Chainsaw Man Eye Patch Woman Novels & Stories

"Kian." Chance flashed me a grin. "We'll have to change that, but it'll do for now." He turned to the woman whose blue eyes raked up and down me with something that resembled pity. She shook whatever thoughts she had away, giving a prolonged blink before popping her gum, sucking it back inside her glossy red lips, and then smoothing down her peroxide-blonde hair. "You want it cut short to the scalp like the others?" She cocked a questioning brow to Chance.

I squint, my eyes blurry with tears. It's a woman, wearing a black T-shirt and shorts. Where did she come from? She can't be the wolf... how is she dressed if she just shifted back? She's kneeling over the man on the floor. No, she can't be the massive wolf. The man on the floor is also wearing shorts, his T-shirt being shredded by the woman. I watch as she ties it around his abdomen, securing it over the open wound. Then she pauses, pulls off her own T-shirt, and uses that too, wrapping it tightly over the first to build pressure. Only then does she reach into the bag and pull out a bandage, winding it around the makeshift dressing to hold it all in place.

I switch on while Will tinkers with his phone, then a few seconds later, an image opens up: recognisably Baxter, arm-in-arm with a woman. She's maybe five-six, medium build, figure good but not spectacular. The hair is mid-brown, straight and shoulder-length. Her face is largely hidden behind huge sunglasses, but what is visible is highly made-up: the lips a deep crimson, skin both high and low-lighted to emphasise the chin and cheekbones.

The blonde one sitting close to the only source of light in the room, a little opening in the window, and she looked up at me with a death stare. Her uniform was ripped at the knees. A tattoo of a snake wrapped around her elbow, and a scar on the left side of her face. Her eyes were cold and hard, but I could see loneliness in them. The third was plain woman with brown hair and she didn't take a second glance at me, but rather focused on the hard, cold floor. Staring at it like there was a movie she was watching on the ground.

A woman in the middle of the crowd wore a black leather jacket with a crossbow behind her, giving her an extremely dominant look; she looked like a femme fatale. The narrow and long eyes on her exquisite face squinted at Wes with malicious intent.

Internally I’m buzzing with excitement as we leave the campus and make our way towards the dodgy inn. Exiting the forest we can see that the Night Hawk is in the middle of open grounds. It is impossible to approach it without being seen. Nervously we open the door and enter. Taking of the hoods of our capes we catch a couple of glances but nobody halts their conversations to actually stare. Behind the bar there’s a woman with grey hair, almost white. It’s put up in a tight grey bun. When she turns to face us I see her left eye is covered by an eye patch. The right eye is a rich dark brown.

The woman looking back is still wearing hospital-bruised skin and borrowed clothes and the wreckage of one very bad night. But her eyes. Her eyes are different. I pick up the Tommaso name like a weapon. And I smile.

"You look as beautiful as ever. Did you get a haircut? It looks incredible on you, really brings out the bloodlust in your eyes." The top half of the short woman's hair was pinned back in at least a hundred small braids, and she had tattoos covering every inch of her arms. "You slept with my cousin, Paxton." Her look of distaste faded when her eyes landed on me and, instead, filled with curiosity.

I don't think there's anyone inside because it's not locked. But one room caught my attention. It was closed and I heard the sound of a chain inside. My brows meet together and peeked through its hole. I saw a woman with curly hair, the chains is on her hands. She is not a werewolf or a vampire, her skin does not burn on silver chains.

The response from my query was nothing but a manic laughter and it was honestly exasperating to hear her laugh. “You are really a fool, aren’t you?” The voice approached me subsequently pulling the sack out of my head. It took a while for my eyes to adjust from the brightness. When I managed to get a clear vision, I saw the woman who looked like she’s around her early forty’s and she was staring at me stricken with such disgust. She doesn’t look familiar at all but I was quick to spot a scar around her neck. It looked like it was from a claw. There’s another younger woman behind her probably around the age of late twenty’s, she was sporting a pixie cut that really showed how round her face w