The Blade Itself Audiobook Novels & Stories

Blade came out with his usual all black clothing—a big black sweatshirt, a black baggy jean, black glasses, black face cap, black sneakers— and a revolver carefully tucked by his side. To my shock, the passenger door opened and a girl came out. She was obviously young, probably fourteen or fifteen with red hair and a round hazel eyes which peered at me through the glass of the coffee shop. I couldn’t help but wonder who she was and why Blade had decided to bring her along. They both shared words before walking towards the coffee shop. “Emily!” Blade called as he walked inside with his companion right behind him. “I’m right here,” I said waving my hands in the air to draw his attention.

“I would carry you, but my side hurts pretty bad.” “What happened?” Alec stood up slowly. “A really bad man stabbed me with a knife.” Keisha’s eyes grew to the size of nickels “Whoa.” “Alec,” Lana whispered with worry. “It’s okay. I got this,” Alec said as he took Keisha’s hand. They started walking toward the stairs. “Yeah, but it’s okay. He won’t be bothering anybody again.” “Well, that’s good,” Keisha said. “Are you a policeman?”

“That enough explaining for you?” “Rafe,” I snarled. “And half his army.” I twisted the throttle harder, ignoring the fire in my side. “We break through.” “You’re out of your damn mind.” “Got a better plan?” Blade’s silence was answer enough. The laugh came again. Not from ahead, not from behind—this time it rode the wind itself, threading through the engines, curling around my skull. Blade jerked like he’d felt it too. “That wasn’t human.”

BLADE 3. Pain. It was all I felt when I shot my eyes opened. I felt so sore and tired. The memories of how Lorenzo plunged deeper into me last night filled my mind. He was so cruel to me. I didn't find any enjoyment in it at all. I tried lifting my hands and I was happy It was back to functioning. My tit hurts too as a result of the sucking he did last night.

One moved toward the entrance, another to the emergency exit and a third began opening cases, scanning through the valuables they had already gathered. Blade stepped down from the stage. Closer now. Raina’s breath hitched. Her grip on Aaron’s hand became desperate. “I said nobody gets hurt,” Blade said, voice low, as he walked past trembling guests. “But if one more person tests my patience… I’ll make an example.” The room seemed to hold its breath. Then Blade stopped… right in front of them. Raina couldn’t breathe. She felt the barrel of his stare even through the mask. He looked at Aaron, then at her, very slowly and calculated.

I’m not sure when I send the blade flying, but in one second my hand is empty. I vaguely hear the sound of metal cutting through the air. In the next second, It slices through candlelight, haze and history. Then— Impact. Not the clean, hollow plunge I rehearsed a hundred times in my head. There’s resistance. A sickening scrape. Metal meeting flesh, then bone. A sharp, strangled inhale. The blade does not sink where it should.

The "Reviewer’s Blade" was a weapon of absolute exclusion. It didn't cut through flesh; it cut through "Relevance." As the man in the hoodie pointed the silver-glass tip at Silas, the Alpha-Regent felt his very history—the three years of his regret, the sacrifice in the spire, the battle for the sun—being "De-prioritized." He was becoming a "Secondary Character" in his own story, his gold-and-sapphire skin turning to a dull, uninteresting grey.

i cursed under my breath. The next thing I saw was one of the blade flying towards me with a chain attached to its handle.Then time slowed to a snails pace. While the blade was flying towards me at slow motion i took some seconds to acess the blade.The blade was pure black in colour and it had uneven edges with the middle part of the blade having some indiscernible inscriptions sparkling orange color sparks.The chains on the handle of the blade seem to be connected to his wrist like Spiderman's web.And i don't know how he did that.I side stepped the blade only to find the other flying towards where i was.It was at this point that i knew that it wasn't just some child's play.This guy was real

The blade felt heavier in my hands than it should have, as though it carried the weight of every decision I was about to make. Its dark, jagged edge seemed to hum softly, a sound only I could hear, resonating in my chest like a second heartbeat. Every time I looked at it, the whispers grew louder—promises of power, freedom, and control. I was close to running mad, or so I felt. I didn’t tell Rigel or Selene what I was doing. This was my burden, my risk. I had waited until the others were asleep, the sparkling glow of our campfire masking the faint light that pulsed from the blade as I drew it from its sheath.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.