Sheath And Knife Comic Novels & Stories

Perhaps revolted by my insults to his dead clan member or insulted by my casual treatment of the threat they pose, he attacks me, stabbing a knife in my face, aiming for my eye. I lean back, letting the knife pass inches in front of my nose, slicing through air. Casually, I catch his hand and snap the ulna, the elbow joint, and the humerus. It's like squeezing a twig. He's too surprised to react, or maybe I'm just moving too quickly. I send a casual punch aimed at his neck. His spine shatters, his head flopping to the side, dead eyes staring at me, his mouth opening in a scream that never left his lungs.

Forms blurred dance—draw, cut, sheath—bodies colliding controlled violence, each brush electric foreplay. Shoji rattled suddenly, splintering shadow-intrusion. Five figures burst ink-black—board rebels, faces twisted vendetta, tanto knives glinting malice under dojo lanterns. Leader snarled Japanese filth, blade arcing Kenji's throat. Time fractured slow-mo: his bokken snapped block, but flanking wolves lunged my blindside.

the boy said as soon as he got to me. I stopped pacing and watched him. He went down on his knees and reached behind him. When his hands came back up, he held out a small blue velvet sheath with both hands and raised it to me like he was presenting a sacrifice to the gods. My hands were still behind me as I watched the gift. The sheath had diamond-like objects around the tail that went around the material to the top. I could tell it was a knife and the sheath casing was beautiful. But I was sure of its content.

Jordan began to lose so much strength as he felt so weak and knew that it was just a matter of time before Sonia would be done with him. While he was about to give up, he saw a very small knife and capped it without Sonia noticing and so, when Sonia tried to grab a chunk of his hair, he pierced the knife into her stomach and she began to stagger and bleed. Jordan could not believe it, he finally had an edge over her and so didn't waste time, he pinned her down and used the knife to slit her throat. Everyone in the pack erupted into a loud shout as their enemy had just been smittened. Jordan raised the small knife up and showed it to all of them as his sign of victory over their worst enemy.

She didn't want to have to explain Somito dropping her off to both of them. "Especially not Nomo Sofia was about to open it when Somito called out, “Hang on.” She glanced over in time to see him reach into the pocket of his jacket, draw out what appeared to be a knife secured in a leather holster. “I want you to take this,” he said. Sofia took the knife and unclipped the holster. Sofia slid the leather holster off, revealing a short sword with a length of about four inches, and blue lines running down its side, resembling those on Somito’s tattoos.

"Okay fine. A—uh, a few years ago I was screwing around in the armory with Jax. We were practicing with the different weapons and we found this really cool knife that was great for throwing. We were complete dumbasses that both thought we were hot shit and so we were trying to see who could throw it closest to the other without actually hitting them. "I accidentally nicked Jax' shoulder and then tried to run because he was pissed but he threw it directly into my calf—turns out he's really good with throwing knives. The knife turned out to have a cursed blade and so we both spent weeks in the infirmary after that little stunt while they tried to reverse the magic. "Unfortunately, it left a lo

I look back at Skinner. He hands me a small knife; I pulls up my shirt sleeve and cut a small line putting the same pressure Knuckles was and all I do is wince slightly. I wave the knife at him when I'm done. I see Knuckles smirking at me. The skin starts to tingle where I put the small cut and I feel a rush run through me.

I hadn't been in it before, and I glanced around the dark gray, dreary room full of every weapon imaginable and gasped at the large painting on the wall of a female with her eyes scratched out and throwing knives stuck in her face. “Hmmm, still carrying a little anger about your past, Eh?” I asked him while I gestured at the riddled portrait. Shrugging he growled sourly without saying anything and headed to a trunk on the floor. “Choose a knife from the wall over there, Leora,” he huffed as he started grabbing piles of folded clothes. Examining the collection I bit my lip and reached for a Fairbairn Sykes knife with a wrapped black leather hilt.

My right hand goes to my boot. I grip the handle. Snap. The blade locks. I drive upward. I don't aim for the chest. I aim for the arm holding me. SHHK. The serrated steel bites into his forearm. It slices through the leather of his jacket and into the meat beneath. Kace screams. He drops his knife. He stumbles back, clutching his arm, blood welling up between his fingers. "Bitch!" he howls. "You cut me!" I step away from the wall. I hold the knife out, the blade dripping red. My hand is steady.

Who carries a knife like that anywhere? "You think you can beat me now? With your big ass knife?" I laugh. She steps forward swiping the knife in front of her. I move out of the way as she continues to come at me. I drop my backpack and snatch a textbook from someone in the crowd who's watching us. Gwen raises her hand coming at me for the kill. The knife cuts through the center of the textbook. I grab her wrist smiling at her. Her eyes widen when she realizes she messed up. The knife is stuck and I'm not about to let the book go to help her retrieve the knife.