Flamingo 5 Blade Razor Novels & Stories

Blade came out with his usual all black clothing—a big black sweatshirt, a black baggy jean, black glasses, black face cap, black sneakers— and a revolver carefully tucked by his side. To my shock, the passenger door opened and a girl came out. She was obviously young, probably fourteen or fifteen with red hair and a round hazel eyes which peered at me through the glass of the coffee shop. I couldn’t help but wonder who she was and why Blade had decided to bring her along. They both shared words before walking towards the coffee shop. “Emily!” Blade called as he walked inside with his companion right behind him. “I’m right here,” I said waving my hands in the air to draw his attention.

The crowd could feel that the heat and cold had collided while looking at the swords on the stage. “Let me introduce to you the Blaze Wild Sword and the Deadly Glaze Sword. Blaze Wild Sword is a must be suggested for the people who had fire attributes and were accustomed to fire. The Deadly Glaze Sword is for the people who had Ice attributes. These swords are made by a Grade 5 Novice Armament Master.” Lark Oz said while showing them the swords that Luna had made.

Then I grabbed my sheath for my waist and inserted my seven inch parkerized blade. “Holy Moon Goddess! You look like you are going to war.” Rory squealed. I laughed at her energy. I look over at Aiden who is looking at me with some emotion I cannot name. The last thing I grab is my Kukri Machete. It’s eight inches long and completely black. There is only a thin silver lining along the edge. It’s great for combat, but I am going to slice through some of the targets. “Okay, I’m ready.”

The blade passed harmlessly through, leaving nothing but rippling darkness in its wake. Kael didn’t stop. He pivoted instantly, dragging his blade back across the arc where the figure reformed. This time, he infused the strike with everything he had—speed, force, and a raw edge of fury that burned through his veins. The shadows recoiled. Not much. But enough. A faint ripple—like something real had been touched. “There you are,” Kael muttered. Behind him, Lira darted forward, her twin blades flashing as she slashed through the lingering tendrils. “So it can be hit,” she said, breath steady despite the tension. “That’s something.”

I didn't catch the eye of most because I was known to be wolfless and the fact that wasn't the case actually made me giggle a little thinking about it. Walking into the diner I was a bit suprised to see not only Duke and Flint sitting about midway through the diner but the brothers from the other pack sitting with them. I chuckled thinking it was probaly them leaving the note as a stupid prank or warning. I walked in fully planning just to step into the office and talk to Mama Rose. "What you doing here rouge? begging for scraps." Flint hollered at me. I rolled my eyes, it was so obvious when he used rouge as a term not my name and I knew he was looking for a reaction from me. I locked eyes

He crosses the room and pulls something from a rack. A knife. It looks lethal and beautiful at the same time. He holds it out to me. I stare at it. “You’re joking.” Shocked at the absurdity of giving me a knife. He does not smile. I take it. It’s heavier than I expect. The blade is shiny and has a little mark on it a flame. I had googled Fiammella. It is Italian for little flame. Heat tints the top of my ears red. “This is your first personal knife.” He says with all seriousness and I look up at him.

“Claudia will not stop until she makes me part of the weapon she forges. I cannot wait for her to strike. I must hold the truth myself.” Alexander looked at her for a long moment, then kissed her hand gently. “Then we will carry it together.” Outside, the wind rose, rattling the windows with the sound of branches clawing against glass. Evelyn stood at the balcony, looking over the city lights. Somewhere across the continent, Claudia Moreau was gathering fragments of the past and sharpening them into a blade. Evelyn whispered to herself, “Let her build it. We will be ready when she draws it.”

161 Zara's POV "Oh god, Zara! I'm scared for you." My fake sobs came to a halt as I heard an equally jarring fake gasp on the call. "How big is the knife? Is it a katana? Or a machete?" The mockery in those words pierced my ego like the tip of an obsidian blade. When I say obsidian blade, I remember reading once that it is the sharpest blade in the world. One can only imagine how deep the tip wounded my ego.

Michael said coldly, "The Blade of the Rising Sun contains the condensation of the heavenly flames. It does not visibly burn, but anything that comes into contact with the blade will evaporate in the blink of an eye without even leaving any ashes behind. Are you ready to meet your doom?" "No," Wilbur said calmly. Michael roared furiously. "Take this!" He ducked to the side, swinging the Blade of the Rising Sun towards Wilbur. Wilbur darted away, moving about ten meters to the side. The spot where he had been standing erupted with a loud boom. Countless black cracks appeared within a ten-meter radius of the space. Wilbur frowned. The Blade of the Rising Sun seemed to be capable of disintegrat

She walked stiffly into the sprawling, pristine marble bathroom. She opened the mirrored medicine cabinet, searching frantically through imported skincare bottles, colognes, and grooming tools. At the very back of the bottom shelf, her fingers brushed against a sleek, heavy-duty leather grooming kit belonging to Darius. She unzipped it with shaking fingers. Nestled inside the professional grooming pouch was a set of stainless steel personal care tools, including a sharp, disposable straight razor blade designed for close shaves. Celine pulled the small blade out. It gleamed coldly under the bright vanity lights, razor-thin and impossibly sharp.