Vash X Knives Novels & Stories

“Hello again, Ice Queen.” Lucas gave her a warm smile. He was awfully dreamy with his blond hair and Aussie accent. It was a stark contrast to Nick ’s jet-black locks, which Vanessa preferred. “I hope you’re ready for today’s lesson.” He gestured toward the vast collection of swords, knives, crossbows, and other weaponry. “Honestly this is not my area of expertise.” Vanessa laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever used anything in this room. You really think I’ll have access to all these types of weapons in the middle of a real fight?”

“Aww, you think threatening me makes you a mighty giga chad, do you? I’ve been a member of the lawless underground society for more than ten years, and no one has ever dared wave a threat in my face! Are you happy that you’re the first? Now, come receive your reward!” Phantomknife unsheathed his snowy, shiny blades and pointed their tips at Javier. Cold glints bounced off their surface, making for a terrifying entrance, but little else happened, as Phantomknife never got to hit Javier with them. He felt a sharp pinch on his wrist and saw Javier’s silhouette get blurry. The next time his eyes focused, his shiny blades had changed hands. Javier was the one aiming the pointy bits at him now.

He was smiling. Wrong move. “Damien. Cassius.” Moses repeated the name like a slur. “That’s two Latin war crimes and a daddy complex in one breath.” Xavier rolled his shoulders, smoothing the lapels of his coat. “I was going to go with just ‘Xavier,’ but apparently I’m not allowed mystery anymore.” And that was when Mika moved. Six knives. Thrown in under three seconds. They hissed through the air with terrifying precision. One aimed at the jugular. One for the heart. Three at ribs, one at the top of the thigh.

Steven casually added. "Who are you?" almost indistinct, Lukas asks. His eyes together with the rest are still fixed on Vasili. "Does it matter who I am?" Vasili grimly mutters without looking at anyone but the floor. Looking for his blades. Confused, everyone watches him pulling out the sharps from their target. Wiping the blood on their clothes before returning them to the pockets of his leather belt. "Don't be confused about why you are still alive" he continues after collecting all his blades. His slow and steady steps echo amid the silence of the hall. And between the rubble of dead bodies. Careful not to step on the pool of blood spewed everywhere.

He introduced them one by one and she met each with the attention they deserved. Cain — scarred and direct, a man who communicated in the fewest possible words and seemed to consider this a philosophy rather than a limitation. Vasha — a poison specialist who announced herself with the brightness of someone who found this delightful conversation, her eyes moving over Nyma with quiet, professional assessment.

Intricate tribal tattoos swirled across his chest and down his arms, telling the story of a thousand battles. ‎ ‎In his right hand, he dragged a massive, curved blade, a falchion made of dull, dark iron. It carved a trench in the gravel as he walked. ‎ ‎The Butcher. ‎ ‎Vance was standing between the stranger and the car, his gun raised. But Vance was trembling so hard the weapon shook. ‎ ‎"Stop!" Vance screamed, his voice cracking. "This is a Bloodmoon transport! You are violating the—" ‎ ‎He didn't stop. He didn't even slow down.

“And you don’t have any spare weapons for us?” “And what would you do with it?” the twin smirked. “It takes years of training to use it properly.” “I understand… but it would make me feel more secure, morally.” “I can give you one of my hunting knives.” “Okay,” I said, gladly accepting the weapon. I had no idea how I would use it—or even if I would—but it made me feel calmer. Ogis handed his knife to Vasmiya, and tears welled up in her eyes, yet she composed herself and gripped the weapon firmly.

Skeleton taunted, slinging his alloy steel knife over his shoulder. "You think you can scare me with that peashooter?" Viper sneered, toying with the serpent draped across his shoulder. The air in the tavern was thick with tension, a spark away from the explosion.

I wish I could dissolve into the wall I leaned on. Their fight leads to Violet shoving the tray of nail paints, my mom bought. Among the shreds of glasses, I saw the pocket knife I bought out of a sense of security. A pocket knife with a wooden handler and purple colour nail paint smeared on it, just like the one sitting in one of the drawers of Bash's bedside table. *

His voice rose, spitting in her face and inching closer. "This is why we kill" In a split second, he dug the knife into her. Jade. And it took more than just a while to process what had just happened. I couldn't even believe as she fell into my arms. I looked into Fox's eyes full and dark with vengeance as his guys drew closer. And i opened my eyes sharply at the pain in my chest, the flashes overwhelmed my thinking that my heart began to race. And it was as if i could still hear the echoes. Her echoes.