Novel & Cerita Bloody Knife Drawing

No expression showed on her face as she sliced her skin to allow a shallow pool of blood to form in her palm. Ari wiped the blade clean on the heel of her hand before putting it away again. With her free hand, she dipped her fingers in the puddle of blood. She brought her hand up to her own forehead. She made two horizontal marks. Another dip of her fingers in the blood and she drew a line bisecting the other two.

Sara stretched her claws and pointed its tip to her chest. She pushed firmly and the blade stabbed her skin. The dark blood poured in the wound and mixed with Sara's body leaving a black mark. 'Again!' She took out the saber and dipped it in the cask and then she stabbed her chest again. As she repeated the process, a figure began to appear on her body. Sara took two hours to complete the drawing and when it was over it covered her entire right chest area and a half of her shoulder, as for the pain she felt during the process, it didn't even make her tremble.

Instead, I stared at her with a blank, relaxed expression. Raising my hand, I grabbed her wrist. I squeezed just hard enough to make her bones groan. She gasped, letting go of the weapon. Reaching up with my free hand, I gripped the hilt of the dagger. I pulled the silver blade out of my own neck with a slow, deliberate motion. A thick stream of dark blood cascaded down my collar, soaking into my velvet jacket. Tossing the bloody knife onto the floor, I let the wound knit itself back together. Within seconds, the torn flesh sealed shut.

As I bent down to pick it up, I realised it had fallen open to a specific page. The illustration staring back at me held me in place like a beast with its claws in my chest. It was a drawing of a monster with long, dried-up black hair, claw-like nails, and prominent fangs. Below the drawing was a single red drop of blood, as if it were dripping from the fangs. I narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher the ancient, jagged writing that surrounded the drawing:

Within minutes, her hundreds of thousands of followers flooded the post with angry comments. I watched as Ruby picked up a craft knife. Gritting her teeth, she lightly made a small cut. Blood flowed from the shallow wound. However, it stopped bleeding quickly. Seeing it wasn't dramatic enough, she picked up the craft knife again and carefully traced over the wound, deepening it.

The horrific thing about the card was that there were two here figures, drawn in a childish hand. Two male figures in crude shirts and tuxes stood on either side of a fat, balloon-like woman figure in the centre. The trio were supposedly holding hands. But what made the rather childish drawing so macabre was the horror. What was terrifying was the face of the female in the centre. The crude drawing of the woman’s face had been scored off with a thick black marker, creating a cross. But what made Bianca gasp aloud, was the bright red slash across the stomach of the woman’s figure.

“Please, I have a family—” I pulled my knife from its sheath, the blade glinting under the flashing club lights. “So did I,” I said, pressing the tip just below his collarbone. His entire body trembled. “I’ll disappear,” he choked out. “I swear. I’ll leave the city. You’ll never see me again.” I tilted my head, considering it. Then I dragged the knife down, slow and deliberate, carving into his flesh. His scream tore through the room, raw and agonized, but I didn’t stop. I cut deeper, forming each letter with the same precision I used when slicing through my enemies. Blood poured down his chest, pooling at his waist, staining his expensive suit.

he's theirs to kill. Drexton kept the extra two pictures he had come to keep, Lorraine and Bonnie. He picked up two knives and buried one knife in between their eyes. Using another knife, he cut his wrist, his blood smeared on the knife. He kept the knife and raised his hand above their pictures, letting his blood drop on the pictures. He felt satisfied seeing the blood that was on the sides of their faces. They look good that way, and he was going to make sure they got that look.

“This is fucking insane, what were you doing with this?” My attention moved to Ralph who was holding a small knife—the blade he usually carries. I guess it was a type of sculpturing blade or something. But what had my eyes widening was the few red drops clinging to the metal. It wouldn’t take any genius to recognise it as blood. It shouldn’t be a surprise, but I couldn’t help but be both surprised and scared.

It’s exactly what I need. I stalk through the house, my knife glintin' in the dim light as I slice through skin and bone with a kind of vicious joy. One man tries to run, but I’m faster. I grab him by the hair, yankin' him back, and carve a line across his throat. He drops like a ragdoll, his blood poolin' at my feet.