Black Chainsawman Novels & Stories

He heavily breathed before blazing his now crimson eyes at Pedro. Taking hold of the chainsaw once more, Pedro smirked, turning it on as he stood at the man's face. " Adios amigo," And that was it, the mysterious man waited, his head calculating his own moves but he waited...he waited till the chainsaw was now close to his skin, he waited till it had begun to slice through his thick skin, until his bluish pool of blood began to drip. Pedro's face twitched in confusion, seeing the blue droplets of the man's blood, his confusion was the distraction the mysterious man needed so he striked.

CHAPTER 159 ~3RD PERSON'S POV~ Have you heard about the blacksmith? A man whose hammering echoes again and again in the deepest, darkest part of Mystic Meadow. His eyes were red as blood, and his face was permanently etched with anger. He is surrounded by darkness, hatred, pain, and a desire for revenge. The only light he sees every day is the light of the sparks that fly off the metal after each strike of his hammer. These sparks are the only beautiful things he owns; these sparks keep him from going insane, and these sparks remind him that one day he'll come for those who hurt him.

Their Senior Brother Graham was strong but he was slightly weaker than the masked man. “109!” The masked man turned to one side and stopped his attack. He pulled the machete out of the corpse puppet’s body and the black-colored blood trickled down along the blade. There seemed to be lightning flashing above the blade with a crackling sound. The black blood was burned as the lightning was released and crackled with the released heat. With a loud bang, the 109th corpse puppet directly fell on the ground and dust flew all over the place.

A shadow ran into the forest. "Is anyone there?" He calls out, there was no response. "Answer me goddammit." He cursed, getting annoyed at the expensive joke he thought one of the students were playing on him. He heard the bush rattle, he shone the flashlight to the direction, walking slowly, he gasps as the flashlight points at a man holding an axe, frightened, Peterson dropped the flashlight and started walking backward slowly as the man stepped out of the bush, wearing all black, he stood before Peterson, Peterson noticed he had a claw like scar in his left chin.

He staggered back, hands clutching his face, blood pouring between his fingers. "She stabbed me!" he howled, his voice feral. "She stabbed me with a damn nail!" I didn’t wait, fueled by adrenaline, I yanked, hard, and the rusted metal chains snapped like it had just been waiting for me to try. A flash of pain tore through my shoulder, but I didn’t stop. I turned and bolted, sprinting into the trees. "Don’t let her get away!" the leader roared. Behind me, I heard the distinct sounds of bones cracking, fabric tearing, shifting. The men were turning, falling to all fours. Snarls echoed as paws hit the forest floor.

This solved all the prior problems, but the rest of the armor could be stronger had it not used most of the energy making up for shortcomings. Wanton Destruction was already in front of Xasha, slamming down with a Stone hammer on his head. Xasha flipped his hand and a black scythe appeared. He swung up and cut the stone hammer clean in two. The shock wave from the hammer left a crater in the ground and forced Xasha back.

I let out a choke before laughing a little at the air on my lungs are slowly decreasing. "Haha..." My laugh was cut short. "I suggest you shut up, your death will be painless." I look at him blankly and smirk. "I said... it sucks... to be you!" I screamed as I tightened my grip on his wrist. Soon as I spoke dozens of black chains grew up from the ground. Like a snake it tangled him, warping on his legs, body, and arms. "What?!" he shouted in surprise and confusion. An in a split second, a sharp black object penetrated at the center of his chest.

This woman had bewitched him and had made him lose control in a way he had never experienced before. He watched her walk away to her room with their little babbling angel in her arms. He wished to spend more time with them but unfortunately Trayaksh had his own business meetings and matters to handle, especially the man who was trying his best to win over the new business deal and snatch it from Trayaksh. The fucker as Trayaksh loves to call him, Abhimanyu Shekhawat, his most hated enemy. Trayaksh hates that man with a passion and can't wait to see Abhimanyu's reaction once he grabs this new deal from the grasp of Abhimanyu.

And then he came. A figure emerged from the smoke like a creature out of one of those old nightmare stories whispered by kitchen fires, only that this one was real. The closer he stepped, the more my chest locked. The flames behind him made him look almost inhuman, his silhouette outlined in fire and shadow, framed by warriors moving in practiced formation. Kane Blackwood. Of course, I didn’t know his name yet, but I knew his power. You didn’t need a title to recognize a storm.

The silver chain didn't just break; it detonated. A massive shadow, blacker than the darkest reach of the woods, tore through the violet haze. Rhys was a four-legged engine of absolute slaughter. He hit my attacker before the man could even blink, a single sweep of his massive paw sending the raider's body spinning into a tree like a broken doll. It was no longer a battle. It was a harvest.