Novel & Cerita Your Words Cut Deep Deeper Than Any Blade

AUDREY POV Like a slice to my throat or a dagger plunged into my heart so deep that I had died instantly. That is exactly what his words felt like. Exactly how much they pierced my wounded heart and broke me apart. could it be possible? to have so much for that one moment and have it taken away the next? Did I not deserve true happiness?

If this doesn’t work he will be all I have left. “On the contrary baby. Love can hurt. It can cut deeply” he says as he pierces the flesh under my lungs. “It has its ups and it has its downs” He says as he drags that clawed tip up between my breast. It slices through the robe I wear and I can feel as my breast hit the air. He drags it down sharply as he cuts away the rest of the fabric to punctuate his words. “Most of all it is all consuming. Just like me, it can eat you alive”. His last words are whispered into my ear.

You ripped my pride! 'Words are more dangerous than swords and guns. They reach further and hurt deeper.' That day I realized the depths of these lines. The wounds given by swords can heal but nothing can heal the wounds your words inflicted on me. They made me feel dirty like filth of your shoes, like a whore as you always say. You killed me that day Alexander.

Don't forget—I still have that video of you coming on to me the night you got drunk! I stared at him in disbelief. My voice was hoarse as I shot back, "Clinton Whitfield, are you seriously using that to threaten me? And you call yourself a man?" But he scoffed in response. Whatever trace of guilt he had shown before was already gone. "Don't forget today is the anniversary of your mother's death," Clinton hissed. "She spent her life teaching you to have self-respect. You wouldn't want her to know how shameless you've become since she died, would you?"

A smile, faint and distant, brushed my lips. “Any last words?” I asked. He laughed, the sound empty and defiant. “Love always finds a way, they say. Pity it found its way out of your lives.” He tried to make it mockery. It landed small and thin. I didn’t hesitate. The arc of the blade was inevitable. It fell. Blood exploded warm and bright across my face. His head rolled, snow swallowing the sound, crimson blossoming against white. For a breath, everything narrowed to the metallic tang in my mouth and the thudding in my ears.

And no sign of who lit it. Just one message left on the mirror, written in soap: “Glass cuts deeper than knives.”

“I need you to take a very good sleep because we will have a very deep and lengthy conversation tomorrow. A warning, though: it might be something that you will not like, so prepare yourself well. I would spend the night thinking about what will happen tomorrow and preparing myself if I were you. But it is your call, Joe. Just know that in matters concerning myself, I call all the shots and not you. Never was you! Never will be you. It was, still is, and forever will be me, Belladine Montana!” If looks could kill, my soul would be burning in the eternal flames of hell right now courtesy of his murderous gaze. And if no one has ever been hurt by their own words, I am the first to suffer the w

I tried to speak, to defend myself, but my words were swallowed by the darkness that enveloped me. That was the moment he swiftly grabbed the sword and cut my legs off. A yell left my throat as I watched my lips scattered on the floor. A loud laugh rang out immediately, they were all amused by my fear. That was the moment I felt a searing pain on my back. Another sword stuck through my chest, twisting my heart mercilessly.

I’m not sure when I send the blade flying, but in one second my hand is empty. I vaguely hear the sound of metal cutting through the air. In the next second, It slices through candlelight, haze and history. Then— Impact. Not the clean, hollow plunge I rehearsed a hundred times in my head. There’s resistance. A sickening scrape. Metal meeting flesh, then bone. A sharp, strangled inhale. The blade does not sink where it should.

My own words sounded foreign to me, as if they were coming from a place beyond my control, from the very heart of the beast that had been unleashed. “No way...” Brandon’s disbelief was evident, his voice trembling as he spoke. But my grip on the blade tightened, the leather of my gloves creaking under the pressure. “I'm going to kill you,” I declared, each word dripping with venom that matched the red hue of my stained hands. “Slowly.”