There She Was With The Blade In Her Hand 소설 & 이야기

Our faces were inches apart now, her breath heavy, her eyes burning with fury. “Let go,” she hissed, her free hand reaching for something at her waist. I saw the blade a second too late. She slashed at me, the knife slicing through my sleeve, grazing my skin. Pain flared, but I didn’t loosen my hold. “You think a knife’s going to stop me?” I growled, wrenching the weapon from her hand and tossing it aside. Her knee shot up, aiming for my stomach, but I blocked it with my leg. She was good, better than I remembered…but I was better.

“R-Rissa... my Queen... Please, just let me see Dad. One last time. Please. He’s all I have left.” I tilted my head slightly. “He doesn’t want to see you.” She choked, whether in tears or rage, I couldn’t tell. A blade materialized in my hand, summoned from my magic. Sleek. Silver. Sharp enough to slice through bone and spell alike. I didn’t hesitate. The blade cut across her throat in one clean motion. Her eyes went wide with shock and disbelief. She struggled against the chains, hands clawing at the wound uselessly as thick red blood spilled from her neck.

I took a switchblade from my pocket and popped it open, it was made out of silver and a ragged but sharp blade. "Should we wait til she wakes up?" Eli questioned. "No," I answered and took her arm and began to carve into her forearm, 'He is not yours' blood spilled over and began to splatter against the floor she let out a screeching yelp, her eyes bulged as she woke up to the pain. She tried to take ragged breaths as she tried to come to our surroundings. Then she saw my face and the blade in my hand and that's when she started to panic, I let out a laugh as her face turned into fear.

A pain-filled growl hit the air, and blood splashes out. I grab his hair and pull it back, then grip the handle of the blade and twist it deeper into his eye. “Where is she?!”

I said firmly, seeing her hesitate at the doorframe. But instead of obeying, she turned back… and pulled out a kitchen knife. My body stiffened, but I didn’t flinch. “Even if you were holding a gun,” I said coldly, “you wouldn’t scare me.” She didn’t lunge at me. Instead, she raised the blade, and with a twisted grin, slashed her own arm. Blood spilled in thin rivulets down her wrist. My heart jumped. “I hope Theo beats you to death this time,” she hissed with a cackle, then, like a switch flipped, she let out a blood-curdling scream.

Nothing but a blur. She gasps loudly, freezing on the spot. The cold tip of the razor sharp knife dips into her throat, drawing a speck of blood in warning. My right hand curled around the handle of the blade to the right of her head, my body directly behind her smaller one. "Tell me why you're here, or I will cut your pretty little throat" I gnarl icily. My flesh never touching hers. "Only a fool makes threats, and only another fool feels threatened" she hisses like a snake, before laughing quietly. Her hand latches onto my arm with speed, her flesh making contact with mine.

“You have no right! You murdered them! You killed my mother and my father! They loved you! They gave you everything, and you butchered them in their own home!” Tears streamed freely down her face, but there was no softness in them, only fuel for the fire in her eyes. Before I could process what was happening, her hand darted from behind her back. She was holding a knife, its blade long and slender, gleaming wickedly in the torchlight. With a heart-wrenching cry that was equal parts pain and fury, she launched herself at me. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you myself!” Time seemed to slow. Clara cried out my name. I braced for the impact, for the searing pain of the blade. But it never came.

Her word was law here. She stood and drew her blade. It wasn’t ceremonial. It was steel, simple and sharp, the same blade she’d used to cut through twenty men at Bloodpeak. It hummed faintly when it sensed old blood. Sera looked at it, then at Elena. “Do it fast,” she said. Elena’s hand didn’t shake. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s okay,” Sera said. “I’m tired, Elena. I’m so tired.” The blade came down.

She looked straight into my eyes, unflinching. “That’s good,” she whispered hoarsely. “Because after this… there will be no burden left for her to carry.” Before I could even comprehend what she meant, her frail hand shot out from under the blanket. I saw the glint of a blade. My eyes widened in shock as she pressed the knife to her throat and drove it deep into her flesh. Her body jerked, a strangled sound escaping her lips. Blood gushed over her chest, soaking the sheets. I didn’t move.

I said. “You do not get to choose.” “I always choose.” She smiled again slowly and dangerously. “No,” she said. “Not this time.” Her hand lifted and the blade gleamed. Firelight danced across it and my chest rose fast and hard and everything felt tight, everything felt close. “This ends now,” she whispered and I shook my head. “No…” She raised the blade and brought it down.