Fine Tooth Jigsaw Blade Novels & Stories

“Tell me more.” “A standard blade is either 1/2 inch or a full inch. You have to special order a 1/4 inch or get it from a certain brand. A 1/4 inch is more the size of a pocket knife or paring knife, none of which would make those marks.” “What does that tell us?” I was quiet for a moment. “Dad has a signature knife used for torture.” Cade nodded. “What else did you notice about the cuts?” “One side was jaggard, like it was a serrated, but not in a normal way. Almost like it is twisted. The other was straight, but at an angle.”

There were three more rolls on the shelf, and he took them all out. The knife roll contained five knives with different sized blades, some had serrated edges and others had odd hooks in them. One had an exceptionally long blade and had specks of old blood on it. James picked it up and it felt comfortable in his hand. He put it back immediately, it felt too comfortable.

“Us old folks appreciate whetting just as much as the young or maybe more. You ought to bring her up here to live, Bol. Think of the money you’d save on whetstones. “That knife would cut through a man’s naik like it was butter,” Pea Eye said. He had an appreciation of such things, bein the owner of a fine Bowie knife himself. It had a fourteen-inch blade and he had bought it from a soldier who ha personally commissioned it from Bowie. He didn’t sharpen it every night like Bol did his, but he took it out of its bi

Pale grain twists through the darker wood, and each handle ends in what looks like a carefully carved piece of bone. The blades themselves are stunning. Intricate patterns ripple through the metal, shimmering with iridescent waves left behind by the forging process. They’re works of art. I carefully lift one from its velvet-lined slot. It settles into my palm as though it was made specifically for my hand. Perfectly balanced. Perfectly weighted. Perfect. “Silver tips,” Lincoln says quietly as I hover my finger over the subtle change in metal near the point. I glance up at him, my fingers hovering over the silver tips. These are beautiful and lethal, designed by someone who knows exactly what

I said as I stood up again. I walked over to the steel cabinet and opened the doors. I took out my knife roll and placed it on the table where she’d be able to see the display. I took out my favourite Gerber knife and turned it around in my hand. It had a fixed blade, not that I had anything against folded blades, but cleaning it afterwards sucked. In my personal opinion the fixed blade was stronger when separating a joint and getting into those tough spots and cutting through sinew and muscle. The blade wasn’t long but it was sharp and did what I needed it to do.

The pencil has a sharp silver blade at the other end and it was designed specially because of my former small, weak pack. “Ouch!” I faked a groan to attract the guard’s attention.

The blade is serrated, and I notice three notches missing as I bend down closer to look at it. “Fucking shit.” I mutter. “What?” a healer asks. “Serrated. And it’s damaged.” My heart sinks, thinking there may be loose silver pieces lingering in his now gushing neck wound. He takes his gloved hand and grabs the blade, moving closer to the light to get a better look at it.

"I like this style one can stab and cut." Lord Nian gave Zinjo's partisan the once over, "This blade tells the tales of your victories and your families victories, does it not?" He ran his thumb over the edge, "How do you keep the blade so sharp?" "My father bestowed our oldest weapon to me when I came of age. I sharpen it with a clear stone." He reached into his pocket and produced an uncut diamond, "I use this to sharpen the blade, and it never fails."

She yells in despair. I thought about it a moment and looked at Aris. "Pass it over to me so I can take a good look at it." Aris walked to where Tabitha stood and picked up the dagger carefully and brought it back to me. I picked it up and turned it around by its hilt. The details were unbelievable, agate, obsidian, and fluorite was mixed like marble and gold looked like it was placed as if a larger time like the blade itself, it wasn't too heavy in my small hands, and something inside the dagger called out to me, I didn't want to give it back.

“To create viable evidence.” “No,” I shake my head. This is a custom-made, one of a kind blade with only two others in circulation and he expects me to just leave it here? A two thousand one hundred dollar blade? No way, I would rather do time and snuggle it in. “I’m not leaving it here.” I tell him, “Use yours.” “Mine is a different make, Ale.” Alessio sighs. “How the hell did you even get that one?” I shrug, “I know a guy.”