Denji woke up with a start. He tried to lift his head but couldn't ,his head, legs, and hands were bound to the bed with chains, and his neck was strapped down against the mattress.
He steadied his breath, forcing himself to inhale slowly, evenly ,until the memory of Pochita came rushing back. "Waaah… Pochitaaaa…"
Tears began pouring from his eyes as he struggled to rise. "Pochita, don't leave me!" Denji screamed, collapsing back onto the rough iron bed. He bit his lips hard to suppress the terror and grief. Calm down… all you have to do is feed him some blood and he'll come back… b-but…
He shut his eyes tight, remembering Pochita's face—and imagining what have pochita went through while he was peacefully sleeping
Then the door creaked in the room, making Denji's heart pound in an instant as if by instinct. Denji closed his eyes.
The sound of the shoe drew closer until its owner blocked the light that hung on the ceiling directly above Denji; even with his eyes shut he felt something cut the reflection of the light, sweat pouring from his face.
"Waaaah—Pochita, don't leave me!" the owner of the shadow shouted in a mocking tone, as if on the verge of laughter. "You know, Denji, I'm not deaf, and this room isn't soundproof."
In an instant Denji snapped his head up and lunged to bite Rem's face, but Rem leaned back so Denji's teeth barely grazed his nose. "Whoa… haha, don't start biting people now, boy. I know you're eager to become a devil, but have some patience."
"I swear I'll kill you — I swear, Rrrrrrem!" Denji snarled, exploding with rage and trying to attack again, but the chains held him fast.
"Yesss! Yesss!" Rem shouted with perverse excitement. "Hatred, murderous intent, baseness, violence… Denji, you truly are a devil at heart."
Denji's eyes widened in terror at Rem's mad gaze making his tears spill again.
"NOOOO NOOO DEVILS DONT CRYY DOOOONT CRRYYYY. CONTROLLL YOURSELF."
"Y-you said you'd be my dad! You liar — I hate you I wish you'd die!" Denji spat while he cried
*But you said you'd be my dad * Denji's cries echoed in rem brain which made his expression darken. Was he doing the right thi-
Before he could finish thinking, Rem drove his finger into his own right eye with brutal force too deep in his frontal lobe that it disappeared from view making
The grusome sight and blood splattered at his face made denji go quiet quickly
. Denji didn't hear any scream from Rem not even a flinch ; Rem withdrew his hand slowly — his finger came away coated darkly with blood and other fluid
Rem exhaled as he wiped the blood on his cloths oddly calm. "Hah… boy, Denji, congratulations — you're the first to make me hesitate for a moment. Keep that in mind: I've killed members of my own family without feeling. Anyway, we'll start the procedure tomorrow"
He left the room quickly, leaving Denji staring directly at the light in the ceiling in shock then tears started flowing slowly
_____
After two hours, Denji began to realize that crying would get him nowhere—that his survival now depended solely on his mind. No one was coming to save him. The only way out was to escape.
The first thing he needed to do was free himself from the chains binding him to the iron bed.
Luckily, the chain around his neck was weaker than the others—slightly loose, as if the wall behind it had started to erode. With enough forceful pulling, it might break.
But the real problem was his legs — the restraints there were as solid as steel. To free himself, he'd have to break them… or break himself.
He could shatter his hands, tear through skin and bone until they slipped free—but he knew that would leave him too crippled to do what he needed to do, maybe even bleed him to death.
The choices before him were as clear as crystal:
Either sacrifice his legs to try and save Pochita…
Or stay here, waiting for Rem to come and mutilate him to death.
Denji took a slow breath.
'If I have to die… then let it be while trying to save my friend.'
Then, in a moment of despair that twisted into pure madness, Denji began to yank the chain violently, lifting his head again and again until the wall started to crack with a muffled sound—then suddenly collapsed. The chain snapped back and fell onto the the ground, freeing his neck
Then He raised his head slowly, breathing heavily, his eyes scanning the room—it was almost empty. Nothing but the iron bed he lay on and a small metal chair beside it, coated in rust.
He shut his eyes for a moment, gathering what strength he had left, then began to wrench his hands violently against the cuffs. The bed rattled under his body with each movement, and the sound of metal grinding against flesh filled the room. Little by little Blood began dripping from his wrists onto the cold floor.
Bit by bit, the metal band started to slide upward, tearing skin and pulling bits of flesh with it. The pain was unbearable, but he didn't stop—every gasp, every muffled cry brought him closer to freedom... and finally, after a long, torturous struggle, came the last pull—a horrific moment where his thumb nails were slowly torn from their roots before the cuffs finally slipped free from his hands.
Denji exhaled a long, trembling sigh, collapsing back on the iron bed, his hands shaking violently. His thumb fingers, twisted and swollen from passing through the cuffs, looked deformed fused together withthe index as if the bone had melted beneath the skin but he was just unable to move them because every nerve inside was basically ruptured —but there was no time to think about it. The hardest part was still ahead… his legs.
The only method that came to mind was grotesque but realistic—he had to bite through the flesh of his legs until he reached the bone, then use the sharp edge of the bedframe to break it.
Just imagining it made him feel sick. He turned his head for a moment, trying to keep himself together, but the image in his mind was too vivid: the flesh, the bone, the sound, the pain.
* Gulp *
He swallowed hard
.
Then, he placed his mouth on his leg and began to bite with every ounce of strength he had left—but the pain was beyond comprehension. No matter how hard he bit, he couldn't tear through the flesh—his own mind stopped him each time before his teeth sank deep enough.
He shut his eyes tightly, tears streaming down his face, mixing with the taste of blood in his mouth. Rage, helplessness, and fear collided inside him, bursting all at once.
He screamed at the top of his lungs, "POCHITAAAAA!!!"
And then he lunged at his leg with savage fury—his fingers digging into the flesh, his nails plunging deep until they hit the roots, blood splattering in every direction. The sound of tearing meat and nerves filled the room; some of his nails snapped and stuck in the wound, but Denji didn't stop—he no longer had the luxury of turning back.
All he cared about now was saving his friend from that vile devil, even if it meant dying in the process
.
When Denji finally felt his fingertip graze the bone, he stopped, gasping in agony, his face drenched in blood and sweat. He turned his gaze toward his other leg, reached for it with trembling hands—but then he remembered, his nails were gone—ripped out completely.
He groaned, breath hitching with pain, then lunged at his other leg with blind determination… but froze halfway through.
His eyes widened in shock—Rem's head was peeking through the door now wearing an eye patch watching him in dead silence.
Rem spoke in a calm, cold tone, stepping toward him with quiet, deliberate steps, as if walking over shards of glass:
"Denji… are you being bad boy again?"
He walked then He stopped in front of him, expression utterly devoid of emotion, and continued in that same disgustingly calm voice:
"I don't understand… why does a creature like you with basically no worth fight so viciously " he said pointing at his legs in disgust " for a filthy life like the one you had with the yakuza? Becoming a devil would be a blessing for you, believe me. But in the end… your answer doesn't matter. You'll become what I want you to be—whether you like it or not."
Denji shut his eyes, tears mixing with the blood smeared across his face, whispering weakly,
"I'm sorry… Pochita…"
Then he looked up at Rem with desperate, trembling eyes, his voice breaking like a child begging for mercy:
"Please…please mister Rem… why are you doing this to us what did i ever do to you if i did anything bad to you then im really sorry im sorry please forgive me- no please if it makes you feel better then kill me and let pochita go please mister please"
Rem leaned forward slowly, staring at Denji's mangled leg with eyes devoid of any pity, and said with a chilling, frozen tone:
"Come now, don't be a nuisance, my boy. In your condition, you've got half an hour—maybe less—before you bleed out. So why waste time?"
"HELP MEEEEE! PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP MEEEEE!" Denji screamed with every bit of life left in him—a sharp, piercing cry that tore through the room:
What answered him was a hysterical laugh from Rem that quickly twisted into a scream of mockery that imitatied denji howls
"Aaaah! Aaah! Waaaah! Gggggghhh!"
Then Rem clenched his teeth hard, grinding them as he pressed his hand down on Denji's mutilated leg. Denji gasped and his eyes flew wide open in agony.
"Gaaaaah! M-mom! Pochita! Someone help me!!! Please, help meeeeee!!" tried to jump off the bed
"Aaaaah! Aaaaah!" Rem kept mocking Denji's cries, and then suddenly, he reached out and grabbed his head clamping his hand over Denji's mouth, silencing him. Leaning closer, his face only inches away, he smiled faintly " shhhhhhhh
Denji tried to resist, but his hands went numb—and his consciousness drowned into darkness.
____________
Rem cut Denji's feet with steady, unflinching hands—no hesitation, no mercy. The act of maiming his adopted son left no visible trace on Rem's cold face. When he finished, he began stitching the wounds quickly, trying to stop the bleeding. The sutures were rough—one leg was far more mangled than the other because of the injuries Denji had inflicted on himself—but Rem didn't care. He was not a man after perfection; he cared only about results.
When the bleeding stopped, Rem implanted some medical pins into the amputated stumps to prevent further leakage, then reached for a long, gleaming knife on the small table. He ran it along Denji's skin in a straight line, opening a space large enough to insert a saw blade.
At that moment a voice—cold and emotionless—sounded in his head: "The Chainsaw Man has no saws in his feet."
A small smile creased Rem's mouth, and he replied with dry sarcasm, "Oh, Lil D welcome… you say that now? Maybe you could've told me before I cut his feet."
He continued sewing quickly, his stitches chaotic, leaving the amputated leg looking more like a butchered piece than anything human.
Lil Death ignored his remark and said flatly, "The Chainsaw Man has four arms—each with a chainsaws. And there's another one at the front of his head."
"Whoa, whoa, hold on… I have to replace his heart first, or he'll bleed to death before we finish anything," Rem said as he slit Denji's chest open with a small knife, cutting slowly.
"I'll repeat the curious question I asked you earlier, even though I know you can't answer anyway—why would someone like you, someone granted the honor of changing his classification as a living being into something purer, want to return to his previous worthless life? A lifeless existence; a filthy stray boy working for a gang filthier than himself, paying off imaginary debts, wishing to go back to that miserable life? Haaah…"
Rem sighed as he held Pochita's body, which looked like a beating heart, resting atop the small table then rem put pochita inside of denji chest then
He continued"My name... the name 'Rem' is short for Remembrance , the devil with whom I made a contract in Hell named me that. I don't know why, but from his conversations over the years I concluded that I am not the original body; I am a spirit that entered the body of a young boy who once had a bright future: top of his class, proud parents were confident he would reach great heights in this world that humans and devils have smeared with their filth.
But I never understood them; they relied on the owner of this body in a sick, pathological way. The parents worked like slaves nine hours a day so their lineage wouldn't die out like dogs in some alley, only so their company boss could grow richer while they increased the cruelty toward their son. Their greatest concern was to make that poor boy's life a living hell so they could retire and hang on to his body like parasitic worms. So... I killed them all, even his siblings who had been mere spectators in his life. I did not want those worms to be associated with me in any way , shape or form
And from that day I realized that all humans are slaves to something… the parents of this body were slaves to their company boss, the police who raided my home because of my murder were merely instruments carrying out orders from above, his classmates were no different — slaves to their teachers and to their filthy desires.
But the worst of them all was the owner of this body himself… he obeyed his parents without protest, he apologized to his bullies even as they beat and humiliated him, and even when it went beyond that to sexual assault — when things were put in his mouth that no human mouth should ever have to hold , he was never treated as a human being, but as a thing to be used, body and mind. He stayed bowed, submissive, clinging to the illusion of obedience as if it were the only thing he owned.
Just thinking that I inhabit such a body makes me feel disgusted… to the point of revulsion at my very existence.
If I could, I would have ripped out the eyes of the owner of this body, torn him to pieces, and buried him in a common animal grave — I would have. " Rem sighed as he tried to choke back his anger, his fingers trembling, then he sighed again. "And let's not talk about devils — those hellish monkeys don't even deserve to breathe the same air, even compared to the lowliest of humans."
He bit the thread with his mouth; his stained fingers left a smear at his lip. Looking down at Denji's sleeping face, Rem added coldly: "So Denji… who are the 'pure ones'? They are the hybrid devils. They carry both the darkness of devils and the craft of humans—feelings and concepts that define the world. They are true free beings: laws mean nothing to them. They do as they please—kill, destroy, terrorize whenever they want. Their filthy, possessive, devilish urges don't chain them; the servility and baseness that plague humans are gone from them entirely. You will be like them ...soon"
---
Screams echoed through the great mansion as a thunderstorm ripped the sky. Lightning and ragged breaths mixed into a howl of unbearable agony.
Denji crawled across the blood-slick floor, dragging his mangled body forward. He was stitched together in dozens of places—the crude handiwork of Rem. Four arms hung from his sides: two lifeless, gray arms sewn beneath his armpits, and two upper ones ending in chainsaw blades where flesh and bone should've been. The metal was half-charred, fused back into his body with melted tissue, grotesquely reattached as if forced to stick their. The upper arms still twitched faintly, holding a dim spark of life like the body itself hadn't yet decided whether it was living… or already dead.
"Hah… hah… hah," Denji gasped, breath ragged, eyes wide with shock and pain, caught between life and death
A saw had fused with his skull; the surrounding scalp was singed and hardened to stick it in place and blood seeped slowly from small openings around the saw's base an unnatural, mechanical horror was forced deep into his brain
Rem entered the room with a wide, proud smile. "hello there mister chainsaw man" he greeted his voice mockingly calm." I apologize for incomplete form i had no saw left to attach to you hahhahahhah ! "
Denji's torn cries answered: "Haaah… haaah…" He screamed without control, drooling, trembling on the blood-stained floor.
Rem approached slowly, placed a hand on his head, and patted him like a wounded animal. "It's okay… let it out," he said, then turned and left the room. Denji's sobs continued in faltering gasps—rage, pain, and tears colliding.
Rem returned minutes later carrying two corpses an old man with no arms and an emaciated old woman both were decaying and were filled with maggots. He placed them before Denji and said with a cold smile, "Since you haven't eaten since our journey began I present to you the original owners of this mansion." He nodded at the decaying bodies of the old couples. "Bon appétit , monsieur Chainsaw Man."
Rem spoke his final phrase and left the room, slamming the door shut. He paused, bent down and peered through the keyhole, curious whether Denji would eat " cmon son eat it " He whisperd but denji didn't touch the corpses. He had crawled away from them in fear " noooooo ! " rem whispered That hint of remaining humanity made him frown; then he reopened the door.
The stench of rot and blood filled the room when Rem stepped back inside. He said, in a voice that mixed mockery with a touch of sorrow: "Denjiiii…" His voice trembled, as if he mourned whatever humanity was left inside that creature
Rem asked, "Why are you so stubborn?" with an odd sadness, approaching slowly. Denji recoiled and crawled trembling into a corner.
When Rem reached him he paused, staring long and heavy, then sat quietly beside the exposed, broken body. After a moment he lay down gently on Denji's back and sighed wearily.
"Is it because you've lost your human body?" he said, tired and mocking. "Honestly I'm tired im really tired chainsaw man. This curiosity in me is killing me slowly … which fool would want to be human?" He raised a hand to his face while the other patted Denji's head. "All my life I only saw humans as filth."
Suddenly Denji's breathing stopped; his eyes went blank. Rem's confusion made him shout into the silence, "Chainsaw Man are you there?" No answer. "Denji? Are you there?" No answer. "My boy?"
Then Denji gasped, drawing a shaky breath, and Rem exhaled in relief. "Damn, you scared me thought you were dead. Anyway come on." He grabbed Denji's hands.... or rather his chainsaw—and helped him to his feet. "We'll start from scratch. From now on I'll be your mother who helps you learn to walk." Denji managed to stand.
"Good boy," Rem smiled and walked with him slowly out of the room. In the parlor they paced in circles while Clair de Lune played in the background, the candles' light flickering on the walls that was stained with rem shadow, rats gathering around—some feeding on bits of flesh that had fallen denji, others just watching, ill-fated witnesses to Rem's handiwork.
Rem looked out at the red moon and thunderstorm. "It's a beautiful night to become a devil… don't you think, Denji?" he said, smiling.
Denji didn't answer. His knees buckled and his body slumped to the floor. Rem still held the saws for a moment, then closed his eyes.
"Goodbye, Denji," he whispered, letting go of the saws and walked towards the exit. "Tsk… what a waste of time."
And so ...Denji finally died.