Hidden Wrist Blade Novels & Stories

"And I don't need a sterile field to take it out." "Try it, human." He lunged. The curved blade came at my neck from a horizontal angle, faster than anything I had faced on the ice. I leaned back, the tip of the steel whistling an inch from my chin. I countered with a low jab aimed at his lower abdomen, but his left hand snapped down but his yellowed claws clamped around my wrist like an iron vise. The cold of his grip was absolute. It felt like my radius and ulna were about to shatter under the pressure.

Before turning around and breaking into a sprint, he sprinted right before dipping back to the left. Unfortunately, it was the wrong move. As soon as he turned his back on the woman, something snatched his blade arm from underneath him. His elbow was encircled by a sticky tentacle that reached all the way to his wrist. It was soft and pliable, so even when it squeezed firmly, his leg was spared. Despite this, the hold it had on him was firm, and his feet were on the verge of slipping out from under him. He fought the tentacle with one hand while reaching for his knife with the other. His hands were now immobilized as a second tendril snagged them.

I start walking back into the direction of the trees until I lost sight of the grass path and Penny and Wade. “Kil!” Penny shouts. I can’t see her and I can’t hear her well. I sit down beside a tree and reach for my phone inside my hoodie pocket. I grab it and open the back. I grab a razor blade and look at it. I feel nothing. I press it into my wrist until it bleeds, I can’t feel it I just see blood. I pull it towards me then I do the other wrist. Still it feels numb. Then I put it to my neck and drag it across, blood follows. I just sit and wait. I can hear Penny and Wade shouting me but I can’t answer. I close my eyes and waited.

I hissed in pain as the metallic stench of my own blood mingled with his, the blade having sliced through both my leather arm brace and the skin. I cursed under my breath and finished the rogue off swiftly. The knife clattered to the ground beside his now-limp hand, revealing a strangely beautiful silver hilt with a ruby embedded in it. Oddly ornate for a rogue—likely stolen. I took the knife and slipped it into the sheath at my hip.

"I can't- I can't do this anymore., I whispered. Then I pushed the tip into my wrist. I looked down at the blade sticking out of my skin and took in a deep breath. I clenched my jaw as I started to drag the blade towards my elbow. I could hear and feel the skin rip apart from the blade as I pressed against the metal. My mouth opened as I watched blood quickly pour from the wound. It was painful, but my life has been nothing but pain. I was used to always being hurt by others, but this pain was different. It was different because I had control of the blade I held in my fingers. The wound felt like fire as the sting slowly set in, and a rush of adrenaline kicked in as I watched dark blood star

My heels clicked lightly against the tile floor as I approached her bedside. She didn’t stir. Perfect. I reached into my pocket, pulling out the small blade I always carried. It was sharp, its edge catching the faint light as I held it against my palm. I took a deep breath, steadying my hand before pressing the blade into my skin. The pain was brief, a sharp sting that gave way to the warm sensation of blood pooling in my palm.

He holds out his hand, grasping the other man’s in a friendly, peacekeeping shake that lasts less than a second. “Careful, buddy. Looks like you hurt yourself.” The man lifts his arm, puzzled to find thick red blood streaming down his pale flesh, past his wrists and into the sleeve of his suit. He seems to be unable to grasp what just happened, and I don’t blame him, because neither can I— at least, until I notice the two vertical cuts slicing his wrist. They are claw shaped. Deep. And they run parallel to the long vein in his inner arm. In fact, they barely missed it.

I reached out slowly and wrapped my fingers around the handle. I held it up. Water streamed down the blade in thin silver lines. “I’ve got no choice…” I whispered to the empty steam.

Just me, silence, and a truth I couldn’t outrun. The blade was where I’d left it. Carefully hidden beneath a false floor tile and shrouded with cloth enchanted to dampen aura bleed. It wasn’t a standard weapon. This one had been gifted to me after the hybrid trials. Blood-forged. Custom-coded to react to the specific fingerprint of my aura signature. One of the only things that still felt real when the rest of my memories seemed to come and go like smoke.

I didn’t even breathe before the man pulled something from inside his jacket that looked like a blade, sharp enough that the weak chandelier glow caught the edge and threw it straight at me. “No!” Caleb shouted. Everything slowed. The scream ripped from Lucy. Derek’s body lunging forward. Adrian’s hand was crushing tighter around my waist, like he could shield me with his own bones. But the blade was already slashing toward me. Straight at the scar hidden under my glove. I couldn’t move and couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even do anything but stare as the silver edge came closer. And then… It didn’t hit. My wrist, my cursed, burning wrist, exploded in light.