Novel & Cerita Lips On The Tips Of A Knife

Shadow shakes me out of my thoughts and I look up at him "Uhm I don't know I've never used any of these," I say and he chuckles. My memory takes me back to the flashback I had when I killed some of his men using the weapons displayed "Oh," I say out loud "I guess I don't know knives," I say looking back up at him "Good choice" he grins planting a kiss on my forehead. He guides me to the knife section. Looking at all of them displayed I picked the set of green knives that just seemed more deadly

I will not forgive myself if he has bad things. Elias wanted one punch to end the fight, but Lorne did a flip on the ground and jumped up. His speed was twice as fast as before; from inside his belt, he took out two specially designed knives. The shape is strange but extremely sharp; even a few hundred meters away, I can still see the blade glowing.

"You planned it all? Too bad your brain couldn't plan for this." Before he could blink, in one quick motion, the blade in the air left my fingers like a whisper of death. It sliced through the side of his cheek-clean, sharp, leaving a trail of blood like a red warning. He flinched, hands instinctively rising to his face before the knife embedded itself straight between the eyes of the guard behind him . The body dropped with a thud . The silence that followed was heavy. Deadly. I turned my back on him without fear. But Klaus's voice rang out immediately, sharp as gunfire.

I twisted the knife slowly and watched blood pool beneath her. I removed the knife and heard her gasp for air. "And there's the tarsal bone right around here," I said as I stabbed the knife into her bare foot, going straight through. "A little bit to the right," Luca chimed in, acting smart. I grinned and twisted the knife to the right. Liana was screaming in pain, just as she deserved. I took the knife out and wiped it on her pants. "This is a nerve in your bicep," I said as I shoved the knife deep into her arm, making sure to twist it.

Though, I have a bit of a different use in mind. “Who wants to go first?” I say, holding up the deadly looking knife and smiling like a mad woman. Neither of them move or even attempt to make a muffled sound, both of their terrified eyes stay glued to the knife in my hand. I let out a sigh, placing the knife on the side table, where it glints ominously, and face them with my hands on my hips.

"Just don't look. Close your eyes and imagine beautiful things. Don't think about the knife, just play with your imagination." I did what he advised. I closed my eyes but all I could think of was the knife that would strike my heart anytime now. My chest was thumping so loud; I wasn't ready for this. I would never be ready for this. I held my breath, waiting for the blade to plunge into my body but what I felt was his soft lips touching mine. My nerves tingled as electricity travelled through my skin.

I came to stand right beside him and felt that familiar pull, but quickly brushed it aside as I looked down at what he was busy with, “Do you know how to use one of these?” He said gesturing at a sharp knife, raising an eyebrow at him I smiled as I smirked, “I think I can manage,” I said as I went to take the knife from his hand, his fingers brushed up against mine and I gasped as sparks go right through my body, swallowing hard I quickly let go of the knife as I looked up at him, my mouth slightly open with heavy breathing as I just stared into his eyes.

"Maybe this would help you learn how to answer when you're being asked, Luna." Shin picked up a machete from the table beside him. He let his tongue lick it from the edge to its whole length before he positioned it above Nero's left arm, precisely in his wrist. Without taking a second to ask me again, he sliced Nero's arm like it was a piece of cake. Nero bit his lower lip in an attempt to hold back the pain from it as his blood continuously dripped from the slashed part of his arm. The corner of his eyes turned slightly red, and it was the same case for his forehead, which kind of looked like it would randomly explode.

He didn’t respond, just stared, his lips parting in some kind of dazed surrender. And then he leaned in, lips brushing against mine, the contact so brief, it was almost a whisper. But in the same instant, my grip on the knife tightened, the blade biting deeper into his skin. Warm, slick blood coated my fingers, forcing me to jerk back. The heat, the scent—it was too intimate, too close.

Focused on dealing with the pain, I chew on my lower lip. A new sound breaks the silence, but I can't identify what it is until I feel cold steel against my cheek. Then he cuts the blindfold off with a sharp knife. Holding my breath, I try to focus on the knife, staring at it; the bright shimmer from the blade when it catches the candlelight.