Inanimate Insanity Microphone X Knife Novels & Stories

Ximena's POV I smiled to myself, reaching into my bag and retrieving the knife I had taken from the kitchen two days ago. Hudson turned to open the door on his side. "Silence is golden, Hudson Miles Lucas," I declared, brandishing the knife in a menacing manner. “And what the fuck… holy shit! What are you doing with that?” he exclaimed, almost flying out of the car as his back slammed the door. “I’m about to slice you into sellable pieces. Where should I start from?” I asked, inching the knife closer to him.

visual. Micah stepped closer to them. "Were you excited to put your tongue on her skin? Hear her human moans and cries in your ears? Feel her writhing underneath you?" He asked out loud, walking around the three demons. I looked down in embarrassment. "Adrian. I might have a better idea of what to cut off next." Micah loudly announced. I looked up and saw Micah holding the knife in front of their pants, where a bulge was very visible. I cringed back.

At least they wouldn't see the bloodbath that was about to take place. "Who the fuck are you ?" One of the men with a star tattoo on his bald head asked as he pulled out his gun. Too bad, in this case, knives were faster than guns and I brought plenty of those. Before he even had the chance to turn off the safety of his gun, my knife was sticking out of his right eye. I wasted no time pulling out another knife from my vest and throwing it straight into the Hearts of the other three. Mateo and Remy squirmed like worms and landed on the floor. Even if they screamed for eternity, no one would hear because the music was louder than their screams.

This place is not for her. "Give me the microphone." They handed me a Bluetooth microphone that you can connect to a speaker. I checked it first. "Hello? Mike test. Oh, cool. This is working." Laughs from the men filled the air. I glared at them. "What's so funny? Stop or I'll kill all of you." Silence filled the air. It was better than creepy boys laughing in front of a girl's house. We are not here to mess with her. I grabbed my gun and pulled the trigger three times.

“Now it’s just you and me. And I don’t play the same way Maddox does.” He set the knife on the table, slow and deliberate, before pulling a small, battered tin from his pocket. He opened it with a soft click — inside were thin metal tools, some rusted with age, others gleaming sharp. He laid them out one by one, the sound echoing in the concrete room like a ritual.

The ceramic blade began to sink into the empty air. Inch by inch, the razor-sharp edge cut directly through the frequency of the barrier. The amber light illuminating the spherical room began to flicker violently, the images in the millions of mirrors distorting into jagged, terrifying digital glitches. Silas’s face melted into a horrific smear of grey pixels. Luciano’s mafia ghost vanished into a cloud of static. "The bread only rises if you let it breathe," I whispered through my grit teeth. The tip of the blade finally touched the solid glass of the cylinder.

Above the photo, in ridiculous bubble letters: “Surviving the Madness—One Mug at a Time.” I laugh, harder than I mean to. “You did not.” “We absolutely did,” Parker grins. “It was this or matching tattoos.” “We’re still doing those,” Trixie adds. “You can’t stop us.” Before I can protest, Sonia and Michael step up, holding a sleek black box. Sonia opens it with a dramatic flair that screams assassin on holiday. Inside lies a beautiful dagger. Silver blade, perfectly balanced. Etched along the flat side are the words:

For the next hour, we worked in silence. Luca laid out gloves, gauze, and antiseptic. Matteo prepped an old generator. Ricardo wiped dust from equipment, carefully reading labels. “This vitals monitor’s ancient,” Luca muttered. “Still works,” Luciano replied. “We won’t need anything fancy. Just be cautious.” He opened a hard metal case, revealing a strange device shaped like a scalpel with metallic wiring coiled inside. “That’s the extractor?” I asked. Luciano nodded. “A custom microblade. Coded to trigger the failsafe sequence embedded in your implant without scrambling your neurons.”

Disclaimer: hideous and bloody scene ahead. Mike Huxley twisted the device repeatedly as if he were drilling a well in Aiden Chess' head. Repeatedly, he'll pull it out, taking each bone that falls from it and sucking out the blood before throwing the piece to the ground. Eventually, a big hole was visible in Aiden's head. Mike proceeded to pick out a shimmering, sharp knife about ten meters long. He turns the knife around. Each time the rays from the sun hit it, it creates contrast light.

Ping didn't say much, after throwing the knife somewhere, where it was kicked by his people like a soccer ball. They made fun of it, laughing crazy because it was blooded. RiVi doesn't know who's insane there, the one who stab him, or the people behind that's fascinated by a blooded knife, or all of them. He grunted and cursed all the living daylights of him, when he didn't expect a one liter of isopropyl alcohol to be poured unto his wound. "Fucking shit! Do you wanna fucking kill me?!" RiVi screamed at the top of his lungs, that startled the busy people, playing over a blooded knife and the bored Ping just threw the empty gallon somewhere.