Chainsaw Cutting Crooked Novels & Stories

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.

But the man neglect her cries, and settled on what she feared the most— a saw. [Fun Fact: A chainsaw (or chain saw[1]) is a portable gasoline-, electric-, or battery-powered saw that cuts with a set of teeth attached to a rotating chain driven along a guide bar. It is used in activities such as tree felling, liming, bucking, pruning, cutting firebreaks in wild land fire suppression, and harvesting of firewood. Chainsaws with specially designed bar-and-chain combinations have been developed as tools for use in chainsaw art and chainsaw mills. Specialized chainsaws are used for cutting concrete during construction developments (Wiki, 1997)]

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.

Nick says picking up the brittle looking cutters. He walked back to Nick and held them up. “These are not very sharp, but I think we can get them to work.” Nick takes them and tries to open the cutters. He barely got them loose and started to walk back to the truck for some wd-40. He sprayed the cutters and grabbed a knife sharpener. Once the cutters moved freely he started to sharpen the blades.

The sharp blade glistened in the moonlight, splitting the trunk as it went. The Ormr Dagger was inches away from Max after slicing through the tree trunk like soft cheese, who had no way of evading the attack. Right in the nick of time, Beggar King yanked Max sideways and hurriedly retreated. “Back off! We’ll have to tie him up with metal chains. He’s gone crazy!”

She turned briefly to say, "Sometimes, female charm is needed if you want to bring an asshole down." He chuckled. "And you just said that to me. Aren't you scared I will tell him?" She took a step towards him and leaned over. "Do you know how to mince meat if you don't have a grinder?" "No." His brows shot up. Why was this suddenly about meat? She leaned closer. "You place the meat on the chop board and use an extremely sharp knife to cut thin streaks at a forty-five degree angle, not all the way down, then you flip it and repeat."