Knife Drop Novels & Stories

His men had done quite an impressive job on their victim. Leaning forward, a sharp tool flashed in his tattooed hands as he spoke ...his personal favourite weapon. A double blade dagger with his initials engraved on its side "This is what we're going to continue doing, for every wrong answer you give I'll rip off one of your body parts ...there's plenty you don't need to be alive" he paused, to see the desired effect of his words on the man.

I cried. His lips attacked my neck ignoring what I had said, but I couldn't feel anything my whole body was just numb. If he were to kill me, now would be the best time to do so. "Get off me!" I shrieked as I tried moving my body. His hands pulled down my shorts as he pulls my hips down further towards him creating more tension on my wrist. I see him reach over and grab a large metal object, creating panic when I realize it's a knife.

He stuttered. "Huh?" I asked dumbfounded. "The sword....i- it's not a knife, it's a katana sword. They are very sharp and can be quite lethal. If you don't know how to hold it, you can get seriously hurt. I'm sorry miss, but if you don't hold a permit for it, I can not allow you to keep it."

Kate was ready to make a move. She slowly and quietly stretched to reach the sharp pocket knife. As she was about to get grip on the knife, a strong leg kicked her finger and the knife away. She screamed in pain as she was certain that at least two of her fingers were broken.

I guess it comes in different forms. The pocketknife in Sally’s purse was an old Swiss Army issue, the kind with can openers and corkscrews and nail scissors attached. She still has it. We call it Freddy, like from the movies. The blades are notched so tight together if you try to pull one out and don’t do it tough, it’ll snap back and slice a finger before it locks straight. It’s possible Sally thought about taking the knife out, that night in the motel. Thought about risking a little blood. And it’s possible the thought got her contemplating carnage.

In seconds, I was on the floor laughing out my lungs. "What's funny?" She asked. "You've lost it, Cam! You've really lost it." I said, regaining my composure. "I'm not joking!" She yelled at me in annoyance. "How do you expect me to believe that I'm this monster from an ancient fable told to kids?" "I don't know? But it is the only explanation that I can think of." She exhaled loudly. "Think about it, the name Kopis is ancient Greece for a knife and it's no coincidence that your name..."

I turned my sight back to the task in my hand. Suddenly my knuckle hit something in between the files.My hand still for a moment then quickly lifted a file . Under it was an old dagger with red cloth wrapped around its blade.The head of the dagger was the shape of a lion with an open mouth like it was roaring.I got up and unwrapped the red silk cloth. There was engraving on the edges of the blade. The only thing was left to complete the ritual was fire .I went to pick up Knox slacks.He usually keeps a lighter with him . I swiftly pulled the lighter out of his pocket and walked towards Knox .

Since the girl was too tired to explain things to her, she just said it went well and headed upstairs. Icarus didn't return for dinner but it was still unknown if he would come back tonight. She hadn't met him for a whole day and wished it would continue a couple more days. After dinner before heading up, Kiara's eyes fell on the rack of knife which was kept in the kitchen. The chef got the knife sharpened every single day because of which a whole stand was dedicated to those knives to protect anyone from getting hurt. Kiara stared at the knives for a while, she was hesitant for a while but proceeded to grab one of the knives and take it back to the room with her. She placed it carefully und

I looked at Alex, who was now staring at me in desperation, "Stop! Let her go before I fucking-" "Before you what, Alex? Huh? Kill me? Last I remember, this is mine." He dropped the knife he was holding and then swiftly picked out another one from his pockets . This one is different. I stared at the short silver knife with some carvings on the sides. "Where did you-"

The vengeance-creator is briefly overwhelmed by the wounded animal that wants to bite, right now, even if it means getting crushed. My eyes scan the semi-darkness. No weapon in sight. Volkov isn't stupid. But luxury is full of sharp objects. My gaze rests on the cold breakfast tray, brought and ignored earlier in the night. A butter knife. Not a weapon. A toy. A short, blunt blade with a wrought silver handle. It's laughable. It's perfect. It's the only sharp point in this universe of silk. I hold my breath. The rhythm of his breathing doesn't change. Slow, deep. Asleep.