Red Rising Sling Blade Novels & Stories

“I let myself believe again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…” “Well,” Thorne interrupted, “I think the show’s over.” He pulled out a long silver blade from his robes. It shimmered under the emergency lights. “Let me show you what I do with weak links.” Before I could react, he moved. Fast. Too fast. Like he didn’t follow the same rules of time as the rest of us. The blade sliced across the first girl’s throat. She collapsed without a word. Then the next. And the next. And finally, Riven.

I caught the unit by the high-collar of its suit, my fingers crushing the reinforced plating, and slammed it into the granite fireplace. The stone cracked. The Harvester’s head caved in with a dull, wet thud of hydraulics. Silence rushed back into the room, heavy and jagged. I stood over the wreckage, chest heaving. The Phantom Blade dripped with a mix of synthetic fluid and the faint, silver sheen of my own blood where the kickback had nicked my thumb. I didn't look at the kills. I looked at my hands. The silver threads weren't just lacing my veins anymore; they were burning through the skin of my wrists, glowing with a violet light that refused to fade.

The titanium broadsword came down in a vicious, whistling descent that sliced through the gray sleet. I didn't step back into the deep ruts of the slush. Dropping my weight beneath the sweeping arc, I thrust my forearm upward, the heavy platinum signet ring on my finger catching the flat of the metal blade with a harsh, ear-splitting clang. The shockwave of the impact rattled my teeth, but my dual-lineage core converted the mechanical jarring into a burst of raw, protective adrenaline. Before the mercenary could adjust his balance for a secondary thrust, I drove my calloused fist straight through the center of his reflective visor.

His grin revealed his thrill, his whole stance vibrating with the pent-up excitement of combat. Opposite him stood Rani, ethereal in her flowing blue hooded attire. She wore no armor, yet her stance was calm and resolute. Her pale skin gleamed like fresh snow under the stadium lights, her gaze as cold and piercing as winter’s bite. With a fluid movement, she unsheathed her rapier, its slender blade catching the light with an icy gleam. As she held it aloft, frost crystals began forming at its tip, extending down the blade in delicate, fractal-like formations. Her porcelain face was serene, but her gaze fixed on Red with unyielding intensity.

I I leaned back just in time as the blade whirred past me, barely grazing the tips of my hair. I straightened my back as he attacked me aggressively, swinging the blade left and right, as he kept moving forward. The hilt was red in color while the pommel was round and black in color. On the blade, near the base, I saw an insignia- a skull. “The shadow assassins” I thought as I looked at the sword and the black masked man. He seemed to let out a growl as he lunged at me again. I ducked again and yelled,

Henry bellows, anger coating his voice. Sherly snorted and rolled her eyes with a smirk playing on her lips. She juts her hip out and allows her eyes to scan over the crowd. Once she finds what she is looking for in the tree line, she lingers a second too long, and I snap my eyes over to see what she has fixated on. Darrius and Dom, who should have left my pack lands days ago, are standing at the tree line with their warriors. A similar playful, arrogant smirk plays on Darrius’s face as he keeps his eyes locked on Sherly. Cold, violent rage fills me. ‘DID YOU KNOW’ I scream at Spear.

“I put on make-up, not really good at it but I’m quite decent if I say so myself.” Krister could only nod his head as Rojean had left already to the walk-in closet to change before grabbing Sei’s mask on the table, his eyebrows furrowing. She came out with a different bag than what Krister intended for her to use, from a black to a red one. “This bag is cuter, I want this more. It still goes with the outfit anyway.” she said, feeling as if there was something lacking in her appearance. She blocked out her mind and her face dropped the expressions it had before walking towards Krister. “Now?”

The hunter dropped from the ceiling, silent as shadow, fast as vengeance. Their swords clashed — black against silver, old against unbroken. “Still slow,” the hunter sneered. “She softened you.” “You never let yourself feel enough to be softened,” Riven snarled. Their blades met again, sparks flying as the vault pulsed with firelight. The hunter’s gaze was pure rage. > “You were supposed to rise beside me. You were *meant* to become the blade she fears.” Riven’s blade slipped under the hunter’s guard. Blood. Shallow. But it shocked him.

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 looked past them, the fight was dying down and my guys were winning but they were too far. Selene closed her eyes and moaned like it felt good. Axel leaned in, lips by my ear. “Watch this.” He pulled a silver blade from his waistband. It was long, sharp and glowed faint blue from whatever poison coated it. He raised it high straight to my chest. At that moment, I had no strength left to move, so I just closed my eyes. Ethan’s scream made my eyes open fully. He was running at full speed towards me.