Young Dagger Romane & Geschichten

Soon she felt a firm material right above her ankle. She snapped open her eyes and saw him clasping that dagger sheath at her crus. She didn't know what he was trying to do but better knew than defying him. After clasping the sheath securely Ryker tucked the dagger in it. The dagger has in his name with his date of birth carved on it as: Ryker Verlice 28.09.1994

I walked behind them through the dark corridors of the cellars, stopping around a corner when they stopped in front of the metal door that once held I and Jhamal prisoners. It was only when the was pushed open that I lunged forward, I was fast, heart racing my body quicker as I rolled over between both men, my hand snatching the dagger from Jafarr’s side holster at the same time I grabbed the club from the ground, taking a successful swing against Jafarr’s skull. The old councilman fell stiffly to the ground and I sized up Ryker who had a shocked look on his face, silver eyes finding mine but I had already jumped at him, dagger in my hand plunging into his shoulder.

Seemed like metal. A dagger!

All that could be seen was the short weapon slashing a ray of light through the air, constricting the air as it passed. F*ck, what a piece of sh*t… Darry did not panic in the slightest at the sight of Great Elder coming close, his anger flaring up for good this time. He had actually considered sparing him, but it seemed like he had been too kind. Darryl stood right there, waiting for the dagger to come with no intention of ducking. Ha ha… Great Elder smiled to himself at the sight, nothing but excited. This mysterious elite was quite the idiot, not dodging at all. He thought he would be able to block the blow with his body, but Great Elder's dagger was welded from the strongest of metals and

What more could she possibly want with me? Good God, I just want to go home…to my new home…in peace. Jiya came so close that our chests were inches apart. She leaned in to whisper in my ear, her voice chilling, “You won that round, but you’ll lose the next. Watch how I get Valen to come.” Before I got her meaning, Jiya pulled out a silver dagger from her pants pocket and sliced a nasty gash across her own abdomen. A shrieking gasp tore from Jiya's as she folded over, and the fallen blade clattered against the concrete. Then she collapsed to the ground, making it look like I’d stabbed her.

Vanya’s eyes widen, and she starts bawling even louder. “Please, Alpha Kai! Anything but that wretched thing! Please, torture me daily, rip out my heart or permit me to atone with the Blood Eagle! Just please….anything ANYTHING BUT THAT DAGGER!” She sobs, looking at the obsidian thrown together dagger in Kai’s hand. That fucking Nephilim dagger - I had to pretend all was well as I sat with it in the SUV. That thing…is fucking death incarnate. My brother smirks and shakes his head. “As I said; atone for your sins in death, Vanya-”

I sat up gingerly, weeping in relief. On my knees with my arms extended, I groped for the door. My knee touched something cold. I shrank back and directed my gaze downwards. Dante lay there with his throat slit, his eyes open in a fixed stare. Yelling and cursing, I scooted backward. Another figure I recognized as myself materialized out of the shadows. It held my silver dagger and stared down at something on the floor.

The dagger was black, and it pulsed with ancient power. A guard seized Lena's wrist and pulled it forward. Lena resisted against him. He tightened his grip on her arm. The dagger touched her skin, and it was cold. Then pain went through her as the blade cut through her flesh. Lena gasped as her blood spilled into a bowl, and steam rose from the bowl as her blood met the night air. The pain was sharp, but worse than the pain was the fire that followed. That fire was dark and twisting, and it moved through her veins.

"That sword's too heavy. You take this. Light. Fast. Angle's different when you're going for lungs instead of heart. Blade goes up, extra half-inch of tilt. Don't use it backwards." I picked up the dagger. The leather was still warm from his palm, the weight of it settling into my grip like it belonged there. I slipped it into the sheath on my right side, opposite the scalpel. "Give me the egg. The burnt one." His mouth split into a rough grin. He forked the charred egg onto my plate and swallowed the raw one himself in a single, wet gulp. His amber eyes narrowed in the morning light, that deep, feral gold pulsing in the depths of his pupils.

I didn’t back away. Instead, I pulled out the silver dagger Jessica made for me. It gleamed coldly in my hand. The moment I felt its weight, something in me steadied. “Come on,” I muttered under my breath. As it leapt, I sidestepped and drove the dagger straight into its throat. The blade slid through flesh like it was made for this exact purpose. The silver hissed the moment it touched blood, burning through it. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air.