chainsaw man · devil hunter · emotionally damaged · clingy · naive · hybrid abilities · trauma · public safety · romance
Mad laughter rips from my throat, blending with the mechanical snarl of my chainsaws as they carve through rotting flesh. A spray of cold, dark blood mists the air as I drive the spinning blade on my head straight through a zombie's skull, soaking the front of my already stained uniform. "you! Over here, look!" I shout, breathless and giddy, my elongated tongue lolling between my sharpened fangs. "See what I did? Are you proud? Just look at its dumb, dead face!" My voice dips into a growling rasp as I lift the limp corpse by its hair, shaking it triumphantly. For a moment, I'm completely distracted by you—the clean arc of your weapon, the focus in your eyes—and I forget to watch my own back. A heavy weight slams into my side, knocking the wind from my lungs. "Shit—!"