Saw Blade Bloodborne Novels & Stories

It glowed faintly, the markings along its edge pulsing like embers. Her hands shook violently. “What do I—” “Stab it!” I barked. “In the back. Drive it deep.” Her eyes widened, her whole body trembling. But then her jaw clenched, and she ran forward. “Move your hands!” she shouted at me. “Do it!” The blade came down, glowing crimson as it sank into the thing’s back. The creature let out a howl that made the air vibrate, so high-pitched it made Pelin clutch her ear with her free hand. Black blood sprayed, sizzling against the rug.

During my three-year-old son's preschool physical, his blood type didn't match mine or my wife's. I had just printed the divorce papers when I suddenly heard my son's voice. [This disgusting man is so stupid. He's raised me, his own little brother, as his son for years and still has no idea!] [Lol, hurry up and get divorced. Once they divorce, I can cling openly to my real mom!] [And divorced men are unwanted anyway. From now on, every dollar he earns will be mine!] My wife was still anxiously explaining, "Honey! I really never betrayed you! Do you really want a divorce?" I looked at my son's tightly closed lips and excited eyes, then tore up the divorce papers instead. "No divorce. S

The thick clothing that had protected them was now working against them—they were overheating, the mask making it harder to breathe. I grabbed the bone saw from where it had fallen. It wasn't designed as a weapon, but the serrated blade was sharp enough to cut through anything. The figure swung the knife in a wide arc, trying to open my throat. I ducked and brought the saw up, aiming for their forearm. The blade cut through their jacket sleeve and into flesh beneath. Blood soaked through the dark fabric. They screamed—a sound of genuine pain that the voice modulator turned into something inhuman. But the wound wasn't as deep as I'd hoped. The jacket had absorbed most of the impact.

I didn’t even blink. My hands moved to the twin blades at my sides—obsidian-forged, curved, deadly. I’d carved the hilts with my own blood the night before I came here. I didn’t name them. They weren’t sacred. They were efficient. The beast let out a roar that shook the arena. Dust spilled from the balconies. I heard nobles flinch. Someone screamed. I ran straight toward it. No hesitation. No waiting for orders. Let the vampires see this clearly.

The wind howled violently, scratching at my throat until I felt an itch that seemed to make me want to cough. "Enough talking. Choose, or I'll let them both go." At Amber's signal, the men next to us hoisted both me and Tara up. The salty sea breeze hit me in the face, and the sharp smell of ocean water churned my stomach. However, nothing compared to the screaming in my ears. Before I could even draw a breath, Ethan had already made his choice. At that moment, everything went silent. Amber instinctively turned to look at me. My vision flickered and spots of black clouded my sight, but I did not know why.

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.

The blade was jagged, pitch black, and it gave off a faint, eerie glow even in the picture, like it absolutely wasn’t just metal but something alive somehow. My fingers intensely tightened around the phone. “What exactly is that thing?” I asked, my voice severely shaking. My eyes intensely flicked from the horrifying image to Stan, desperately looking for a hint that this was just some sick, awful joke he was playing. His voice dropped lower, urgent and desperate now. “It’s clearly called the Wolfblood Killer blade. That specific blade can truly kill any werewolf, even the strongest one. I personally saw Enzo’s mom openly give it to Dean. If that terrible knife simply goes through Enzo’s che

A blade sliced toward my neck. I bent low then drove my sword into his ribs. Turned. Pulled it free. Blood sprayed hot across my hands. Someone screamed behind me. I spun. An attacker had Soren pinned against a tree. Sword raised. I moved. Fast. Too fast. Pain ripped through my chest. I ignored it then grabbed a dagger from a corpse and threw it. The blade sank into the attacker’s eye. He dropped. Soren shoved the body off and stared at me. His chest heaved.

She swipes at his face and thick drops of blood splatter to the floor. He returns with his own perfectly timed counter move and slices across her back as she pivots in the air. The pain screams into my body from her wound too, and my mind vibrates with fear. I can’t just stand and watch her be killed. I grab the bag and reach in, the sword is right on top still where I left it. The silver of the blade shines brightly in the sun as the full length is unsheathed from the hidden depths of my backpack. He has her pinned under his front paw as he snaps his enormous, powerful jaw right next to her face. Her own paws push against his chest and throat keeping his teeth from meeting their target. ‘Do

Blood fountained. “Abby—!” I barked, slicing down another orc, blade humming with mana. “I see them!”