Hidden Wrist Blade Novels & Stories

a voice whispers in the back of my mind, a faint echo of something I’ve heard before. My eyes dart to the ground, scanning for anything that might help. And then I see it, a blade, discarded and glinting faintly in the dim light. It’s coated in wolf’s poison, the only thing that could weaken someone like him. I don’t think. I move. Diving toward the blade, I roll as the Blade Alpha’s claws tear through the space where I was moments ago. My hand closes around the hilt, the cold metal biting into my palm.

I know in this moment it's the best option for me. I take the blade and slowly drag it along my left wrist in a straight line. Not even wincing from the blade slicing my skin open. The pain I feel inside much stronger than the physical pain. I look at my wrist seeing my blood spill out and move the blade to my left hand and opening my veins on my right wrist. Blood spilling out and into the bath. The water turns red from all the blood and I feel calm.

I slid one out of the box and looked at it shining in my hand. With that I took the small blade in my hand, I lined it up to my left wrist, my tears had stopped knowing I would be free from this awful world. Without another thought, I cut through the skin on my forearm and sliced it deep down the wrist that didn't have my brand. Instantly I shouted in pain and my breathing quickened as blood poured out quickly. The pain was greatly welcomed as I knew that for once, I was in control. I was just about to do the same on my other arm but my hand was grabbed, the blade was forced out of my grasp and a hand clamped down on my deeply wounded arm, my teeth began chattering as coldness swept over me

I try to back away, but there’s nowhere to go. As one of the men reaches out to grab me, I act on instinct. I reach into my waistband and pull out a small blade I took from the lab earlier. I’ve hidden it under my top, hoping it might come in handy. With a swift motion, I lunge forward; the blade glinting in the dim light. The man lets out a startled cry as the blade pierces his arm. He stumbles back, clutching his wound. His companion jumps at me, but I’m ready. I sidestep his attack and drive the blade into his shoulder. He howls in pain, his grip on his weapon loosening.

I’d carried it for years out of habit, forgotten it was even there. They hadn’t searched me properly. My heart pounded as I twisted my wrist carefully, inch by inch, feeling for the hidden weight beneath the fabric of my sleeve. There. Relief surged through me so fast it nearly made me dizzy. Slowly—carefully—I worked the blade free, praying the movement wouldn’t be noticed. My hands shook as I pressed it against the rope, sawing gently, teeth clenched against the pain as the fibers dug deeper into my skin. Come on. Come on.

Every movement was fluid, like mercury. "It is perfect," she admitted, and stopped in front of me, barely an arm's length away. "As if it were poured over me. It does not restrict my movement." She extended her arm and showed me the hidden seam at her wrist. With a single, barely noticeable motion, she slid out one of the black steel daggers. The blade flashed in the morning light, then disappeared into its sheath just as quickly. "And the weapons?" I asked, trying to focus on the technical details and not on how her chest rose and fell beneath the tight material.

​The hand shot through the raw tear in the fabric before my fingers could retreat, black fingers clamping around my wrist with a shock of dead, numbing cold. I screamed, driving the crimson edge of the Crown Blade downward with every ounce of panic left in my chest. It struck his forearm with a dull hiss, black blood splattering across the cold stone, and he recoiled into the shadows. My other self slammed into my side, her arms wrapping tight around my waist to haul me backward across the floor.

"Thank you, Aunt Cleo. This means a lot to me." The pendant Aunt Cleo gave Aqua was nothing short of mesmerizing. Crafted from sterling silver, the pendant was shaped like a delicate crescent moon, symbolizing the mysterious and potent nature of Aqua's powers. At the center of the crescent nestled a large, oval-cut gemstone that was uniquely clear, like a drop of captured morning dew. The clarity of the stone made it particularly special, as it reflected Aqua's emotional state, changing color with her mood. Intricate filigree work adorned the crescent moon, with tiny symbols and runes etched into the silver, each representing protection and strength. The craftsmanship was exquisite, making i

The room yielded nothing, fueling my desperation. I needed to act before anyone would come in. Weakness gripped me, dizziness clouding my vision. And then, there it was—a blade, lying innocently beneath the bed. Grasping it, I knew it was time to sever the lifeline in my wrist, to end it all.

I asked, brushing my fingers over his wrist. He hesitated, his thumb tracing idle circles on my waist as though stalling. “This was left behind when Ronald and I tried tracking one of the spies. We didn’t exactly find any of our men with them, but we heard whoever it was speaking with someone. Before we could make out who it was, this was thrown at us, and they escaped.” He finally uncurled his fingers, revealing a narrow blade no longer than my hand. Sleek, blackened steel, sharpened to a wicked point on both ends.