolves hallucinate, rage, lose themselves. So while my blood poured out, wolfsbane burned my veins, and Nighthowl twisted my head until every face looked like an enemy.” The memories clawed up my throat, but I forced them out.

He turned it around and aimed at Valen whose heart skipped a beat. Aldridge reached out for the bow and fixed everything all in. He positioned himself, almost like he intended to shoot Lucan. He smirked and then lowered his hand. "Do you know the name of this arrow? It's called Arrow of Death. No one can ever survive its heat. This arrow pierces through your whole body and brings out your heart." He explained and put the arrow and bow back. Lucan looked away, his lips parted as he tried to exhale in relief. His whole body shook because he thought he was a target.

If I die, I’ll die looking at my enemy. His teeth descend— And the night explodes. A sharp, ringing sound slices through the air, like crystal shattering. Light—bright, silver-blue light—slashes across the chamber. The wolf above me jerks violently. An arrow made of pure luminescence pierces through his shoulder and pins him to the wall. He howls. Not in triumph. In agony. I blink, dazed. Shapes pour through the tunnel entrance behind the rogues—tall, armored figures moving with impossible grace. Their blades glow with the same ethereal light as the arrow.