Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Katsuki Bakugou △Goretober△

Requested by: strawpurry_official

[A/N]: My last Goretober oneshot was for Zack (Satsuriku No Tenshi), and is in my Anime One Shots Book!

Chainsaw, Cannibalism.

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The sickening sound of metal ripping into flesh, mixed in with your dreadful screams, echoed off the walls. Yet, the only individual within range was your most sadistic tormentor, and abusive lover, Katsuki. Why you remained by his side, through thick and thin, when all you received was emotional and physical torture, was still anyone's guess. Perhaps it was all the half-realised threats made on the fragile lives of your family members. Perhaps it was his inner warmth, which seeped into your veins and lulled you into a false sense of security. No matter the reason, one horrifying fact was currently being drilled into your skull: you were dying, being slaughtered like a sow on a farm. The chainsaw (that evil, vile contraption, which you had bought the explosive boy one year, as a birthday gift) was trailing along your sensitive skin, uprooting every vein and vital organ it encountered.

In your fast few moments of consciousness, you wondered why the Fates had forsaken you so terribly. Why? What reason did Katsuki have, for desiring your head? Why was he so hellbent on tearing your flesh, piece by piece, slowly and oh so painfully? During your lifetime, you had gained fractured ribs, a plethora of other broken bones, and light grazes from a few kitchen knives, among additional injuries. The metallic, vomit-inducing stench of blood - your own blood - was the last fragrance you ever inhaled, before a shadowy abyss seized you tightly; it refused to allow even a sliver of illumination.

"That's what you get, bitch!" The blonde yelled, crimson eyes glimmering with pride, as he admired his handiwork.

That terrifying chainsaw remained in Katsuki's iron-clad grip. He swung it around menacingly, although no soul was present to witness the act. His lips tugged upwards in a clown-like grin, before he elected to hack into your already-mutilated corpse. When his violent rush of adrenaline finally fizzled out, Katsuki took a minute to consider what he would do with your severed remains. He didn't suppose that throwing them out would be the most beneficial option, because someone was likely to discover them. So, shoulders sagging in abject boredom, he proceeded to compile the different parts into a haphazard heap. Glancing down, however, Katsuki's alluring scarlet orbs glinted with an unfamiliar spark. Bile bubbled in his throat, as he grew absolutely disgusted in himself. Was some dormant feeling of guilt, maybe even love, causing such atrocious thoughts?

It wasn't possible, he scolded himself; his mind had considered something unspeakable - unfathomable, even. Why? Why had his brain suggested to him, the tenderness of your flesh? The explosive blonde attempted to gather any last semblance of rationality, before he succumbed to those primal thoughts. He had, a mere moment ago, ended your sorry existence, but the concept of feeding on your remains seemed...a little too extreme, even for Katsuki.

Despite this somewhat-villainous moral code, Katsuki later found himself cradling various cuts of meat; he placed most in the fridge, while a slightly smaller piece (taken, no doubt, from your thigh) was thrown into a pan. Whilst awaiting his meal, Katsuki decided to dig up a section of his garden. He chucked your body, frigid from both the night air and lack of pumping blood, into the freshly-dug grave. Upon completing this rather arduous task, Katsuki checked on the meat, simmering away in the pan. He turned off the heat, grabbed some cutlery, and started his feast. The moment a single piece of dangling flesh entered his mouth, his tongue exploded from the overwhelming flavour. It tasted a little similar to chicken, but there was definitely a unique texture, and quality. Katsuki moaned quietly, as his entire body melted from the bliss.

Although, annoyingly, just as he had settled down to bask in the warmth which your meat bestowed upon his tongue, the doorbell rang. Abandoning his station, however hesitantly, Katsuki walked to the door. With great indignation, he flung it open, beholding none other than shitty-haired Kirishima.

"Hey, man!" The unsuspecting boy cheered, happily waving a hand. "I haven't seen you in ages! I figured you must be sick or something, to miss so many days of school."

Katsuki grunted, clearly displeased with the topic. "Like I'd get sick. Don't lump me in with the rest of you weaklings!"

Kirishima's grin only widened. "Haha, yeah! Eh...you haven't seen (L/n) lately, have you? She was off today, and I just thought that maybe, you being her boyfriend and all, you might have seen her?"

"Hah? I haven't seen her. Get lost, shitty hair." The blonde attempted to shut the door on his friend, yet a foot prevented this.

"Come on, man! Can I at least come in? Just for a minute!" Kirishima pleaded, clapping both hands together when Katsuki relented.

Two pairs of crimson eyes glanced around the ornately-decorated house, not looking for anything in particular. Since the kitchen was stained with a trail of blood, leading in from the garden, and Katsuki had, idiotically, left his meal on the table, it was quickly decided that this room would be avoided, at all costs. However, the uninvited guest apparently had a reservation in that specific area, because he derailed completely, and headed in that direction. Katsuki's irritated yells fell on deaf ears. The red-head definitely sensed that something was wrong - very wrong. For, his nose scrunched up, eyes beginning to sting; glassy tears threatened to parade down his cheeks.

That stench! It reeked! What on Earth smelled that bad? It was, he supposed, akin to the aroma of a decaying corpse...Laughing, although not quite as jovially as before, Kirishima processed that thought. It wasn't possible, right? Sure, the guy was extremely volatile, but he constantly spoke of rising to the top, and becoming the number one hero. Someone with such high aspirations and expectations couldn't possibly commit a foul deed, like murder, could they? Kirishima's thoughts failed to run deeper, for, in the midst of his contemplation, he neglected to realise that Katsuki had crept up behind him. A powerful blow to the head with a stray pan, sent the scarlet-haired hero-in-training into a dark dreamland, from which he was destined never to escape.

With two deceased classmates sleeping peacefully beneath the ground, Katsuki slunk back into the kitchen. A knife had been plunged into the crimson one's back, tearing out a chunk of flesh in the process. As Katsuki settled back in his chair, resuming that delectable meat, the thought crossed his mind, that at some point, he might disentomb the bodies. After all, such delicious comestibles couldn't simply be allowed to rot, could they? 

[Word Count: 1102]