Novel & Cerita Heartbeats Knife

He looks at us and begs for help, but no one does anything. Beckam holds out his hand to his companion and he hands him a knife. She rams it into the guy's back and he screams. I watch as she moves it back and forth. The guy cries. Until he falls unconscious to the ground. Beckam returns the bloody knife and magically he doesn't have a drop staining it. How did he do? I dont know. He leaves the guy bleeding to death on the floor and goes into the living room. His companion is the one who passes the knife through the man's neck and blood like waterfalls comes out of him. Well, it's my time to look elsewhere.

he said. With all those words coming from Harlem’s lips, Aurelie doesn’t know what he meant with all that. Is there something Harlem’s keeping between him and Reiyu only? But, why? “There’s one time she was alone in the BROS studio and I witnessed her crying. I wasn’t supposed to interfere with her business, but I accidentally saw the slash marks on her left inner wrist,” Harlem explained. “Oh my god. When did this happen?” Aurelie couldn’t help but worry so much.

The sound echoed through the warehouse, and I knew Serena had to have heard it. My breath came in ragged gulps, my heart pounding like a jackhammer in my chest as I searched Caleb’s body frantically for another weapon. My fingers landed on the handle of a small hunting knife in his back pocket, and I pulled it out. It gleamed like Excalibur in the dim light.

I let him think he’s winning, let him believe he has me cornered, until he overcommits. The moment he shifts his weight too far forward, I strike. Grabbing my second knife, hidden under the covers and drive it upward, deep into his side. He lets out a strangled gasp, staggering back. But he’s not done. With a roar, he lunges again, tackling me. We slam into the floor, his weight crushing me. His hands wrap around my throat, squeezing. Stars burst behind my eyes, my lungs scream for air. No. I slam my knee into his stomach. His grip loosens just enough for me to yank my knife from his side and with a fierce cry, I plunge it into his chest. Right into his black, dead heart.

Moving the hand she kept behind in front, she revealed the fruit knife she was holding and did not hesitate to plunge it into his chest. "Die, Henry Barnes!"

While his back is turned to me, I move. I spring off the bed, the knife in my hand. Before I can think, before I can let him react, I stab him. I’m worried about hitting his ribs. So I go for the lower right quadrant. He’s muscular, and for a split second I’m worried about the amount of force that I applied, until I feel the knife push into his muscles. I pull it out quickly, stabbing in where I can tell. Kidneys. Liver. I get in two stabs before he spins, roaring. “You bitch!” he screams.

In my life, I had always restrained myself, no matter how angry I was. I staunchly believed that inflicting pain on others was an unforgivable act. Yet, in a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting, I found myself betraying my own principles. For the first time, I plunged a short, 20 cm military knife into Scarlet's abdomen. The blade slid effortlessly, fully embedding itself, as blood began to seep, staining her naked skin and the white bed sheet beneath.

They seemed inseparable. My heart was torn apart as pain hit me in broken pieces. One was my husband of two years, and the other was my best friend since college years. Hudson had been born with a heart condition. He now had the heart of Quincey's boyfriend, Maverick Goldstein, who had died in a car crash. After the surgery, Hudson insisted he was Maverick. I forced a smile and set a container of healthy food on the table next to the hospital bed. "Quincey, I spent three hours making this food. Make sure Hudson eats it."

His eyes showed a mix of anger and confusion. I yanked the knife out from his neck, splattering blood onto myself, but I didn’t care. He began to cough up blood and convulsed on the ground. I pressed the sharp end of the knife against his chest and slowly drove it into his heart, watching his eyes widen with pain. Soon, I heard a small crack, and his heartbeat stopped, his body going still. I twisted the knife deeper. "Valentina," Lorenzo groaned. I quickly stood up and checked him over. He didn't have any serious injuries, just a bad beating.