Banter Knife Novels & Stories

Too small. I look at the other weapons, well, more like knives. We have kitchen knife, cleaver knife, carving knife, santoku knife, paring knife, then tomato knife, then a fork. not your normal fancy fork, No, a two way fork. Lastly, my personal favourite, chain saw machine, all coated with silver, than touched with silver sulfide.

It's practical for jobs like this, flexible enough for quick movements, tight enough to conceal the tools of my trade without restricting a sudden draw or twist. The romper's zipper runs low, exposing just enough cleavage to distract if needed, but tonight it's all about efficiency, not seduction. The knives at my waist shift with each deliberate step I take two slim throwing blades, balanced perfectly for a mid-air spin that could pin a fly to a wall from twenty feet, and one serrated beast for when things get up close and messy, the kind that tears flesh more than it slices clean. They click faintly against my hips, a rhythmic, almost comforting reminder that I'm always armed, always ready

Another set of cuffs locks my ankles into place. "Do you know what this bench is?" his breath hot against my bare back. "No, Master," I whisper, my eyes glued to the people below, praying they don't look up and see my face or breasts. I catch sight of Banks reaching for something "It's called a restraint bench," he explains, and I gasp as I feel the freezing, sharp edge of a steel knife trailing slowly down my spine. My body muscles trembles, I look at the mirror. It's a small steel knife.

The banquet served not only as a social gathering but as a strategic display of power and dominance. In the present, Vincenzo stood from his chair, the weight of the previous night's success still fresh in his mind. He moved to a display case in his office, his eyes falling on a dagger that had been a part of his life since childhood. It was a beautifully crafted weapon, its blade gleaming with a deadly edge, the hilt inlaid with intricate designs.

"I am one of the investors planning to cooperate with their company. We witnessed the entire incident firsthand. At the banquet, Ms. Hardings didn't engage in workplace bullying. On the contrary, it was her husband, Kenneth, colluding with this mistress, who repeatedly bullied her. "And at the banquet, this woman herself admitted that the meatballs were made by her own hands. She even said proudly that she learned to make them specifically to entertain us." That single statement sent shockwaves through the crowd. "What? That really happened?" "So she was playing the victim after stabbing someone in the back? How shameless! Then again, if she's already someone's mistress, why would she care a

Nobody knew him and time was all his in the world to find his quarry. The next thing he did was to secure a weapon. It wasn’t hard to buy a Beretta semi-automatic with a silencer from one of the shops. It was small and easy to handle. After going around the shops for the things he needed he rested. It was already dark when he settled himself. He sat on a chair, looking at the shapes in his hotel room: the desk, with his passport and gun which lay side by side; the empty wardrobe and chests of drawers; his traveling bag; and the pile of clothes he brought with him.

His eyes wandered to the pen knife that his brother was holding. “Is that the weapon you brought?” “Yes,” Zayn lowered his eyes to the thing in between his fingers and explained, “This pen knife was made out of silver and dipped in Growsbane. You should know that it is more than enough to take away your life if I desire it.”

“Do you still have the ankle holster?” “Yes, but I can’t take your Ka-Bar.” “Why not?” He bent and rolled up her pant leg. “Because if I lose it...” Chantal reached out and tried to stop him. “Gage—you said it yourself—it’s your most prized—” “No. You’re my most prized… well, not possession. Treasure.” He slipped the knife into its new home and fiddled with the Velcro strap. “The Ka-Bar is large, but it will hold.”

They were cold against my palms, the weight grounding me. I moved to the weapons rack. A row of knives and blades. Batons lined the wall. My hand hovered, then settled on a serrated knife with a silver edge. The blade was long enough to cut through enhanced skin if it had to. I tested its balance. I flipped it in my hand. I felt the pull of gravity against it. Perfect.

Infront of me , on my lap , five throwing knives lay on the rough material being held in place by little rubber bands attached to the fabric . My eyes lit up when I seen the colour . They were turquoise. A big smile instantly appeared on my face as I admired the knives , that each one , slowly got smaller as my eyes ran across them . I touched the edge of the knife , getting a little paper cut . The knives were really sharp , and I could see symbol on the knives . It was an Ace symbol . It was small and simplistic but I really liked it.