Staring Daggers Novels & Stories

Drawing a prop dagger, a twisted grimace on her face, Scarlett snarled, "You witch, I'll send you to hell!" With that, she charged toward Diana. The prop dagger, designed to retract upon pressure, spraying fake blood, remained clutched tightly in Scarlett's hand. She aimed to inflict harm on this vile person! As per the script, Diana was supposed to be stabbed by her. Then Scarlett would deliver her lines before fatally hitting a nearby pillar. Yet, as Scarlett lunged with the dagger, Diana stood her ground. Suddenly, she extended her arm, landing a resounding slap on Scarlett's face.

I looked at him in disgust, my eyes scanning him from head to toe; he was in his boxers, and judging by the cameras and bed setting, I knew what he planned to do, and my blood boiled. In a swift motion, I retrieved a dagger concealed on my person, the cold steel meeting my hand with familiar reassurance. Fury surged through me as I thought of the deplorable scene before me—my woman, tied and vulnerable... My gaze never wavered as I took in the despicable sight, every ounce of my being seething with rage. Without a moment's hesitation, I unleashed the dagger with a force fueled by anger and protectiveness. The blade sliced through the air, finding its mark with satisfying precision.

I shrugged my shoulder. "Kind of, it's not bad if I am scared, I love Adrian and I don't want to lose him," "Now, stance." She moved back, circling me like a predator sizing up its prey. "Keep your feet apart, knees slightly bent. You need to stay light on your feet. Daggers are close-range weapons, so your movement is key. If you're rooted in place, you’re vulnerable."

Nicko replied and took out his own dagger with the name of our clan engraved on it. The dagger stands as our initials. It's the only thing that differentiate us from other clans. All at once, the gangsters lurched at us, growling and roaring like some wild animals. As the first gangster lurched at me, I swirled my dagger so fast that it moved with the speed of lightening, gouging out the eyes of the first gangster. He fell to the ground with a loud cry, holding his bloody eyes in his hand. Shrieking and wailing in pain.

Ragnar asked as he sat on his throne. "They are silent, my Lord. None of them said anything and nor did they retaliate." Nate said as Ragnar hummed. Glancing to his side, he stared at the number of weapons splayed out, the weapons which the warriors of the Omega organization were using. A dagger shone brightly among them all. He picked it up, the cool metal nestling against his palm like an old memory. The silver f*cking dagger. The same dagger that scarred him. Its blade bore intricate carvings, symbols, spirals, and curves etched deeper than before. The last time he’d held it, the designs had stopped at the hilt.

She clung to him tightly, like the trauma was still crawling on her skin. He just held her. Letting her sob into his shoulder. Back inside the room, Ray and Oliver stood in the midst of the chaos. “What the f*ck…” Ray muttered. Oliver narrowed his eyes. “What is this? What’s the meaning of this?” Ray’s face hardened. “We’ll worry about that later.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two sleek, silver daggers. Oliver didn’t say a word. He just gave a grim nod and did the same, pulling out two of his own.

He is dead," Damien replied curtly. Naferes's fangs grew and his eyes color changed just as his canine elongated. "Attaaaack!" He roared, in just a flash the once calm cool space turned into a bloodied battlefield. He dashes toward Damien thrusting his fangs into Damien's chest, Damien winces, while Naferes's mouth widens ready to bite Damien in his neck, but Daren was fast to stab Naferes bag with a silver dagger he was holding. Naferes groans in pain and released Damien, he turns instantly in the direction of Daren slashing his face with fangs.

Dagger needed not answer for it was already glaring at her. A roar stronger than the vibrating thunderclaps and louder than the lightning bolts shook the turbulent air of the arena. A humungous spear made of crimson flames aimed at the wall of infernal fire that gleamed like an emerald sheen amid the darkened place. A gasp escaped Dagger’s lips upon watching the first contact of the pointed red flames to the wall of green flames. “Aaah!” The wall that Dagger was pinned onto collapsed upon the vibration of the clashing of flames.

That or I'm truly stupid. I scoff but don't say anything. I finish my breakfast in silence and stand. "I'll be off then," I tell him. "Do you need anything else?" he asks. "I'd like my daggers back, please." I watch him as he sets down his papers and smiles at me. He slowly stands, coming close to me. I hold my ground, focusing on steadying my breathing as I feel the warmth of him. He lifts the lip of his shirt, revealing sheathed daggers on either side of his hips. He pulls them out, his eyes never leaving mine, and places them on the table.

He stared emotionless at all of them. “Who she is to me is none of your business. Let’s get over this.” With this, he pulled out his dagger from under his waist. The first thing that catches my attention is his glistening dagger. The blade shone at the reflection of the now-bright moon. The rogue of wolves as well pull out their weapons. My heart begins to beat fast. A rogue of wolves against a man? This is going to be so dangerous.