Chainsaw Man Icon Novels & Stories

“It’s exactly what you think it is.” He chuckled and held his jacket open, showing the jangly letters and the picture of a chainsaw blade made to look like it was running him through from behind complete with garish red blood stains. “That it is,” he said with an impish smile, “We got a copy of that one in if you want it.”

The cut was black leather in color with the white stitched patches which included the gang's name itself in full view as it draped along the chair. The emblem of a vicious howling black wolf with white eyes and snarling teeth bordered around a bright white moon with the name HOWLER MC. written in stitch form around the visual. The bearded man glanced at his cut and continued to make his way toward the brightly lit bathroom as the sun had burst through the small window above the shower and illuminated the entire room causing him to wince from the view once he stepped inside while his eyes adjusted to his newly lit surroundings.

I asked. Instead of an answer, the chained man grinned at me, and I saw his elongated canines. I raised my stake, knowing what he was. There was a whoosh of air before he disappeared before my very eyes. The chains hung loosely. I looked around, frantically searching for him, and felt a cold presence behind me. I spun, but it was too late as he pounced on me, his fangs baring at me, and my scream echoed around the place.

he asked silently, but there was no answer. Sitting alone in his room, Dean held Chen's iPad. He slowly typed in the last digits of his phone number as the password. The screen unlocked in an instant, revealing an image that left him frozen. It was a familiar scene—an image of Chen’s tattooed arm and his back as he sat on a desolate island beach. The picture was quiet and solitary, carrying an indescribable weight that struck Dean’s heart deeply.

"The Eryndor story." With his instincts on high alert, Dominick tensed up. "And why should we have faith in you?" The man's voice was firm despite the panic in his eyes as he said, "Because I've fought him before." "I can also assist you." "Who are you?" Chelsea inquired in a doubtful tone. After a moment of hesitation, the man opened his frayed shirt to display a jagged scar over his chest. The group let out a collective gasp. A twisted, ancient symbol that pulsed dimly with black energy was marked on the scar.

I am thankful he let me listen to that song. “Thank you… I almost forgot about those important details.” I bluntly said. He moves closer messing my hair making me grunt and gesture my hand, sliding it vertically to my neck. It’s a warning not to mess with my hair. “Oh… the tiger is now back.” I never mind what he was saying. I just focus on my drawing; maybe it will help me to find them. I picture out the tattoo I see on that bastard's left chest. It’s the only thing I can hold to find that tattoo. I draw a wolf eating the full moon looking up…maybe to praise the Moon Goddess or the opposite meaning? Devouring?

The lively guy stops shaking their hands like he was taken aback from a sudden question, and continues, "Ah, I forgot, they called me Zhi, not an alphabet letter 'Z' but 'Z-h-i', I'm Zhi. Nice to meet you, hope you will take care of me." Because of his jolly character, the atmosphere becomes one too. He has black long hair in a shoulder level for a boy, a neat small braid on his left side is tied to the back along with a knot. His fringe has an orange highlight that makes it even more beautiful. His looks are quite feminine, a pretty boy. He was also not so tall, and a guy expert in bow weapon in a moment of fighting awhile ago.

Sabastian POV There really isn’t a symbol I hate more. I try crushing it with my palm, but all that happens is the symbol imprinting on my skin. Helios mark. Fucking perfect. I pocket the chain for now, the evidence I need to show everyone else exactly who the Savagemoon pack are. I phase past the wooden fence, coming into the grounds of the pack. Voice chatter as people light fire in torches and a bonfire sits in the centre as the pack gathers around.

She was upset that I didn't recognize her, and seemed deeply upset when I pushed her arms away and stared at her. Despite the simple black dress, the neckline was deep enough for the tattoo of his capital sin to be quite significant and easy to decipher. In the center of the small trunk was the image of a fat badger with his mouth wide open, where a small man fell into it. Around the animal, crosses, tombstones and flames spiralled over the woman's pale skin. The rest of the drawing was not noticeable enough for me to lose more than a few seconds staring, so I looked away when she also looked.