Inanimate Insanity Knife X Suitcase Novels & Stories

Her body was not feeling ashamed of that prohibited action of her but her mind wasn't ready to accept it that how could she let it to happen? How could she let him to ruin her so willingly and desirably? How could she have desired and longed her tormentor and why his tormenting was feeling so soliciting? Inessa cried her heart out because she wasn't even feeling like breathing anymore after what she had just done. So she decided to do the first thing that had caught in her mind. She unburied her face from her knees and roamed her watery eyes around the entire room and her desperate eyes finally stopped at that knife stabbing on the fruits basket above the drawer.

The suitcase on the bed was small, discreet, black. Inside, there were no clothes. There was enough for a war: three extra magazines for the Nachtkönigin, a case of carbon steel blades, a first aid kit with bandages and coagulants, two thermal camouflage devices the size of cigarette packs, and the biodegradable bullets — green, translucent, lethal. Each one a poem of silent destruction. Each one, my signature. My body still vibrated with the memory of Aurora, her scent on my skin, her taste in my mouth. But the beast was being set aside. Now, the strategist was speaking.

"And Mendoza's standard arsenal, I'm guessing." Rick moved to her side and produced a key from a hidden compartment in the communications cabinet. The lock clicked open, revealing a compact but comprehensive collection of weapons, two handguns with extra magazines, a short-barreled shotgun, and various knives. "Iron blade," Rick noted, lifting a matte-black combat knife from its moulded slot. "Military grade, designed for anti-supernatural operations." Casie took it, testing the weight and balance. The handle fit her grip perfectly, and the blade absorbed rather than reflected the cabin's dim light. "This will help against the constructs."

I see a bloody man sitting on a rusted metallic chair. The man let's out a sardonic smile when his eyes land on me. "You sure a pretty thing should be tainted like this Kings?" He asks in mockery. Aiden doesn't say anything but walks to a corner that seems to hold some gadgets. I walk to the place to have a closer look at them just as Aiden passes me with something in his hand but I don't pay much mind to it. The first things I notice are knives. Three are serrated and two of them look blunt the other six, are of different shapes but sharp enough to cut through skin like butter. I take one of then and look at it. It's light to easily throw through air to a target. Next to the knives are nail

He stared at the fine Obsidian stone carved into a perfect knife with two smooth and sharp edges held by a red leather wrapped handle. He took the blade with him into the showers to wash off blood and get himself clean. walking out clad in a black sweat shirt and tracksuit pants, he closed the blade into a black wooden box which only he knew the combination to open its locks. He placed the box in his duffel bag zipping it securely.

OOOH, I'm hating him right now. Upon reaching the Rover, I punched him hard in the arm. “This hurts! That hurt, Ashima." Gritting my teeth, I replied, “No, it did not, you big baby!” Taking my suitcase out of the back, I grabbed my clothing. Black jeans, a t-shirt, a black leather jacket, and black knee-high boots complete the ensemble. There is a hidden pocket in my boots for a switch blade. A revolver is tucked away in my jacket.

What the fuck would happen if he completely lost his shit? “Steel,” Knives said, his voice chillingly calm, as he playfully flicked the knife around in his hand. “I think he’s uncomfortable like this? Why don’t we pick him up and tie him to that table instead?”

They are also both armed with wolfsbane filled dart guns, and 2 silver knives each. Ansel is wearing black cargo shorts, and a black tee shirt. He is armed with a set of silver throwing knifes, and a gun that shoots either deadmans blood or witches brew, depending on which one he loads into it. I am wearing knee high boots, loaded with throwing knives. A black skirt that is hiding 2 sets of throwing stars. A white tee shirt under my black leather jacket, which holds two small guns, one loaded with deadmans blood, the other with wolfsbane.

A message. “He doesn’t trust women,” the voice warned. “He kills them faster than men. Uses them, yes. Trusts them? Never.” I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. Good. I didn’t need trust. I needed proximity. “You’ll have three tools.” A small metal case slid out from a slot in the wall. I didn’t move to open it yet. “Blade in the heel. Poison in the lipstick. Garrote wire in the necklace.” Standard kit. I’d used them all before.

He says and looks at me, but I have no idea what he means. “Yes,” Elenor answers for me. “Rudy,” The man in the black suit says snapping his fingers and the man behind him, who I figure is Rudy props a metallic suitcase on the island counter. “Here you go boss,” Rudy says, his voice deep and gravelly. The one referred to as Boss presses his thumb to the suitcase and the lid pops open. Inside lay an array of gadgets of all different sizes and shapes. He unclips one from it’s place in the suitcase and holds it up to inspect it. It’s shaped like a gun, but with a more rounded barrel.