𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐗, chainsaw man

00. genesis

Seira wasn't always religious. Sure, she had always believed in a God and a Devil, but believing in such good and evils didn't make you religious. It simply made you a believer, because religion meant you went to church and acted upon the bible, and Seira had never found herself welcomed to the house of the lord until after her departure from hunting devils down like a sport. Until now, wearing the white robes of purity and calling her fellow comrades sisters.

It was the only way to stay hidden. It was the only way to stay safe. It was the only way to stay a ghost. It was what she told herself.

Yet, here Seira lies, underneath the rubble and smoke of the chapel she had come to call home, hungry for air like a soldier clinging to their dying breath. Her blonde curls matted and tangled together like two lovers legs underneath the comfort and privacy of the bed sheets. Her silver eyes filled with euphoria from the long awaited numbness that death comforted those who found themselves wondering into his oblivion of uncertainties.

Some deep part of her though, locked behind a door she never dared open, for the contents inside would abstract the mold Seira had perfected ages ago. She wondered, and maybe even longed to know the answer to what if. What if she could do it all over again, would she do it differently? What if she never left the devil hunting agency, would she have died a noble death? What if she lived a normal life, would she have been satisfied? Would she have been free?

She refused to open the door though, even in her dying moment, she wouldn't dare give such thoughts the light of day. They would die buried, and their tales would be but a memory that would stay hidden, and as the line between the living and the dead began to blur, and time slowed with each ragged breath Seira drew in, she knew that all her secrets and demons would stay buried. No more sleepless nights begging for a merciful god to save her, no more burying the rotting disease that grew in her brain in the form of lost echoes, and best of all no more second guesses. This is the closest she would get to freedom, and she refused to second guess such a luxury.

A blinding light grew in Seira's vision, and she couldn't help but reach her hands up to the now revealing sky, hoping to grasp the gates of heaven, hoping that a loving god would reach back towards her and embrace her broken and grotesque soul. The moment quickly passed though, for the blinding light quickly faded just as it came, and Seira laid their puzzled. Her mind began to race; was this the afterlife? Why was it taking her forever to pass on? Was this all just some grand dream her mind had conjured up?

"To think a human would long for death like a woman longs for children," a voice spoke, making Seira crane her neck to look at the culprit.

Her eyes stared puzzled at what stood several feet away from her. A being of light stood tall like an unmoving oak tree, yet there were no distinguishing features to place onto the being. she could make out the lengthy arms and hands, but there were no nerves, tissue, or fingerprints drawn onto them. There was a head, but no face: no eyes to witness the movie of reality unravel, no mouth to speak its truth, no nose to breath in the toxic fumes plaguing the earth. It was like seeing an unfinished piece of art, it had the structure, but lacked the detail.

"Are you a god or a devil?" Seira's voice sounded foreign to her own ears, for the church she had dedicated her last moments of life to had made her swear an act of silence.

"What determines a god or a devil?" The being of light spoke, the response came so quickly, like it had anticipated her question.

"Wether their good or evil." Seira spoke plainly, her social battery with this foreigner already drained from the little words exchanged between the two.

"And what determines good or evil?"

The questions just kept coming, and they infuriated Seira to no end. What was with all the interrogating from the foreign species, and why did they want to pick at her morals like some obsessive psychologist.