„Mommy?" The boy sleepily rubbed his eyes, a - for his small form huge teddy - in his arm as he walked into the kitchen. He was looking around the room, feeling his eyes grow wide when he saw some red stuff everywhere. Blood, his father had called it when the boy had asked him about pictures he had taken home from work. He dropped his teddy and ran over to where he saw his mother, grabbing her hand. "Mommy? Mommy?" He shouted as he was shaking her, trying to wake her up because he had a nightmare earlier. He was all alone in it and some bad man was coming for him and there also had been red stuff everywhere! For some odd reason, the woman, who always had had a light sleep, did not wake up, no matter how hard he tried to wake her. It was as he was about to run to his father when he heard steps behind him.

The child turned around, looking up at a man with emotionless eyes. The man simply stared at him and his mother with a gaze that told he was not a nice man. "Oi, you forgot the shitty brat here," he called out, making the five-year-old jump in fear. This man was one of the scary men his father had warned him about he could already tell. Something about him was very, very wrong. The boy blinked a couple of times before doing what his gut told him. He ran. He left his teddy behind along with his parents, thinking of what they had told him to do should a stranger wither talk to him or be inside their home.

The man was walking, not intending to run. After all this was a little child. No way could he outrun him. But the boy was not dumb, no; he remembered what he had been taught should he ever have to leave home when bad strangers were there. As more men followed the other into the child's room, he already was climbing out of the window and down the fire ladder like his father had always told him to should there be any danger. Before they even reached the window, the boy landed on the ground and started running.

He didn't know how long he was running. He just knew he could not stop; he had to keep running. Although the boy was tripping over and over again, he kept dashing through the night, the men slowly catching up. At one point he used a shop for cover and slipped into an alleyway where he hid in the shadows. He had to put a hand over his mouth to hold back the pants so they wouldn't hear him. As the men now entered the alley he could hear the one leading them throw a couple of no-no words at the others before throwing the cigarette butt towards where the child stood as the turned and left, not having noticed the boy. "He won't cause trouble anyways," the man with the emotionless eyes sad as he held up the teddy for a moment, looking straight at the boy as if he knew he was there. "Let's go."

Soon the child was alone again, starting on his journey through the town again. He didn't know where he was but with a lot of luck he managed to find the house he searched for. Ringing the bell frantically he waited, unable to hold back the tears now.

An old man opened the door, looking worriedly at the child. Behind him was a young blonde boy, slightly smaller than the other. "What happened? What are you doing here? Where are your parents?" The old man asked, kneeling down. The boy held his hands out that were still covered in red stuff as he sniffed slightly. Without hesitation the man looked around before picking him up. "It's alright, Eren. Come in. It's going to be fine." Turning to the other child he said, "Get him some new pyjamas please, Armin." And soon he carried him inside. Neither of the three noticed the bad man watching them from a dark car outside the house. "Levi, Sir, we should leave." The man sighed, lighting another cigarette as he picked up the teddy, which was still laid beside him. "Drive me to the club," he ordered as the car left unnoticed by the inhabitants of the house the boy had run to.