Joker's Knife From Dark Knight Novels & Stories

Unaware of the chaos in the dungeon, Zen took his time soaking in the tub after teaching Joaquin and Elena how to maintain some of his kitchen tools. The knives were the only tools he didn’t allow them to touch. A chef’s knives were akin to their hands and lives. If he could, he would have a set of ceramic knives made instead, as they were more durable and didn’t need sharpening as much.

I pull off his jacket and remove the knife from my thigh holster. Christian chuckles. “So now you want to get me out of my clothes? And how did you know I’m into knives?” He says sarcastically, and I shoot him a glare as I rip open his black shirt. “Not the time or the place, Drakos,” I say, but he only shakes his head as a smile remains.

I was sensing a theme to the day; I wondered, apathetically if I was going to perhaps be forced into unconsciousness too. Ignorant of my inner turmoil, Niko produced another dagger using his sleight of hand, but this one was different from his normal throwing knives. This dagger was curved like a sickle, the wicked blade shining with a gleaming amber edge. This one, this weapon could kill. And, from the way the underlord was tossing it back and forth between his hands like one might an orange, it was a blade he was very keen on using.

Professor Pops chuckled, and I couldn't help the smile that curled up on my lips. "Let's not count on it." He stroked my head with his free hand, and I drew in a deep breath, enjoying his smell: Old books, paper, and cigars. After several minutes I pulled away and considered him. "I'll be stronger, which will make it more difficult for me to die, but I can be killed the same as any human." It was a statement. One that I knew, as I spoke, was correct. "Exactly." He held the blade, still sheathed in a black cover, in both hands. "This is called a jokoto or katana, which is the now universal term."

Archer spoke to himself as he tried to arrange the papers within the files, accordingly on the shelf. I tightened my fidgeting hand on the long object in my pocket. I closed my eyes, trying to gather all the internal encouragement I needed. "This is the least you can do." I muttered to myself as I slowly yet confidently pulled out the sharp poisoned knife from my pocket. The edge of the knife was a dark purple due to the potion the stranger had given to me. Archer bent his head as he squinted at one of the files in his hands and I knew this was my only chance. I could finally give my loved ones the peace they deserved. My claws extended as I hardened my hold on the knife and raised it with i

“Then you take a weapon! Make sure you can defend yourself if needed!” “I’m going to,” revealing from my other pocket the tiny silver blade Declan had given me before leaving. It had been confiscated from Viktor, edged with silver and intricately carved; it was a small and lethal blade. Easily concealed, Declan had made me promise to keep it on me. Then I painstakingly twisted one small black key with six notches out of the metal loop.

“Aww, you think threatening me makes you a mighty giga chad, do you? I’ve been a member of the lawless underground society for more than ten years, and no one has ever dared wave a threat in my face! Are you happy that you’re the first? Now, come receive your reward!” Phantomknife unsheathed his snowy, shiny blades and pointed their tips at Javier. Cold glints bounced off their surface, making for a terrifying entrance, but little else happened, as Phantomknife never got to hit Javier with them. He felt a sharp pinch on his wrist and saw Javier’s silhouette get blurry. The next time his eyes focused, his shiny blades had changed hands. Javier was the one aiming the pointy bits at him now.

He asked, and my eyebrows knitted, wanting to ask how he knew about it. He didn’t need to hypnotize me. I took the pocketknife from my pants pocket and gave it to him. I was also curious about the weapon Oliver handed me that would kill someone like Izobel. He eyed and studied the knife, and when Zena walked towards him, he raised his hand, stopping her. “Silver.” It was the only word he uttered before folding it and returning it to me. “Silver?” Amber creased her forehead. “But it doesn’t work on Izobel-”

He took a small rectangular-shaped box out of his coat and gave it to Eunicia. She hastily opened it to see a brand new custom-made 15-inch Xerrohmite steel knife with a high-frequency molecular edge making it very easy to cut even Adamantine steel. It also had a pair of dark-Iron leather armored gloves to pair with the knife. "Are these really for me? The steel knife alone must have cost a fortune, let alone the gloves feel like they were just recently woven!" Eunicia shouted in glee. Kent smiled explaining that he made them for her despite her objections long ago. Every time they are deployed to practice, Eunicia's weapons break easily while competing against the other squads who are using

he kneeled, not caring of the blood staining his hand as he bowed his head to the floor. “Yes, you are just an employee, however, you’re the one assigned to take care of all the items for auction right?” Maynard asked him, removing his hand from the pockets of his long coat he gripped the steel bar of the cage. In a single strong grip, the steel bends opening enough space for the child to escape from. “You were also responsible for the pain of this child and the death of his family.” ‘No! I - - -” it was a silent killing and the loud thud of the Joker’s head was all that was heard.