A Grinding Embrace

The vise still held the lead throat of my sickle captive against the scarred bench. Reaching up with both gauntleted hands, I grasped the cold iron lever once more, hauling downward with measured force. Metal shrieked in stubborn protest as the threaded spindle turned, opening its jagged steel jaws. My blade pulled free, scarred by crosshatched indentations pressed deep into the malleable lead. Beside the vise, a heavy mill bastard file lay half-buried beneath wood shavings. I dragged the flat, grooved steel across the sickle’s freshly bruised collar, letting each rasping stroke smooth the sharp ridges into a grim, matte contour. #Lucidique #Torturedsouls #Hellraiser