Cut The Tension With A Knife Novels & Stories

Kaden asked, as he reached for the knife from the elder. I shook my head quickly. “No. I want to go first.” He raised a brow, probably surprised, but didn’t say anything. He handed the knife to me and held out his palm. I looked at his hand, held the knife tightly, and without thinking twice, I made the cut. It wasn’t a soft cut and I pressed harder than I needed to. The knife sliced deep into his skin, and I saw his hand twitch in pain. He gritted his teeth as the blood quickly flowed from the cut.

They keep arguing in voices carrying, “How can I trust you to keep her away forever, Zayne might find her again, but not if she’s dead her scent will die with her” “How to get to that knife without dragging attention to me, I inch sideways, using my knees until the knife is between both knees, I lean slightly, my fingers patting blindly on the blankets until my fingers meet the hard handle of the blade. I keep my face calm, my eyes on them as I turn it in my hand holding the blade upwards and begin to saw through the roap. Going as slow as I can so I don’t nick myself with the poisoned blade, they will scent the blood or worse I might pass out again.

“Does it hurt?” “Yes–” “Good.” Another thrust has me screaming, gripping the sheets as he fucks me hard and fast, using me like a toy. He rises up over me, his face obscured by shadows, and uses the knife to cut through my shirt, tearing it off my body and tossing it across the room as he pumps into me. He slams the knife down into the bed next to me, piercing the mattress. His hands rest on my breasts, squeezing them as he grinds his hips into mine until I’m babbling incoherently, the tension in my lower belly screaming for release.

“Don’t come any closer!” The woman’s voice rings with a mix of desperation and threat. She grips my shoulder tightly, her sweaty hand trembling slightly, while the other holds the knife against my neck. The cold metal brushes against my skin, and my breath becomes shallow, controlled, trying to avoid any movement that could make the blade sink deeper.

The heavy knife in the burly man’s hands was cut open like it was tofu; the incision was hauntingly tidy. “How’s that possible?!” blurted the burly man. Fane took advantage of the situation and pulled his sword back, only to cut open the man’s head. There was a daunting fountain of blood from the dead man’s body, and the man rolled down the hill.

I walk over to the cart and drop the mallet on top before grabbing a knife made of silver. "He is the head warrior." Tooth less moans as his head falls forward again before he quickly jerks it back up. "Does he have more information than your peasant ass does?" I ponder as I stalk towards him. I place the blade on one side of his testicles and flick the knife to cause a small cut into his sack. He doesn't make a sound this time only gasps and begins coughing. The tears have stopped, probably from dehydration, and he chokes on a scream.

No amount of water, ice, or aloe vera would be able to soothe it until the poison worked its way through my system. She touched the edge of the knife to my neck; a sizzling sound came from the touch. It sounded like a hot plate of fajitas. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. I could feel her making the first slice of her H. Within thirty seconds, she was done with the first letter. I tried not to think about it. I brought my knuckle up to my teeth and bit down as she worked on the second letter. “All done.” She pulled away and looked at her handiwork.

- Give it to me. - Ok, ok. But remember, the kiwis and the mango. Only. No fingers. No blood. Ok? My heart wouldn’t take it. – He handed me the knife and put both hands together as if he were pleading for it. – Please. - Get out of here, smarty pants. – I said pushing him away with my hips and he laughed out loudly. - Of course I am not going to cut myself. I’m a master on this… fruity slicing mastery.

I'm sure the latter was the case. I noticed the tension between them this morning at breakfast but chose not to comment to see how far they could go. Finally, Avery snapped and threw a butter knife he got from God knows where, and it landed on the table, inches from Kane’s hand. “If you look at me one more time I’ll shove this knife into your eyes,” Avery said with his voice low. Kane’s jaw clenched. His hand twitched near the knife’s handle, but he didn’t grab it. His eyes burned holes through Avery instead.

The moment she heard the commotion, she stood up. Without a proper examination, she glanced at me and declared, "I'm an OB-GYN! We have to perform an emergency C-section immediately, or the baby could suffocate!" With no disinfection or sterilization, she took a paring knife and sliced open my belly. Blood gushed out, drenching everything around me. Even though my eyes were closed and my body was unresponsive, I was fully conscious—I felt every bit of the pain. I felt her hands digging around inside my abdomen. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out.