Sharp Objects Book Novels & Stories

I asked as I suddenly felt nervous "Don't worry, you work hurt me" "How do you know that? I might do it accidentally, and isn't it better to work with a blunt knife or something not so sharp, cause I don't think this is a good idea?" " It's better to start with a sharp knife, I have folded you, you have great potential, and starting off the gun with what you would face in light of an attack is better than using something blunt, and you won't hurt me because I am too quick for you to catch," he said

It resembled a drawn sword that discarded all defenses and exuded an unparalleled sharpness, sweeping all before it. Instantly, a killing intent permeated the air.

Richard POV I stop my car in front of the townhouse and take a deep breath as I grip the steering wheel. I get out of the car, and as I reach the door, it bursts open, and a man walks out of the house while he is shouting inside. “Get out,” I hear Pamela shouting from inside the house, and as soon as I reach the door, it flies open, and a man walks out shouting inside. I don’t think he saw me.

He'd sharpened them all that afternoon, had tested the edges on paper, had run his thumb along the blades with the specific attention of someone who knew that a sharp knife was safer than a dull one and that the difference between a good cook and a great one was often just the quality of attention they brought to their tools. The reading list was spread out beside the knife roll. He'd printed it from the course website and had checked off each item as he'd completed it — all fourteen textbooks, all twenty-three supplementary readings, all of the recommended viewing. He'd made notes in the margins of the most important sections, had highlighted key passages, and had dog-eared the pages that c

On a shelf in the corner of the room, there were some heavy special books, which looked ancient and mysterious. I walked closer to the shelves, carefully inspecting the vessels and weapons. I picked up a sword, admiring the intricate design on the hilt. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my hand. I had accidentally cut myself on the blade of the sword. It was just a small wound, but it stung nonetheless.

Something colder. Sharper. A blade waiting for the right moment. And when it came, I wouldn’t miss.

If he could pull the peak down, the rest would follow. The Final Honing He returned to the bench and picked up the tanto one last time. He tested the edge against a single hair on his forearm. It didn't cut; it vanished the hair. He looked at his reflection in the flat of the blade. He didn't see a hero. He didn't see a villain. He saw a tool. "Chapter six is over," he said to the empty room. "The philosophy is established. Now comes the application."

Writers are weird. I find it rude of him to come to my house, a house I pay for by the way, and shamelessly tell me to tone down the volume. Who the hell does he think he is? " I'm Nate Sharpe, " he stretches his hand. Wait, Nate Sharpe! TjNate Sharpe! I shake his hand forcefully and dramatically, making him laugh." I love your books. But my best of all time, SCARS. I cried the whole week when Ella died." Okay, I'm lying. " It was so... Unpredictable. I didn't see that coming."

161 Zara's POV "Oh god, Zara! I'm scared for you." My fake sobs came to a halt as I heard an equally jarring fake gasp on the call. "How big is the knife? Is it a katana? Or a machete?" The mockery in those words pierced my ego like the tip of an obsidian blade. When I say obsidian blade, I remember reading once that it is the sharpest blade in the world. One can only imagine how deep the tip wounded my ego.

"Lily, it's a nice thought but-" Lily had reached the final page of the book and her face dropped. "No, there has to be something!" "Maybe it is just a fairytale-" "Wait." Lily had let the last page of the book fall and she frowned, staring at the back leather cover. "I need a knife," she murmured to herself and searched her pockets, pulling out a small blade. She then gently sliced along the edge of the back cover, creating an opening. "Fuck me," she whispered and pulled out what looked like an old piece of parchment.