Chainsaw Cutting Crooked Novels & Stories

There was nothing nearby to use, and I was about to give up. “Fuck!” I groaned. Then I turned around and saw butchering tools hung on the wall. I noticed a saw with its mouth facing outward. I did not need to be told twice. I immediately stood up and walked towards it. I could hurt myself, but it was that or have my holes plunged tonight and then be killed. I placed the rope on the saw’s mouth and then moved my hand up and down for a few minutes. I did not realize the rope had snapped until I was cut by the saw. But I didn’t care. It was only a minor slash.

Ana said. I did what I was told and said sorry. I started at the bottom of the trees, and they were falling in all directions. I just focused and made my disk go back and forth making sure the trees were not going to fall on me. Moving the disk as fast as I could muster. It wasn’t nice and neat, it was a cluster fuck, because two trees caught on each other and started to fall toward me. I make a zig zag pattern hoping to cut them before they land on my head. The two trees fell off to the side, but the tree behind me bounced off a non-cut tree and now was falling fast towards me. I whip around and fling my disk at the tree cutting as much of it before it crashed on my head. Two pieces hit me

Focus. I feinted to the side, then twisted low, aiming a slash at his Achilles tendon. He anticipated it, stepping back at the last second and slamming the machete’s handle into my jaw. Pain exploded in my head. I reeled back, disoriented, just in time for his fist to connect with my ribs again. This time, something cracked. I gasped, falling to my knees. He towered over me, raising his machete high. I threw myself backward just as the blade came down, skimming my thigh and slicing deep.

But the blade didn't slide through the soft wood, only the butt hit the target instead of the edge. A moment of silence swept the space. Disappointed in herself and scared at the same time since her teacher will probably scold her, Mxaine bit her lower lip and shut her eyes. 'Darn it!' she shouted inwardly. She was so ready to hear Dwight’s complaint. She was used to hearing his nags. Maxine planned to let it in through her right ear and out of her left. But… "I told you that you shouldn't firmly grip the blade because it will hamper your release and the knife will fly out of your hand prematurely," Dwight said with a sweet baritone voice.

Both of them yelled at her. “I’m sorry, I can’t do anything if she has become like this.” Cakra sighed. Cakra spins his scythe and swings it sidewards emitting the grand fire to the duo’s direction Varz unsheathes his sword and swings it to the front splitting the fire into two and dashes to her direction.

The tree was huge with its long spread-out branches, so it was easy to navigate my way while finding a steady branch to sit on. I finally found one and perched myself on it. As per Cora's advice, I looked for thick-sized twigs and began to cut them off the tree, and when I got a reasonable amount, I took out the dagger and began to sharpen the edge so it could be pointed. I did that for all the big twigs. They were a bit short but still thick, and with how I worked on the top, they could cause quite a degree of injury if I could get it in an adversary.

I could feel the tightness of a light burn on my skin, and didn't want to exacerbate it. Halfway through taking care of the wayward branch, and a few of its buddies, I found Dan working his way up the trail behind me, his weed-whacker announcing his presence before he got to me. He was trimming back the sorry excuse for a road, occasionally taking his machete to any bigger stuff extending out over the 10 foot wide set of twin dirt ruts. I had the branch cleared out and was cutting it to size, once more creating a wood stack that we could fetch later, when he finally got to me. He shut down the noisy gas tool, and took a breather.

I tried for the first clean cut around the middle, the way I had watched a chef do on a cooking show once. It was a disaster. Instead of one clean line, the knife went deeper into the skin and created an uneven, deep cut. I tried again but this time, I pushed too hard and the blade slipped, digging into the skin. I shut my eyes as the juice sprayed onto the white tablecloth. I pulled the knife out and tried again, trying to make the next cut neater but this time, I pressed too gently so the knife slipped entirely, missing the fruit. Then my hand shook and I ended up with a mess of grape fruit insides and a badly sliced fruit, completely destroyed.

Without a second thought, he lifted the knife and hurled it straight at her. Cathrine’s eyes widened as the blade came speeding toward her, the metallic glint catching the light as it hurtled in her direction. With a swift, instinctive move, she dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the weapon. The knife missed her by a hair’s breadth but not without consequence—she felt the sharp edge of the blade skim her hair, slicing through the tips. Strands of her hair floated to the ground, severed by the close call.

It had been done quickly, efficiently, without hesitation. The next images are Rosa. Different setting. Different scale. Same hand. My jaw tightens slightly as I study the details more closely. “Same blade,” Enzo says, watching me. “Narrow edge. Single-sided.” I tilt the photo slightly, tracing the line of the wound with my eyes, not just the cut itself but the angle of it, the direction it travels across the skin. “No hesitation,” I say. “The cut is direct. No adjustment marks.” Enzo nods.