Your Words Cut Deep Deeper Than Any Blade Novels & Stories

His words broke apart into another ragged cry as I dragged the blade higher. Please? Sorry? Those words held no meaning anymore. He should have thought about this before messing with me. I worked slowly. I wanted him to feel it. Every inch. Every slice. Skin peeled back in trembling strips under my hand. His chest heaved, his face blotched red, sweat rolling in thick streams down his temples. His mouth gaped wide, spitting out broken sobs, his words blurring together—pleading, bargaining, promising things he couldn’t deliver.

These words stung me, a painful torrent that defied description. But before I could answer, Visha turned a frosty gaze on me, her tone suddenly rising to scream. Remember her voice, I thought, as the words of Visha cut into me like some knife. "Stop calling, please stop behaving as if you care," she said, her voice laced with venom, each word a dagger aimed directly at my heart.

I don't what happened to me when I heard his inhumane words stabbing me again and again. As if one sharp thrust was not enough, he would take the knife out and then hit me again in the same spot until I bleed to death. It's not necessary to kill someone physically with a weapon, one can do the same damage with thier words just like Arnold did to me in that moment. There was no reflection of emotions on my face or either my eyes watered. I was numb as I walked out of the door.

I pressed the blade to his skin, not cutting, not yet, just letting him feel the cold promise of it His lips twisted into a grin as he stared deep into my eyes, no hint of fear In his eyes. I clicked my tongue, dragging the blade down his skin just enough to split him, my teeth gritted as I dug it deeper into his skin just above the place he had a wound. His scream ripped through the room, and it was like a sweet music to my ears

Her words were like a slap, stinging my skin and leaving a pain that I couldn't shake. I felt a familiar ache in my chest. Her words cut deeper than I'd ever admit, slicing into my defenses and exposing the raw, vulnerable flesh beneath. I wanted to scream, to rage against the how badly I got treated, to remind her that this was my home too, that my father was the Alpha, that I had once been loved and cherished.

Is being a pole dancer just because of my needs that sinful. Tears were continuously falling from my eyes.I placed my palms on my face breaking into loud cry. I fell on my knees and cried harder. How am I even still alive after hearing those words. How can someone’s fate this cruel. I never wanted this life. I never wanted anything bad. Then why this is happening to me. Why. Sometimes words leaving tongue can be sharper than a knife. Knife can hurt you but words can break you apart. Like his words broke her completely. _______________________

I drag the blade across his face, leavin’ a crimson line in its wake. “Hunt. Catch. Kill. Take them all to the devil, one by one,” I sing, my voice low and twisted as I carve down his chest. Wesley screams, thrashin’ in my grip, but it only makes me press harder, the knife slicin’ through his skin like butter. His blood splatters across the balcony, stainin’ the stone beneath our feet, but I barely notice. I’m lost in the madness, in the sweet, sweet sound of his agony. “Slice by slice, drip by drip,” I growl, my mind spiralin’ deeper into the chaos. “Feed the beast that never sleeps.” The blade moves faster, cuttin’ deeper, as his screams grow weaker, his body losin’ strength.

Aldrake said, his words shattering her heart. His words sliced through her heart like a thousand shards of glass, each one cutting deeper into her soul. Tears streamed down her face, a torrent of pain and despair that she couldn't contain. She trembled, her entire being shattering under the weight of his cruel words. It was as if the very foundation of her world had been ripped apart, leaving her gasping for air, unable to process the brutal truth that had just been laid bare.

Then I lower the blade. Silently, tilting my head with fascination I watch as his pale skin quickly oozes ruby. It can’t just be a skin wound, I remind myself. I have to go deeper. I push a little further, the cut now two inches across his stomach. Breathing steadily, hypnotised by my act of highest treason I am lost, mesmerised by the blood. Don’t stop until it’s gushing, I remind myself. His wolf might be able to heal so we need to go deep-

My patience went over the edge like a dry twig yielding under pressure. "You know nothing" rolled out of me, deep and cold, like a blade of sound cleaving through the night. It wasn't deafening, and it needn't have been. It settled like lead into their bones, visibly sending shivers down their spines. I could see their shoulders hunched; I could see the gasping breaths."And therefore, you have no right to stand before me and spill filth." Before the words finished drifting away, I was practically there. My sword, being my very arm, felt heavy in my grasp and thirsty for blood. It sliced through the air, through the skin and the man fell dead, the head separated from the body.