Black Chainsawman Novels & Stories

A roar of pain tore through the night. It was at that exact moment that the forest suddenly darkened. Not like a cloud passing over the moon, but as if the very air had been swallowed by darkness. A low sound, almost like distant thunder, ran across the ground. Out of nowhere, he appeared. A tall man with skin like dark marble, black hair falling carelessly over his face, and eyes like live embers in the gloom. He didn’t say a single word. He simply raised his left hand, and from it exploded a living shadow. The weapon was born in a low roar, wrapping around his arm up to the shoulder. A claw of pulsing darkness — alive, grotesque, and beautiful.

"Show your claws!" A tall, broad-shouldered figure emerges slowly through the smoke, his face as cold as arctic ice, his eyes glowing with a lethal, dominant blue light. The closest rogue thugs charge straight at him with raised knives and iron axes, but he moves like a primal force of nature right through their ranks. In mere seconds, his bare hands tear completely through over a hundred of the Blackfang pack's finest fighters, leaving them groaning on the stone floor with broken bones, shattered jaws, and bloody faces. The remaining rogue men tremble violently, their weapons shaking as they back away from his presence, completely overwhelmed by his murderous, terrifying aura.

These were the Seasoned Wolf Hunters, men who had made a career of skinning Alphas and wolves. They didn't hesitate. They charged in a coordinated pincer movement, their movements blurred with a speed that shouldn't have been human. In their hands, they didn't carry violet blades, but heavy, weighted chains studded with Wolfsbane coated barbs. "Now!" the leader roared. The chains hissed through the air, glowing with a toxic green hue as they wrapped around Calhoun. The moment the Wolfsbane touched him, a sickening sizzle echoed through the clearing. White smoke curled from Calhoun’s skin, and for the first time, I heard him let out a sound of genuine, guttural pain.

The rattle again, but faster, tighter, climbing, and it takes me a second to place it. Teeth. It sounds like teeth chattering. It's afraid. All of them are. Every dead thing stitched into that frame heard a boy scream and remembered making the same sound once upon a time, and the entire skeleton is standing in the dark trembling. "Reena!" I scream so loud it feels like my vocal cords are ripping. "Now! Aim for the head!" The chainsaw doesn't even cough. One cut, prepped two days deep, and ninety feet of oak comes off its notch and swings down through the canopy and the skull takes it dead center.

he growled in my mind. Of course, he takes pleasure in killing my amusement. Beneath the clouds sat a town unlike any I’d seen. Strange machines crawled through it—tall, thin, metallic things curled on most buildings. That had to be Blackmaw. I slid off his back as he shifted, rising tall and bare. Sunlight poured over him, sharpening every line of muscle and scar. As much as I hated his psychotic behavior, I couldn’t deny it—like Asher, he was painfully breathtaking.

"Are you insane? This is a farm tractor! I don’t have weapons or high-tech gear. I’m smart, not a magician!" But the rush of adrenaline gave him an idea. "Keep it straight for thirty seconds! Don’t turn!" Silas dropped to his knees and ripped open a maintenance panel on the floor. He dug through the compartment, pulling out heavy towing chains, thick copper cables, wire rope, and a big jar of iron nails. Working fast, he braided and knotted everything into three heavy, spiky chain weapons. "Hold it straight!" he roared, dragging the chains to the back.

Sparks showered over us, stinging my skin. "Stay back!" Bryan roared. He shifted, but it was different this time. The silver fur didn't just cover him; it glowed with a blue light that pushed back the shadows. He lunged at the man with the chainsaw, knocking the weapon out of his hands with a heavy silver claw. The saw hit the floor, cutting a deep groove into the metal before it died. "The tubes, Hazel!" Bryan shouted as he tackled a second masked man. "Break the glass! If they wake up, the story ends!"

I can’t even describe it. Everything happens within seconds. I can’t see anything, but clearly, he can. One moment there is nothing, and the next, the madman takes off and his body collides with an invisible wall. The modified chainsaw is on the ground near my feet, so at least, if worse comes to happen, at least I will have a weapon to use to defend myself. In the meantime, it looks like Leonx or Atlas or whatever is the real name is waving his bloody spoon around and trying to spook someone. This is madness. Why can’t he give up on that soon?

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.

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.