Johnny Blade Black Sabbath Novels & Stories

His short blonde hair and chisled features make him the lady killer he is. Chris is jacked. His brown hair and rugged look gives him that bad boy look. It also helps that he's covered in tribal ink and wearing a black tank. Blade is scary, but the ladies fucking love him. Hazel eyes, dark tanned skin. Ink all over. His long black hair give him the hard metal look that make the girls wet. And he knows it too. He's also bigger then all of us, which is good if we ever get in 'heated discussions'.

He was the wealthy, arrogant playboy girls would swoon around, and also the Blade family's eldest son. "Ezekiel?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ezekiel Blade,” he said. "Why are you without your glasses, freckle face?” He always mentioned his last name like he was nothing without it. But I knew that he loved the name so much as it meant people would fear him. I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand away from his grip. “Still a bully, huh? Besides, I don't wear glasses anymore, and I'm definitely not freckle face. It's Lydia Winters,” I said, mimicking his words.

Blood darkens his fur. He doesn’t make a sound. The cut doesn’t slow him. I duck under a snapping jaw and roll, coming up on one knee with my second blade already up. I strike again. Deeper. Cleaner. This is familiar. The burn in my arms. The narrowing of my vision. The way the rest of the world drops out when my body remembers what it’s for.

And it will be impossible for them to destroy the true enemy - the Beast! John inspected his blades and stroked them, especially admiring the sterling silver engraving that showed up as soon as he held them in his hands. The Blades recognized their Master, their Creator. The engraving on one of the blades read: "Ta - revo" - "I am death." And on the other: "Ve'ol, E'khor!" - "Fear, Beast!" "My blades," Black whispered, still holding his blades in his hands. - How, it turns out, I missed you!

“By the way, I saw your latest artwork. It was good but it would have been better if you didn’t do it in the public bathroom. There’s the congress and senate, Basti. “Had you fed in those places, I probably wouldn’t have a problem with it. I would even happily hand over some of the congressmen and the senators to you including your daddy dearest.” Blade’s eyes narrowed as he grabbed my neck and lifted me with just one hand. The more I try to free myself, the more his grip tightens. “But you failed to do that.” Steven and Leo tried attacking him but with just one look, the two dropped on the ground, screeching from pain.

I'm just about to drive my blade through Jonathon’s heart, finally, after all the blood and games, when movement flashes at the edge of my vision. Instinct takes over. I pivot mid-strike, blade skimming wide as I counter with my elbow, narrowly blocking the oncoming blow. The force behind it stings. He steps out of the shadows, tall, composed, his black hair slicked back like he walked out of an old portrait, but those eyes, those glowing red eyes, scream hunger, control, obsession.

"Put your hands behind your head and step out from behind the-" Before I can finish, a hefty male darts out and plunges himself towards Cassandra with full force, the flashlight illuminating the iridescent colored switchblade in his hand. He tackles Cassandra to the floor, toppling his large body over her dinky self, and raises the blade in the air, preparing to stab her. I aim my gun and flashlight, shining a light on the male subject. "Drop the blade or I'll shoot," I command, my voice raising. My heart is beating at a rapid pace and my breathing is unsteady as I watch my partner lay on the floor beneath the subject with his legs pinning her arms down.

Holding a baby with a black birthmark on his forehead at the edge of the cliff. "I saw it..." Black tears were flowing through her angelic face. "I saw.. it...this child." She pointed a black dagger made up of her blood to her son's face. "Rean! put my son down!!" A sudden thunder has struck the woman, lighting up the whole place. Kepler grins. His son was growing way too far from his grip. The other team has lightened up the torch with the red smoke, Alkhun lighted up the torch with black smoke...

“I–fuck, I don’t know how to even begin to answer that–” “Soren, that’s enough,” Blake says from the archway then turns to Ryatt, Evander within sight in the room behind them. “Soren and I have been working together for the past five years, moving Hannibal’s marks into hiding and killing anyone working with him against the Allied Kingdoms.” Kenna gasps, whirling, but Ryatt just… stares at him. “Soren is what the media calls the Blade. He was the Spider’s assassin, but I turned him to our side. We have Hannibal exactly where we need him now. It’s time to act.”

the killer said while licking the blood of Yman's father that was staining on the killer's sword. "This is, great! More soul...more soul...more soul for this greedy sword of mine. Hahahaha!" He was spreading his hands as he said it, and the sword was oozing with black energy. On the hilt of the sword, the monster's mouth was carved at the tip of it. And fangs were visible at the boundary of blade and hilt. Yman felt the chill coming from the sword. And a sinister feeling was pressuring him that made him unable to run and rooted his feet to where he was standing.