Chainsaw Man Eye Patch Woman Novels & Stories

She leaned into the touch at once, her eyes fluttering closed as her head rested against my shoulder. I stayed like that, holding her, because this was what she needed. And because I needed it too. She felt small in my arms, light and warm, almost like I was holding a child instead of a woman who had just driven me mad hours ago. “I know I’ve asked before,” she said softly, her words loose with wine, “but can I see your eyes. Please. I want to see you without the eye patch.” I froze. My fingers tightened slightly against her back. That patch had been my shield for years. My armor. The thing that kept people from staring too long, from seeing what they always judged first.

The bright store lights had caught the woman's face clearly as she paid for her boots. It was a woman in her late forty's. She had short, graying dark hair, wide cheeks, and a small scar across her chin. She was not Nilah. She looked nothing like Nilah. My thumbs pressed into the paper. The white page ripped right down the middle, tearing the woman's face in two. "It's not her," I whispered. My voice was tiny. It was weak. The freezing wind blew the torn pieces of paper right out of my cold fingers, sending them tumbling away across the white snow.

Maybe both. “We should go… meet someone,” he said, gently tugging me as we moved toward a pair that had just arrived—an absolute mountain of a man and a smaller, younger-looking woman beside him. What was it with men at these events and looking like villainous versions of the Grinch? But this man was different; he had an eye patch, jagged scar cutting through the damaged eye, and a cane that he turned in along with his coat. The lady beside him though looked regal. Ethereal Even They both did. But in that detached, don't-touch-us kind of way.

The woman froze for a second before awkwardly bending down to pick them up. Her movements were stiff, like her legs and back couldn’t quite bend properly. From behind, Adora assumed she was pregnant and instinctively stepped forward to help. But the moment she straightened up and handed the items back, her eyes lifted, and she froze. The woman in front of her was none other than Ruby. She wore a black mask that covered most of her face, but her eyes were visibly swollen, her cheekbones bruised, and one arm was wrapped and in a sling across her chest.

We couldn't see who was behind it since the it obscured our vision for a moment. Until the it gradually dissipated and our vision became clearer. The bright purple hair is the first thing I notice, the dust finally settled back on the ground. It reveals a woman dressed in a black leather coat, white crop top with red smudges on it down to the exposed skin on her mid section. Even from this view, I very well know that it was blood. Finally, my gaze was drawn to her face, and I caught a glimpse of her infamous tattooed face. My gaze is now directed to the large screen that hung in every corner of the arena to examine the details of her image.

Her face was pale, her lips chapped and pinkish like she had been furiously chewing on it. She was handcuffed to her chair but her fingers weren’t any better. Bitten to the quick, they looked like she had picked and picked at them incessantly. Frankly speaking, there was something wrong with Chelsea. And her eyes. Jeez, her eyes looked so wild, Elena’s breath caught. Chelsea hadn’t spotted her yet but the look in the woman’s eyes made her blood run cold. “It’s best if you don’t look for too long,” Walter whispered with pity in his voice as the same time, the court door opened and Kim rushed out.

Not yet. I really should leave whilst I’ve got the chance. But as I’m sweeping the room I look back to the angry looking woman who’s sat beside the door. She has thick grey hair and vibrant green eyes. She’s in a wheelchair, a blanket across her knees and she looks furious about it. She’s also a Werewolf.

The woman trembled as she tried to cover her face with the scarf. But despite her attempt, the burnt flesh on her face was still visible. She was barely even recognizable and her left eye was already closed due to a scar. Her hands that hastily took the scarf to cover her face were also burnt. Minerva opened and closed her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. "Where was that bitch?!" An annoyed roar from a man could be heard. Afterward, a rustling sound was heard.

One of her fake blue eye contacts was missing, revealing for the first time, her true dark eye color in one eye. That one dark eye staring back at me held the most deranged, manic and unhinged emotions I had ever seen in my entire life. She looked like an absolute lunatic. Her bandage top was unraveling and in shreds, with one of her nipples literally exposed to the naked eye. There were red scratches all over her wet arms, down her torn skirt and wet legs, to her feet. She was not wearing any shoes, and there was mud stuck in her polished toe nails. It looked like she just escaped a tornado, and that only scared me even more. She had officially lost it. And the butcher knife she held in her

a woman snorted from the man snake’s lap “I’m planning on having many more after this. Chinese will not be my bloody last meal.” Flame looked at the woman resting her head against the snake’s chest while he cradled her in his arms. Her light pink hair was spiked into a mohawk, which brushed against his red cheek. The sides were shaven short and decorated with sharp swirls. Her right ear was pierced along the length of it, while her left remained untouched. Her light skin was only covered by a dark red top that barely came underneath her breasts. Her black denim shorts were ripped and frayed at the ends, ending just below her buttocks. I could see part of her black G-string poking out; the ma