First Cut Is The Deepest Novels & Stories

Crash! It was too late when he realized what he’d done. The tricks and manipulation that's been implanted to him accompanied him as he tried to remember why he tried to escape his building from the 20th floor. But as the ground rapidly came closer to Alana to welcome him to a new realm of fire he’s never seen before, it only then clicked. For a split second, he was almost sure that Caine’s face was down on the ground like a summer waiting for the cold fall. The moment he flatlined was the moment his entire body met the ground flat. No last expressions in his face, no rigor mortis, just his red and white painted in the streets.

“What I want is you.” The first cut was shallow, a line across his chest. Just enough to hurt, just enough to remind him that his body belonged to me now. He screamed. I kept cutting. Twenty minutes later, he had stopped screaming. He just hung there, twitching, making small animal sounds that no longer resembled human language. I had been methodical, precise, every cut deliberate. I was reaching for a different tool when my sleeve brushed against something cold.

They were too strong for me. Suddenly my eyeslids were too heavy for me to keep open. Black spots clouded my vision and little by little it got darker and the eyelids heavier. That's when I let the darkness consume me sending me into it's deepest tunnels hoping that it keeps me there for the longest time ever. The end.... 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all",- Alfred Lord Tennyson. A million words would not bring you back, I know because I tried, neither would a million tears, I know because I cried.",- STEPHEN CHBOSKY

I muttered immediately. But another cramp hit and I knew I had no choice. I grabbed the knife reluctantly, staring at it for a few seconds longer than necessary. I had been injured before. I had fought before. But this felt different somehow. Because this injury would be intentional. I inhaled once before dragging the blade lightly across my palm. Pain burned instantly through my skin. “Shit,” I hissed quietly, gripping my wrist immediately. The cut wasn’t deep but it was enough. Blood slid slowly down my hand and I swallowed hard, already regretting it.

He smiles, it's a cold, cruel smile, the smile of a man who enjoys what he's doing. "I was hoping you'd say that," he says. "I've been looking forward to this." --- The first cut is across my chest. I feel it, the sharp sting of the blade, the warm trickle of blood, but I don't scream, I won't give him the satisfaction, I won't let him win. "Where is she?" "Fuck... you..." The second cut is across my stomach. "You're going to have to do better than that." The third cut is across my back.

With that, Alec puts the blade to my arm in the same spot and digs it into my skin, causing me to scream out in pain. I watch as a single tear falls from Alec’s eye and the light disappears from them. And that was how the tally system was born.

Her fingers slipped. A sharp stab of pain cut through the daydream. She let out a muffled cry and pulled her hand back. A thin line of scarlet blood welled up from her thumb, where the skin had met the sharp grater. She had cut herself. She, Savanah Phillips, who handled razor-sharp chef's knives like extensions of her own fingers, had cut herself on a grater due to distraction.

Morning came with a pale light that bled across the velvet drapes, casting my chamber in cold silver. I lay awake long before my maid arrived, tracing the plan in my mind. Revenge wasn’t one great blow not at the start. The first strike was always small, almost invisible. Like the first cut in a silk gown, it went unnoticed until the whole thing unraveled in your hands. I rose from bed and crossed to my vanity. My reflection stared back unmarked, flawless. Not the bloodied woman gasping her last on the cold marble floor ten years from now.

I said exasperated. " You need to know what it's not just about how fast you do this or how strong, it's about skill and the precision of your slashes and cuts." He said and places his hand on a part of my neck, " Cut here and the attacker will be blessed out and die in less than five minutes." he moves his hand to a different place," here and he will die immediately ". And lower, " He would die in less than ten minutes," he said " Oh," I said

I gasp at the stretch. He starts fucking me—long, deep strokes that make my eyes roll back. Then the blade returns, cool metal pressing over my heart. The first cut is sharp. Pain blooms instantly, bright and blinding, mixing with the devastating pleasure of his cock slamming into me. I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. He grunts with every thrust, hips snapping harder as he slowly carves his initial, an R, into my skin right above my heart.