Knife Hidden In Comb Novels & Stories

I didn’t open it right away. I let it sit. Boxes like this weren’t just storage. They were evidence. Relics. Proof that someone was here, and hurt, and real. I lifted the lid. First layer: there's a hoodie. Child-sized. Blue, frayed at the sleeves. Beneath that, a pocket knife. Closed. Clean. Blunt tip. Small enough for a child’s hand. I ran a gloved thumb across the side. No initials. No rust. The kind of knife you keep hidden, not to use, but just to know it’s there.

Joan asked. "I heard she is badly wounded, do you have a knife behind those teeth of yours?" K.k asked. Joan burst into laughter "you're crazy..." K.k laughed "no I'm not, she's really in great pain, heard she would be in there for a while." Joan chortled "quite a vacation for her."

The butcher knife. I untied the fabric off my nose and wrapped it to the blood-soaked murder weapon. With its blade facing upwards, I hid it under my black hooded jacket and secured it between the garters of my boxer shorts and my corduroy pants. Because the handkerchief was so thin that it couldn’t cover the entire butcher knife, I felt its sharp edges grazing my abdomen. It was hurting me a lot. Even so, I knew to myself that I had to endure the pain this injury might cause, if I really wanted to take the weapon with me and hide it from the police.

I secretly pressed the alarm on my sports watch, Haressa received it. “Let's go!" he says. Oba immediately acted and together they raised their guns that had silencers. While Glendy and I slowly pulled out the mini-hunting knives that were currently hidden in our hair. Both men didn't notice because their conversation was serious. When I got the small mini-hunting knife, it immediately slashed Yin Tong's neck. “Assassin—”

He shifted his grip, trying a different angle, one hand higher, one lower, testing for any kind of give, any sign that it wasn’t completely fixed in place. He pulled again. The stone around it didn’t crack. Didn’t shift. The weapon remained exactly where it was. Riley exhaled slowly, forcing himself to settle rather than rush it, his mind already working through the problem instead of fighting it blindly. If it was here— this deep— this hidden— then it wasn’t meant to be easy. That much was obvious. He leaned in closer, running his hand along where the weapon met the rock, checking for anything he might have missed, some mechanism, some release, anything that would explain why it was embedde

Neah moved toward me with the focused intent of a woman who had already decided what she was going to find, and when she reached me, she grabbed my arm and spun me around. Her hands were rough and fast. She patted down my sides, my pockets, the folds of my clothes, and I stood rigid with my jaw locked and my fists clenched and hatred burning so hot in my chest that I could taste it. My wolf howled silently inside me, pressing against my ribs, and the child beneath my navel felt suddenly, terrifyingly fragile. Neah's hand dipped into my left pocket and came out holding something small and glinting. A jade comb, pale green, with delicate teeth and a carved flower at the crown. She held it up b

Its polished wooden handle was carved with intricate patterns dating back decades. The description underneath caught my attention. [Property of Salvatore Ricci. Recovered after the Naples Accord. Hidden within the handle is a sword designed to slide free with a simple twist.] Woah. I moved to the next display which was a silver comb on top of a little pillow. Its teeth appeared completely ordinary until I noticed the tiny release mechanism near the base. The entire spine concealed a thin dagger! Another display held an antique walking cane. The brass head detached to reveal a compact pistol.

she muttered under her breath. “You left it in the trap, didn’t you?” Vega’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and accusing. “Crap!” Hennia smacked her forehead in frustration, her shoulders slumping. “We can’t use another knife! The Blade of Septem is the only one that works!”

Holding the s‍⁠mal⁠l⁠ piece o⁠f‌ s⁠teel tightly be‍t‍ween my thumb and for‍efinger behind‍ m⁠y back, I bent the pin⁠ agai‌nst the iron armr⁠est un⁠til the tip spli⁠t into a sharp, do⁠ub‍⁠le-pr⁠onged hook. I slid the makeshif‍t pick into the ti‌ny keyhole of my ri‍ght silv‍er c‌uff. ‘Feel for the tumbl‌er,’ K‍aele‌n’s voi‍ce ins‌t‌r‍uct⁠ed in my mi‌nd‍. ‘First pi‌n i‌‌s heavy. Second p‌in is s⁠pr⁠ing⁠-loaded.’

Extremely good! He pecks me on the lips and I have to remember that I'm doing this for Elizabeth, in order to keep the vomit down. "I'm just going to take a shower real quick" he says and I nod, and take this as my opportunity. I take off my heels and tip toe, following him to the bedroom, the moment the bathroom door closes, I take that as my cue and enter the room, scanning my eyes around and grabbing the cell phone on the drawer. I swipe it open and realise there's a Pin password on it. Damnit!