Pretty Knife Novels & Stories

“Sit down.” “Penelope, he’s—” “Sit down,” I repeat, my eyes locking onto Khalani’s greasy forehead. “Did you walk across the floor just to bark, Khalani? Because the noise is giving me a headache.” “Not just to talk,” Khalani says. His hand moves to his leather belt. There is a sharp, metallic click. A heavy, jagged hunting knife drops onto the table, the moonstone blade driving two inches deep into the wood. The silver-white edge gleams under the blue neon lights of the bar.

Raphael spat. My men had been relatively soft with him. It must’ve given him a false sense of security that what he’d gone through was as bad as it got. I smiled. If you only knew. “Language, Mr. Kedan. Honestly. Did your mother not teach you manners?” I selected one of the blades. I had a soft spot for knives. They were lethal, precise, versatile. Everything I liked in a weapon. “Here’s the thing.” I pressed the tip of the knife into his sternum.

Not that I had seen, anyway. As if reading my mind, Andrei pulled the knife in question out of the sheath at his hip and held it up for us both to look at it. The silver blade caught the moonlight, the ruby embedded in the hilt almost seeming to absorb it. “Pretty,” I said, digging through the first aid kit for some butterfly bandages. “Must have stolen it off a rich person.” Andrei shot me a look. “Let’s hope the original owner is still alive.”

Reiner said confidently. I didn’t know if I should watch or look away. Reiner’s hand round my wrist tightened as he slowly positioned the tip of the knife against my skin. I took in a deep breath and held it; however, my eyes refused to look away. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as dramatic as I had imagined it and it was mostly due to the fact that everything happened so quickly that it was over before I knew it. It wasn’t a lie when Kuman said that Reiner was very skilled with a knife. He was done carving a small version of the symbol into my skin before I could feel the slight stinging pain.

Lucain said, spanking her ass a little as he moved to the other side, picking up a knife. “Nice try dude!”. Ava rolled her eyes causing Lucain to chuckled. “Knives are versatile weapons, Ava. They require precision and finesse. Hold it firmly, but don't grip it too tightly. You want to maintain control.” Lucian said, swinging the knife skillfully as Ava watch with amusement in her eyes. “I wanna do that too!”. She pout, causing Lucian to laugh. “The key is to strike swiftly and accurately. Aim for vital areas, like the throat or abdomen. But remember, ava, we only use these skills for self-defense, never for aggression”. Lucain said, as he positioned himself right behind her, the knife poise

"—I hadn't used one for some time. But when this uppity bitch came to my house today, acting like some fucking saviour with her stupid grocery bags, I had to show her who's boss. I should have slit her throat. She's lucky I let her go with just a small cut. She should have thanked me for sparing her life." "You did, did you?" Austin murmured, leaning forward in his seat. "Riveting tale, by the way. But as I was saying about knives...I don't like them so much." "Why not?" "I don't like how intimate they are. You have to get up close and personal with someone, not to mention you have to exert a lot of pressure just to kill a son of a bitch!" he replied, leaping to his feet as he took off his j

“Okay, I’m ready.” Everyone is looking at me like I’m crazy. Well, I’m Latina, so it’s an occupational hazard either way. I shake it off, get focused, and throw my Kukri straight to the bull’s eye of the standalone target. Then I move to my smaller knives and hit all of the hanging targets while moving to my seven inch parkerized knife. With a flick of the wrist in the right angle I managed to slice through three targets before rolling forward and reaching for my bowie to stab the final target at the opposite side of the room.

We just passed the 12 weeks mark. “Rissa and Gabe will help you practice and get used to it.” I just nodded and pulled the knife from its sheath. It was beautiful in its own deadly way. I didn’t know shit about knives, but I was sure you can kill pretty easily with a blade like this. “The blade is a high density silver alloy, so don’t cut yourself,” Gabriel chimed in. “I won’t.” I gave him an offended look as I put the blade back and closed the box on it.

my partner cut in. “No rush. It’s 3742. Good luck, Holmes and Watson.” “We don’t need your good luck, poop,” she spat and ended the call. She entered the passcode and we opened the gallery. As usual, there were two images. One is an image of a knife stabbed to the ground beside a short, fat tree and the other is an AMU student entering a café. Wait… I snatched the phone from her hand and zoomed in on the knife. Oh, hell. “It’s an obsidian knife, the sharpest knife in the world.”