Knife Drop の小説・ストーリー

In seconds, I was on the floor laughing out my lungs. "What's funny?" She asked. "You've lost it, Cam! You've really lost it." I said, regaining my composure. "I'm not joking!" She yelled at me in annoyance. "How do you expect me to believe that I'm this monster from an ancient fable told to kids?" "I don't know? But it is the only explanation that I can think of." She exhaled loudly. "Think about it, the name Kopis is ancient Greece for a knife and it's no coincidence that your name..."

I turned my sight back to the task in my hand. Suddenly my knuckle hit something in between the files.My hand still for a moment then quickly lifted a file . Under it was an old dagger with red cloth wrapped around its blade.The head of the dagger was the shape of a lion with an open mouth like it was roaring.I got up and unwrapped the red silk cloth. There was engraving on the edges of the blade. The only thing was left to complete the ritual was fire .I went to pick up Knox slacks.He usually keeps a lighter with him . I swiftly pulled the lighter out of his pocket and walked towards Knox .

“This is not happening.” “Oh, it’s happening,” Kylan said with a grin, crossing his arms. His tattoos shifted with the movement, drawing my unwilling attention. “And you should thank us. You looked like you could use a decent meal.” “I don’t need anything from you,” I snapped, my face heating as I realized I was still holding the knife. Kieran raised an eyebrow. “Planning to use that, or are you just trying to make a point?” I looked down at the knife in my hand and quickly shoved it back into my bag. “Shut up.”

Alyssa My pulse skyrockets as Niko reaches for the sharp knife on the table, kneeling down in front of me. I remain perfectly still as he brings the blade to my shirt, slicing it open in one swift movement. The sound of fabric tearing echoes in the room. He rips it from my shoulders like it's made of paper, leaving my chest exposed to the cool air.

I walked him through proper form, stance, and grip, emphasizing the importance of holding the knife correctly. “First, find a knife that fits you,” I explained. “Not every blade suits everyone. As a beginner, it’s best to practice with the same set until you improve. Look for something durable and balanced. And yes, some knives dull faster—avoid those. For now, a dull edge is safer, but you still want a sharp point for effectiveness.” I gestured to the training closet. “Try a few until you find one that feels right.”

"Before I forget we're in a war zone and take you on this floor." I step back, breathless, my skin burning where he touched me. I move to the kitchen table. Spadino is there. He is perched on the edge of the wood, his feet resting on the bench. He is peeling a blood orange with a combat knife. The blade is six inches of serrated steel, designed to gut a man. In Spadino’s hands, it is a delicate instrument. He slices the rind in a perfect spiral, the zest releasing a burst of citrus scent into the air.

Very sharp-looking knives. I sit back and do the calculation. If that were to fall, whoever was standing by the door would be turned into a kebab. “You know, Whiro, I probably wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I say casually. “As if I’m stupid enough to listen to you,” he scoffs just as he gives the doorknob a heave, causing it to pull right out from the door. But the knob is attached to some kind of chord. “What the fuck?” Whiro says in confusion as the sound of spring mechanisms can be heard going off at the same time the chandelier drops. Whiro narrowly dives out of the way but lets out a cry of pain as one of the knives impales him right through the calf while the other knives become embe

Fighting throngs of them in human form is Thor's specialty. Before I abandon the car, I open the glove compartment and bring out the serrated edge karambit knife I took from Uncle Knox's workshop. The karambit is a perfect knife for silent killing. It can slice deep into flesh with ease and the curved and serrated edges on the silver blade make it a deadly and dangerous weapon that can hook and snag at sensitive organs like the intestine, making the person suffer a slow and painful death.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

He could snap her neck in an instant, ending her very existence but Zena seemed more than prepared. "I could kill you with my hands this very instant but first, you must tell me what makes you so fucking special that the gods have chosen to take the lives of innocent children ever since your captivity" His words slithered through the air surrounding them, a deadly whisper that carried the weight of restrained fury. Zena's hand searched her sides for her mini dagger that she always kept hidden but Knox was too drunken with his anger to have sensed that she was up to something. "I could send you to them to so you would out the answer to your question." She declared and with precise, well calcu