Since JKR has inspired me to write more, I came up with this from this prompt. I thought it was a fascinating idea so I gave it a shot.
*headdesk* What did I just write, really......
"Write from the point of view of a knife within a thief's pocket"
I awoke with the taste of determination. I was pulled out of my hiding place for I was the Chosen One for tonight. My stainless steel body gleamed in glee; someone could die tonight by my blade. A jacket was opened and I was slipped inside a pocket by shaking hands. Patiently I waited in the dark as my wielder stepped out in to the cold damp street and continued walking. I could hear his heartbeat increasing in speed. Rolling my eyes (that is if I had any), I wondered how did I end up with this wimp. He probably was gifted me by his simpering mother who thought that I'd make a good potato chopper.
Not this one.
I was fashioned by my creator a long time ago with the intent to draw blood. Even kill. I had a handle that fitted perfectly into any murder's grip. My edge was sharpened to its finest to slice through bone. I was made for hitmans and Russian assassins. Alas, I never got the opportunity. I was wasted on chicken and slabs of beef. Tonight may be the night. I may fulfill my life's purpose soon.
I could feel my owner brisk walking, expelling harsh ragged and anxious breaths every two steps. After a minute, he slowed down. He stopped. A sickening sweet pungent filled the air and there was a soft "mew" from the distance. We must be hiding in an alleyway. And so we waited... and waited. Waited for some poor unfortunate soul to target. I heard a cigarette light up above me. The idiot is nervous. I was never meant to be handled by mere snatchers. After what felt like an hour, we moved again, this time with a little more sense of purpose. Target has been locked. Could this man be the sacrifice for my destiny?
Discreetly, I was pulled out. A manic gleam of silver caught nobody's eye under the lamp lights. In a snap, there was a quick scuffle as my wielder dragged his victim to the next dark alleyway and shoved him against the filthy brick wall. His screams of shock were quickly silenced by the hiss of my blade upon his neck. So close now...
"Gimme yer wallet and phone!"
"L-look man. You d-don't have to do this... I have a wife and kids..." The man was middle-aged and wore a business suit. A gold watch was clamped around his fat wrist. Wealthy. Just a little more pressure and I can end a life, in turn ruin a family and perhaps a corporation. Kill...
"Yer money and shit. Else a family loses their daddy," said the thief roughly. He pressed me against the sweaty flesh of our panicking victim. A motorbike roared by, effectively drowning any chances of us being overheard. Push me more. I could pierce this skin and baptize myself in his blood. Do it. Now!
"H-here man... Take it!" The businessman pulled out his wallet from his pants pocket and quickly handed it to his robber. He also unclasped his watch and shakily held it out.
"Yer a generous one," sneered the thief, grabbing the loot and stuffing it inside his jacket. He brusquely released his victim. To add insult to injury, he spat at the face of the now rumpled-suited man, who slid down the wall shaking in fright. I was quickly put away and we were off before any form of help was yelled.
And tonight, I was utilized only for intimidation, not for the purpose I longed for. Not tonight.
Perhaps another night will come for me. Until then, I shall be placed back in a kitchen drawer, waiting to be called forth once more for my services.
Preferably not for chicken.