Saw Blade Tattoos Novels & Stories

Her teeth were chattering, and she didn't even know it. In one swift move he took off his jacket and draped it around her front. Then, he led her to a corner, right under a streetlight, keeping his hands on her shoulders as he peered closer at the wound. It was pulsing. Black veins surrounded the red gash, contrasting against the dried blood like spiderwebs. The dark tendrils were slowly retreating, the cut itself closing up, but there was no mistaking the signs, the marks. This was created by a Sygnian blade, the same material Navea had almost used on Kat.

If her blood was indeed an Empyreal Weapon, then it might have a name too. Sevyh pulled one of his sabers. The handle was dark-red, carved with fish scales—both guards had a fishtail form, and the long blade was silver and curved. He showed them the carved writing on the blade near the guard. “Twin Blades of Agaski?” Larice muttered.

I assumed it was made by the Shakra though it was a little different, like the blade had burned right through her skin. I placed my hands at both sides of her temple, chanting, diving into what was left of her mind in hopes I could see her final moments and the face of the witch spy who had killed her. I found her last memory but all I could see of the witch who'd killed her was just a hand with a tattoo of three tiny stars that were identical to the ones on the Shakra blade. I gasped in pain, pulling my hands away from her head to wipe the blood that had dripped down my nose. That was when I felt the familiar presence. I turned around and my gaze instantly fell into Alexander's emerald gree

His obsidian eyes locked mine instantly, dragon tattoo flashing at his throat as the blade whirled. Rourke spun, pliers, clattering, meaty paw diving for the holstered Glock. Too slow. Kenji surged, katana slicing air whisper-deadly, carving deep into Rourke's forearm—fabric parting, muscle sheared clean, arterial spray painting concrete crimson arcs. Harlan bellowed, gun skittering useless, clutching the ruin as blood jetted hot.

"I see you got some new ink." Jozef touched the side of his neck and nodded. A Kizlyar blade had been seamlessly inked in among his other tattoos. It was the knife favoured by Russian Spetsnaz for its lightweight durability. Jozef had inherited one from his father, who had once worked for the Russian special forces. Jozef had used the blade, which had been illicitly mailed to him by Havel while guards looked the other way, to dispatch each of the three Vory he'd taken out in prison. Each man was represented by a drop of blood tattooed beneath the tip of the blade.

“I prefer a double bladed sward.” “I know. Vincent told me. That is why I bought you this.” Ethan grabbed a box that I didn’t realize was even there. Pulling out the most beautiful set of blades I had ever seen. They each had a tri-angled blade with three prongs at the base. Once twisted together, they made up one long double-bladed sward. Each handle was custom to fit my smaller hand, but he had it engraved. “Luna Grace…” Etched into the blades in delicate script, I was blown away.

With that in mind, Blade started to go crazy. He let out an angry roar as he shot forward like an arrow, rushing at Chris once again. There was a crazed look in his eyes and he was determined to injure Chris at all costs! He shouted out, "Die!" The chakram in his hand sent out five slashes in a row. All of them emitted a chilling glint. The five slashes contained incredible killing intent. In a flash, they appeared in front of Chris. Chris let out a light laugh as he formed seals once again, causing starlight to surround his body.

Their low crafting levels made the products too crude to function, and instead, he made them go with the other crafters to grind. Another welcomed addition was a new magical device that the tribe invented, using his concept of making small enchantments and combining them in a complete artifact. The result was the crystal power saw. "Even if it's expensive, i can't say that I'm not satisfied..." The blade was a circular sheet of diamond with little "dents" that worked as the teeth of the saw. It got permanently enchanted with [Enhanced durability] and [Sharpen], so it would be easier to work with wood. A copper rod connected the blade with the "mechanism" inside the wooden frame. It consisted

I casually approach him, raising my hand and placing my index finger over my lips, silently informing the guards not to squeak a word in every corner. Standing in front of Castello, I withdraw the scalpel from my pocket and lightly run the pad of my thumb over the blade. "Sharp little fucker isn't it?" I chuckle, showing him the small cut on my thumb. Stepping forward, I press the blade against his shirt, moving my hand down and I cut it open, putting his chest and tattoo on full display. His tattoo is quite beautiful in its own fucked up way in all honesty. It's simple, yet, captivating.

Some in memory of the lives I was forced to take and others to remind me why I was here, why I was so dark and hollow inside. Two tattoos held more meaning than the rest, though. The first is the crest for the Bloodstone pack. It sat just above my heart. Two wolves howled at the moon on opposite sides of a sword that sunk between a crown and shield—roses growing around the tip of the blade.