Razor Blade Gravity Knife Novels & Stories

Then I grabbed my sheath for my waist and inserted my seven inch parkerized blade. “Holy Moon Goddess! You look like you are going to war.” Rory squealed. I laughed at her energy. I look over at Aiden who is looking at me with some emotion I cannot name. The last thing I grab is my Kukri Machete. It’s eight inches long and completely black. There is only a thin silver lining along the edge. It’s great for combat, but I am going to slice through some of the targets. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Gabi commanded. “I… I… want to… talk to… Antony.” She stuttered out before focusing back on the wall instead of Gabi. “Shit. I don’t know how she is doing it. But she is ignoring the command. Levi, use your spiral knife. Left thigh.” Gabi said nodding to me. Sighing, I looked at my bag and pulled out one of my favorite knives. It was a 10’ long spiral Damascus steel blade that could wreak havoc on a body. It hurt like hell going into the body, but hurt a great deal more coming out.

“I prefer a double bladed sward.” “I know. Vincent told me. That is why I bought you this.” Ethan grabbed a box that I didn’t realize was even there. Pulling out the most beautiful set of blades I had ever seen. They each had a tri-angled blade with three prongs at the base. Once twisted together, they made up one long double-bladed sward. Each handle was custom to fit my smaller hand, but he had it engraved. “Luna Grace…” Etched into the blades in delicate script, I was blown away.

The anger, the regret, the anxiety, the emotional and mental tiredness. I kept the water running and then searched the bathroom for something to use as a weapon. I needed something that would weaken him immediately, because trust me, I did not know how to fight or could even defend myself well. Then my eyes landed on the small knife that men normally use for shaving. I think it’s called a straight razor or a cut-throat razor. The only reason I even knew the name was because of Chris. It was perfect. I knew for a fact that it was very sharp and every time that Chris would use it to shave, I would have so much anxiety.

“Tell me more.” “A standard blade is either 1/2 inch or a full inch. You have to special order a 1/4 inch or get it from a certain brand. A 1/4 inch is more the size of a pocket knife or paring knife, none of which would make those marks.” “What does that tell us?” I was quiet for a moment. “Dad has a signature knife used for torture.” Cade nodded. “What else did you notice about the cuts?” “One side was jaggard, like it was a serrated, but not in a normal way. Almost like it is twisted. The other was straight, but at an angle.”

She staggered and nearly fell! She stood firmly and weighed the dart with her hand. To her surprise, the dart was extremely heavy. It was twenty times heavier than a normal dart! What kind of dart was it? It was clearly a flying knife! No wonder five blades could not stop it. Even one hundred blades would not be able to stop it with that weight!

“It has to be silver!” “Noted,” Zero bit out, firing again. This time, the creature flinched, a sizzling sound erupting from the wound. “Seems they don’t like it up close either!” He was already moving, a blur of motion as he drew a blade from his vest—a blade I now saw was etched with faint, glowing runes. The world erupted into chaos.

I said flatly, “isn’t just a fucking transaction.” His breathing was ragged. “I didn’t think you’d find out—” “You thought I was stupid?” “No—Luca, please—I swear, I didn’t know it’d get traced—” I brought out the knife. Damon winced. Matteo exhaled harshly through his nose. The knife was slim, sharp, and elegant. I loved that blade. Gifted by a Russian associate, forged from carbon steel. It slid between Jared’s ribs like butter. He screamed. Loud and pathetic.

"Oh? And what can you do, sweetheart?" I smiled coldly. My hand slid into my hair. I unpinned the jeweled hairclip Sebastian had gifted me—the one he called "just in case." I clicked it open, revealing the hidden blade. Serrated, sharp, almost needle-like. Designed to pierce deep and refuse to be pulled free. I trailed it gently across one man’s neck. He didn’t notice until the tip broke skin. "Ow—what the fuck?!" The others went still. "Try me," I said. "Please. Give me a reason."