Doom Slayer Chainsaw Novels & Stories

I shout, voice deeper, heavier, threaded with heat. They turn, startle, and charge. The fire inside me answers before I can command it. My hands blaze, and from the flames, two chains unfurl, alive and furious. Each link glows molten gold, ending in blade-shaped mouths that snarl and snap like living beasts. I swing the first, and it slices through the air with a shriek, wrapping around an attacker’s torso. The second follows, biting into another’s shoulder before I yank, hard. They’re flung across the hall, crashing into the wall with bone-cracking force.

He released the two vampires he was swinging about; they went flying ever upward into the sky before disappearing. He summoned five rings of chains each one with sharp edges. He commanded his chains to spin about in such a way that it created a small translucent black dome with him and the bodies of the three dead beasts inside the dome. Not wasting a single second, he went on to extract the blood sacks from the beasts. Even as he did so, he saw vampires outside the dome arguing about something he couldn’t hear. The sound of the spinning chains was just too loud. Suddenly one vampire pushed another forward. The poor vampire slammed into the dome and was reduced to red mist and more.

I tilted my head, considering the options as I let my fingers trail over the cold metal of the chainsaw in my hand. For a brief second, I saw the hesitation in his eyes—the flicker of fear—but then he steeled himself, his expression hardening into defiance. “You can all go to hell,” he spat. “I’m not telling you anything.” I exhaled slowly, feigning disappointment. “Very well then. Suit yourself.” With an indifferent shrug, I gripped the chainsaw’s handle and yanked the cord. The engine roared to life, its sharp teeth glinting as I took a step toward him. The scent of burning fuel filled the air.

One by one, the monstrous faces bared their fangs and claws, swiftly pouncing toward Adrian and the others. Slash! Ash stepped forward, unsheathing his Doomcleaver with a clang. Instantly, many monsters and fiend slaves were killed on the spot. But the old man didn't care about his fiend slaves. His figure flickered, and strange black auras kept appearing. With each eruption, more fiend slaves materialized.

They simply thought Mommy and Daddy were overwhelmed with grief. "What are you saying? Of course, your son is inside. My condolences to you, sir. But you should just let the child go peacefully." Mommy rushed over, too. When her eyes landed on the nails, a choking sound came from her throat. She reached out and traced the nails with trembling fingers—cold, hard, and perfectly sealed. "A-Adam?" she whispered, her voice shaking. At that moment, everything went silent. The music paused, the crying stopped, and even the wind seemed to stop howling. The only sound left was the shifting earth.

Snapping my fingers, I activated the soundproof systems, and then the speakers, which blared a haunting Italian ballad. ♫ “È una catena ormai, che scioglie il sangue dint’e vene sai…” ♫ (It’s now a chain that melts the blood inside the veins, you know…). The bound man behind me mumbled incoherently as I perused the wall of tools, spiked whips, brass knuckles, chains. Piercing and crushing devices. I picked up an electric saw.

I sank my teeth into the flesh at the back of his neck, biting down with all the strength I had left. He roared in pain, his steps faltering, and threw me to the ground. I hit the dirt with a thud. “Change of plans,” he growled, his voice dripping with venom. “I’ll kill you instead.” He reached into his sock and pulled out a knife, its blade reflecting the moonlight as he freed it from its sheath. My eyes widened, terror gripping me as he advanced. I tried to crawl backward, but the chains held me fast, tangling around my limbs like a snare.

“That’s it? Oh no, mother! I think you need to scream much louder! Chains of Agony!” As the shadows dispersed, silver colored chains shot up from the ground and held her down. I could see the uneasiness in her face. Yes. Be afraid of me! I want you to be terrified! “Make her scream louder!” I shouted sadistically. “I’m about to tear you limb from limb, you fucking traitor.” I motioned for a chain to rip her arm off.

Once he did, the Darkscale looked even more excited and yanked the chains for Caleb to hit the chains. "So that's why it can't leave the lake to chase us. The ward was sealing it," Caleb murmured, raising the Dharmic Cutter and swinging it viciously at the chains tied to the ward. Clang! A portion of the chains shattered audibly from just a single hit. "Skree!" The Darkscale looked even more excited and kept yanking at the chains, gesturing for Caleb to keep breaking the chains. Clang! Clang! Clang! As Caleb kept swinging, the chains were finally completely shattered.

The utility closet door doesn't creak. Damian doesn't tolerate human failures like squeaky hinges. He buys silence. I'm holding the Syndicate harvester by her ankles. Her skin has already gone waxy, the fight-heat draining from her body, replaced by the cooling-mutton chill of the recently dead. The silver threads in my forearms are retracting now, pulling back into the shadows of my blood, but they leave a hollow, gnawing ache in the marrow—the metabolic invoice for a Tier 1 kill.