Flamingo 5 Blade Razor Novels & Stories

Blight, Ryker’s Gamma, steps forward with a grin on his face. He’s dressed in all black like me, with blackout tattoos covering his neck and arms. Short cropped blonde hair, grey eyes, tall but muscular; I’ve heard tales about this Gamma that rival my own. He has a penchant for killing humans in the most gruesome ways, and his favorite weapon is a JagdKommando knife; the deadliest of blades as it has three edges that spiral together like a corkscrew into a sharp tip. No doctor can sew up a wound left by this knife.

Yoel's eyes blazed with intensity as he bellowed. Whoosh! In a flash, his wrist flicked in a blur, his blade's movements a whirlwind of shadows that coalesced into a spectral blade, its presence icy and lethal. The phantom blade whirled with an almost magical speed, cutting through the combined assault of the five attackers with ease. It tore through their defenses, leaving a deep, terrifying slash on each of them. The elder from the Calnan family hesitated for just a moment before he crumpled to the ground, his body gruesomely split in two, blood gushing out like a fountain.

"Before I forget we're in a war zone and take you on this floor." I step back, breathless, my skin burning where he touched me. I move to the kitchen table. Spadino is there. He is perched on the edge of the wood, his feet resting on the bench. He is peeling a blood orange with a combat knife. The blade is six inches of serrated steel, designed to gut a man. In Spadino’s hands, it is a delicate instrument. He slices the rind in a perfect spiral, the zest releasing a burst of citrus scent into the air.

Solana is surrounded, a necromancer who obviously isn't fascinated by her, a vampire a mortal enemy, and the foxes, the zealots, the vermins. "The fog began to thicken and Solana's vision is busted. A blade was thrown at her, her reflexes are good enough to avoid being slashed. The blade's temper line is sharp and it could cut a person's head by just simply swinging it, what more if it's being thrown by a big bad fox. The fact that the blade that Foire was holding is made out of silver. "Don't hide, you bastards," Solana said hat provoke, well, Foire. He has the least temper amongst all in the circle. He came at Solana with his blades on fire. Solana hates fire, she has always hated fire.

Purple patches and blade marks marred his body, and even in a transformed state, the gaping wounds could be seen. Opposite him was Razor, the holder of the Blade Lion technique. Razor was also in his transformed state, towering over Shao by half a meter. His eyes were cold and menacing, not anything like his regular genial self, and his claws and paws were stained with Shao’s blood. Protruding from his elbows, forearm, heel, and calves, were sharp blades that could tear through steel easily. These blades were stained with Shao’s blood as well. In contrast, Razor did not have a single wound on him. “Submit,” his strong voice appealed to his opponent’s sense of reason. There was no need to con

With extreme fear, Delilah shook her head vigorously as she pleaded, "Tristan, it's me, Lila! What are you…" A scream echoed through the air as he slapped her harshly across the face. He inserted the dagger between her thighs, his tone frosty as he asked, "Was this what you did to my child?" With each word Tristan spoke, his voice grew quieter. Soon, all that could be heard were Delilah's faint gasps. The live stream flickered with static, but the ban still hadn't been enforced. I felt a chill down my spine as I met his eyes on-screen.

He stays put. Greg hands me the box, practically vibrating with anticipation. The knives are nestled in velvet, gleaming in the firelight. Of course, he went all out. I lift one, testing its weight. The balance is exquisite, better suited to my hands than the heavy Academy blades clearly designed for men. They practically hum against my palms, familiar and deadly. I step into position, six meters out. I could go further, but for this kind of precision, I want control. My breath steadies, the blade cool against my fingers. One flip, then another, testing the feel. Then I throw.

“What the fuck—” A deep, smoky voice whispered directly into her mind. **“Payment is due, little canvas.”** Invisible but very real hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks. Aria gasped as something hot and thick pressed against her pussy from behind. It felt like a cock — massive, ridged, and burning with the same heat as the tattoo. “No— wait—” The phoenix cock pushed inside her in one slow, relentless thrust. Aria cried out, fisting the sheets. It stretched her perfectly, filling her deeper than any man ever had. The heat spread through her entire body, making her clit throb and her nipples harden painfully.

Cameo asked from behind me as I stepped into the air-conditioned space. I ignored him. My fingers drifted lazily over the weapons. Metal kissing my skin, while one name burned through my mind. Abel Roshid. “Sir?” “Cameo, do as I’ve said.” My voice cut in, cold and final. His heavy sigh followed, then the sound of the door closing behind him. When I was alone, I picked the flick blade with serrated edges. Unsheathed it and ran my thumb along the ridges, feeling every bite of it. A dark smile curled on my face.

Raphael replied, "I do not plan to annihilate or conquer a race or anyone except Roosevelt, what I will do instead is forge an alliance between me and each race, just like the pact I want to propose to you, wolf." I demanded, "What pact exactly." He smirked, "Annihilating Roosevelt together, and serving me." Mars snapped, "You expect us to serve you? Who do you think you are?" Raphael gripped his sword, he looked seconds from unsheathing it, his fingers locked the hilt, I could witness frozen tendrils of mist bleeding out. "You nearly forced me to draw frostbite" So Raphael’s sword is called Frostbite Blade. The blade is long, straight, pale blue like glacier ice. It doesn’t shine. It drinks