His footsteps echoed down the hallway, the long and barren stone hallway that led to god knows where. Two men escorted the Captain, walking behind him to take up the width of the walkway. He wore no chains, there were no restraints; that was his captor's style. There needed to be sport, there needed to be some kind of game, some sort of challenge. Levi tsked under his breath, clenching his teeth in anger as he continued to walk. Even after all these years, his skills, apparently, still weren't good enough for that bastard.
The soldier was lead into a small room, lit by only a few wall lanterns, casting just enough light to brighten the cramped chamber enough to see, but not enough to pick out any real details. The fucker did that on purpose. In the center of this room was a table. A simple wooden table with an empty wooden chair. Across from the chair, on the other side, sat a familiar face, a tall, lanky scruff of a man, his reputation given away by his trademark bowler hat. He was smoking, of course, and there was a bottle of whiskey on the table along with a single shot glass. The older man was lounged back in his seat, one arm resting over the back, his legs crossed in front of him.
"Take a seat, boy."
It sounded like an invitation, but it really wasn't. Just a cat toying with a mouse.
Levi stood his ground, his shoulders roughly pushed forward in an effort to make him comply. The soldier was stubborn of course, making the two henchmen scuffle with the Captain, forcing him to eventually sit down in the chair across from his Uncle. They left the room, given the signal by their boss, a subtle tip of the hat, closing and locking the door behind them.
The two men were alone.
Kenny gave a devilish smirk to his guest, happy to see him, before tapping the wood finish with his long, bony finger.
"Hands on the table, fingers spread, feet flat on the floor and shoulder width apart. You know the drill."
Levi glared back murderously in return.
Plucking the cigarette from his lips, Kenny let out a disappointed sigh. He knew his nephew was going to be stubborn, but he didn't expect the obstinacy to start so early.
"Look, ya little shit, you can either play the game correctly an' put your hands on the table, or I will make you put your hands on the table an' keep them that way. Do ya really wanna start out with that kinda handicap?"
Narrowing his eyes, the Captain complied, placing his forearms flat on the wooden surface, spreading his fingers as requested.
"Good boy," Kenny smiled, taking a long drag of his cigarette, tipping his head back to blow the smoke high into the air. "Now feet flat, heels against the chair legs."
Knowing there was no sense in arguing, the younger man did as told, for now, buying himself some time to figure out how to get out of the situation.
The older Ackerman smiled and nodded, like he was rewarding a well-trained dog. Picking up the bottle on the table, the man sloppily filled the shot glass, liquid spilling onto the table, making the younger of the two cringe slightly, a reaction Levi couldn't help, especially under stressful circumstances. Kenny snorted and smirked, throwing back the amber liquid and slamming the glass back down before pulling out a firearm from under his vest and jacket. The mercenary held the piece up for display, showing off the weaponry while setting it on the table, an equal distance between the two men. From there, the assassin leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable again.
"You have something I want," Kenny pointed out, going to officially start the conversation.
Levi did nothing but stare back, his glare even more intense than before. He always hated these fucking games.
Waiting for a response, the older man filled the small glass again, a stern eyebrow raised at his defiant nephew.
"I'm talkin' ta ya, son," the assassin noted before shooting back his second shot. "Etiquette dictates you answer your elders, or did the Survey Corps finish turning you into a filthy mongrel?"
"That was a statement," the Captain offered up flatly.
"... What?"
"What you said. It was a statement, not a question. No response was necessary."
Now it was Kenny's turn to glare back. Apparently, his nephew had become a smartass over the years.
"I see you've developed a sense of humor finally," the older man snarled back.
"Not really," Levi answered, his cold expression unmoving, his angry gaze locked with his Uncle's.
There was an awkward moment of silence as the two men stared, Kenny's lip starting to twitch in annoyance. Fine, if his nephew wanted to play that way, he'd abide by that.
"You have something I want. Where is it?"
There, was that better, ya little shit?
"Not here, obviously."
The hired mercenary stared back at the younger male, not happy with his smartass mouth.
"I know that, son, that's why I'm askin'. Now stop being an annoyin' shit an' jus' tell me."
Levi shrugged, rolling his head to the side, creating a discreet opportunity to survey the room, looking for anything that he might be able to see in the dim lighting that could be of some use.
"You're the one who started this game, not me," the Captain was kind enough to bring to the older man's attention.
"Hey!" Kenny commanded, his loud, booming voice demanding to be listened to. He tapped the table again, lifting his bony finger to point at his own face. "Eyes here. You know the rules."
"Fuck your god damn rules," Levi snapped like a vicious dog, acting before thinking.
"Heh. Mouthin' off already?" the hired mercenary smirked, knowing the signs of his nephews' irritation.
"Fuck you," the soldier snarled, letting his hate-filled eyes drop to the floor, no longer wanting to look at his Uncle.
"Eyes," the once fatherly figure corrected in a stern tone, making Levi growl and do as he was told in response. "Good boy."
Kenny took a drag of his cigarette, sucking the cherry the rest of the way to the filter, effectively killing the addictive vice. The mercenary held the butt up between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it between the digits, his gaze locked and fixated on the spent tobacco as he exhaled the smoke in a puff towards his captive guest. With a sudden movement, the hired thug extended his arm forward, his hand moving in a blur, reaching within the vicinity of the gun. The older man watched his prey intently as, instead of taking the weapon, he snubbed out the cigarette instead.
Levi didn't even flinch. He didn't even blink. The bastard just drummed his spread fingers on the table, seemingly not amused.
"Very mature."
Kenny, on the other hand, although his outwardly expression didn't display any real emotion, inside, he was quite impressed with the young man's ability to control his reactions. Any normal person would have jumped, at least a little, or at least flinched. But not Levi. No sir. Levi was an Ackerman, and Ackermans were far from normal. The boastful Uncle liked to think the foundation for his nephew's self-control and dedication came from his teachings to the young kid all those years ago.
"Never claimed to be," the notorious serial killer honestly offered up, going to kick his booted feet up on the table, lacing his hand behind his head as he rocked the chair back on two legs. "Now... where were we?"
"You were demanding I tell you where it is."
"That's right, that's right." The interrogator pulled another cigarette out from behind his ear, bringing it to rest between his lips while he searched for a lighter, patting his pant pockets, his words forming around the rolled tobacco. "Ya always had a good memory on ya."
"Top left vest pocket."
It was always in his top left vest pocket, even when he was kid.
"Humm?" Kenny stopped, raising a curious eyebrow at his guest.
"Your lighter," Levi pointed out dryly. "It's in your top left vest pocket."
The assassin narrowed his eyes suspiciously, reaching to check said pocket only to find the worn and beaten metal lighter, snorting in amusement as if he had just watched a magic trick. He nodded at his nephew in appreciation, lowering his head, his eyes focused on lighting his cigarette, his hands cupped around the flame.
Deciding to test the waters, Levi took a chance, letting just his eyes slide to the side while he slowly extended one leg, going to move the appendage in a clockwise fashion to see what was within reach, to see how close the table leg was in proximity to him, to see how well he could hook his foot around the chair leg, any information that might be of use to try and turn the situation around. Of course, despite the ex-thug's movements being barely perceptible to the naked eye, his mentor caught it all.
Kenny sucked the flame into his precious vice, a dastardly smirk curling onto his lips as he snapped the lighter closed with a skilled flick of his wrist, stashing it in the same vest pocket.
"Put it back," the older man sternly ordered. "I'll give ya that one for free... but do it again, an' I'll make sure that foot don't move."
The fire behind the Captain's eyes burned brighter as he let out a defeated huff of a sigh.
The serial killer laughed at his company's misery, amused at the younger man's annoyance as he laced his fingers behind his head once more, continuing to smoke without the use of his hands.
"Where were we again?"
"Discovering the fact that you've become old and senile," Levi snapped back bitterly, his Uncle really starting to test his nerves.
Kenny ignored the comment, letting it roll off him like water. For the interrogator, the irritation of his guest was a good sign.
"Did I ever tell ya, when you were yay high-" The mercenary paused for a second, giving his nephew an impish glance. "Well... I guess that dun help ya since you haven't grown, eh midget?"
Levi groaned and rolled his eyes at the obvious insult, letting his hands slide back on the table as he slumped back in the chair, his elbows coming off the edge.
"Resorting to short jokes?" the Captain sighed in a disappointed fashion, hoping his captor didn't notice.
Kenny reached for the shot glass, tapping the cup on the wooden surface, pointing with that damn bony finger at the soldier's hands and posture, and glaring until his captive went back to playing by the rules, not letting the Captain slack even a little bit.
"What? That always used ta get ya," the assassin snorted as he pulled the bottle of alcohol towards him, going to refill his drink.
"When I was eight," Levi pointed out roughly, doing his best to hold back his true, irritated reaction. "I'm thirty-five now. That makes you, what...? Near dead?"
"Ha!" the old serial killer mused, shooting back the amber liquid. "You can try, son."
"No, I'll succeed," the younger man sincerely promised.
"Don't kid yourself, boy," Kenny confidently corrected, rolling the shot glass between his fingers. "No one can kill me. You're just lucky I like ya so damn much, or you'd already be dead. Besides, I'll stop with the short jokes when you stop with the old jokes."
"You started it," the Captain retorted, sounding almost offended.
"Dun make a lick a difference who started it," the relaxed assassin casually shrugged.
"Then I guess we're at a standstill," the Captain grumbled, purposefully closing the discussion.
"Stubborn little shit."
Levi growled, his expression turning into a small sneer, his upper lip pulling back slightly to show sharp teeth, the soldier unable to fully hold back his reaction anymore.
"Where is it?" Kenny sighed, placing the glass back down on the table. It was clear he was starting to grow tired of his junior's antics.
"I dont know," Levi snarled, obviously just as tired of playing his Uncle's game.
"You're starting to get on my nerves, boy," the older man warned, drumming his long, knobby fingers on the table, the hollow thud of the wood echoing loudly in the barren room.
"Good," the Captain taunted, his mood picking up slightly.
The two men sat in an awkward silence, glaring at one another, a contest to see who would look away or break the silence first. Of course, both were highly stubborn, they were Ackermans after all, but one did have a timed schedule to keep to, not to mention dinner plans.
"Ya know," the mercenary drawled out. "I don't really care where it is."
"I know," Levi confirmed with a stoic nod, acknowledging he knew the man was leading him along from the very beginning. This meeting was never about finding the desired targets; that was just a convenient excuse.
"But...," the assassin leaned forward, putting his chair and feet back on the floor, resting his elbows on the table, as he loomed over his nephew. "I'm getting bored. Are you gunna go for the gun or not, son?"
Levi shrugged, sitting back in his own chair to increase the distance between him and Kenny, who was seriously violating his personal space.
"I'm thinking about it."
"Well hurry it up," the older, impatient, man grumbled.
There was another awkward silence, the men having run out of things to say to each other. Another thing about Ackermans: they weren't much for talking. Action was their way of communicating, violence was their way of solving problems, and currently, both men had been patient long enough. It was impressive how long they both held out, considering that wasn't a virtue in their family.
"You wanna go on the count of three?" Kenny finally offered up as a compromise. "I'd love ta continue reminiscin', but I got company comin' this evenin'."
"What? Already made a downpayment and can't get your money back?"
That really got the assassin, his playful expression turning into an immediate scowl, his fingers curling, white-knuckled, in anger against the table.
"You know I dun do that shit, boy, and neither should you. Have some god damn respect."
Levi looked his Uncle straight in the eye.
"Fuck you."
That was it. Kenny had enough of this ungrateful little shit.
"Three!"
Like two vicious vipers, coiled and ready to strike, both of the Ackermans, young and old, leapt into action; however, neither one went for the gun that sat on the table. Rules of the game only went so far, they both knew that, and when it came to the end goal of survival, well... there were no rules at all.
Pushing himself up off the table, standing up and moving backwards, Kenny pulled out his own hidden firearm from his shoulder holster, leveling it at the only target in the room. He fired the shot, but it missed, of course, the little jack rabbit no longer in the vicinity of his original location. Instead, Levi had sidestepped his chair, hooking his arm around the lattice backing, and used his entire body weight to sling the wood furniture forward at the taller man. It was a distraction tactic, allowing the Captain to snag the alcohol bottle as he jumped over the table.
As an act of self-preservation, the once serial killer raised his arm to protect his face from the flying chair, lowering his gun to shoot out one of the table legs, the bullet splintering the wood, causing the stable surface to tilt and topple, taking his nephew along with it. With his impeccable reaction time, Levi hit the ground in a tucked roll, the force of the impact doing him a favor by shattering the glass container he held in his hand. Staying low to the ground, crouched like a beast, the Captain slashed with the broken bottle, causing his attacker to jump back, although the retreating bastard still managed to fire off a few rounds, one grazing the soldier's shoulder.
Levi pushed through the pain, using his powerful legs to lunge forward, closing the distance so Kenny couldn't use his gun effectively, an attempt to give himself the advantage. Putting all his might into it, the Captain's shoulder checked the assassin, knocking the wind out of the older man as he rammed him into the wall, pinning the sorry son of a bitch. The shattered glass glimmered in the dim lighting against Kenny's neck, but it was the familiar click of metal and the smell of gun powder next to his temple that stopped Levi from making the killing blow.
"Nice moves, boy," the winded mercenary complimented.
"I learned from the best," the Captain seethed through clenched teeth, trying to catch his own breath.
Kenny grinned proudly. "You're welcome."
"I wasn't talking about you," Levi snorted with a sarcastic bitterness.
There was a true twinge of pain behind the killer's eyes and the scowl softened, if only slightly, the man unaware just how much of the truth he was actually giving away.
"That hurts right here, son."
There was something, something in his Uncle's eyes, that flashed for a moment, and it was so unusual that it caught Levi off guard, causing the Captain to falter, if only for a fraction of a second, his grip easing against his assailant's throat.
Was he being serious?
The younger man's thoughts must have washed over his face for Kenny let out a small laugh, a crooked smile appearing on those dastardly lips of his.
"You done playin'?"
Levi resumed his harsh narrowed glare, his eye and attitude once again focused on the situation at hand.
"No. I'd rather kill you."
"Heh," the mercenary sighed, hoping for a different answer. "Another time, son." Finished with his game, the interrogator let out a loud, ear piercing whistle, the door opening on cue, the two henchmen from earlier entering the room. "Lock him up, boys."
The Captain let out a growl, pressing the sharp glass against the notorious serial killer's neck, enough to nick the skin, but nothing more than a pin prick, just a gentle reminder to never forget how dangerous Humanity's Strongest actually was, even if he was once the older man's student. That time had long since passed, and he was no longer a child.
Walking up behind the Captain, goon number one took hold of the smaller man's wrist, the one holding the bottle at his boss' throat, and removed the weapon, letting it fall and shatter on the floor while the arm was forced behind the soldier's back. Goon number two did a similar thing with Levi's other arm, both men holding the vicious, cornered wolf while they cuffed and restrained his hands, pulling the shorter man off the taller one.
Kenny rubbed at his neck, taking his hand away to look at the small smear of blood before rolling and stretching his shoulders.
"Why didn't ya go for the gun?" the assassin casually asked, genuinely curious.
"Why would I?" Levi shrugged nonchalantly as he was walked backwards towards the door by the two giant-sized men. "It wasn't loaded."
The Uncle smirked and reached out a hand, placing it on top of his nephews head and ruffling that stupid haircut of his.
"Smart boy. Maybe ya did learn somethin' after all."
The Captain snarled at the physical contact, jerking his head out from under this captor's hand.
"Don't touch me."
Kenny tsked and rolled his eyes, ignoring his guest and addressing his two henchmen instead.
"Take him down ta the basement an' put him in one a the last cells," the older man waved off, finally tucking his firearm away in his shoulder holster.
"The one that smells?" the first hired thug asked in confirmation.
The Captain's eyes widened slightly, the soldier doing his best to hide his natural reaction to filth.
Smells?
Kenny shook his head in the negative.
"Nah," the man drawled out playfully, a devilish twinkle dancing behind his cold eyes. "The one next to it."
"Next to it?!" the second thug asked, sounding more than startled. "But sir... not even the rats will go in there."
Levi couldn't help but fully open his eyes at that one, his head snapping to glare at his Uncle in a mixture of heated anger and absolute horror. He wouldn't dare.
Kenny snapped his fingers, firing a finger pistol at the younger Ackerman. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew his nephew better than he ever wanted to admit to anyone.
"That's the one. Throw this little shit in there an' give him a bucket an' a hand brush. Let's put the freak to work."
The first thug spoke again, seeming to be the more serious of the two.
"Do you want us to make him work, sir?"
The bossman shook his head in the negative, looking confident and smug, proud of the torture he had derived for his prisoner.
"He'll do it himself, no need ta make him." Kenny smirked. "Trust me."
Levi lunged forward at his Uncle with a vicious snarl, both of the hired help having to use their full strength to hold the Captain back. The shorter man fought and pulled, dragging his handlers a step or two forward so he could get in the aging serial killer's face. That was going too far.
"I hate you," the soldier seethed, sounding like a bloodthirsty dog that was foaming at the mouth.
Kenny patted his kin on the shoulder, that flash of unknown emotion once again lingering in his eyes, which he made sure to let his young captive see.
"At least yur feelin' somethin', kid." And with that, the mercenary turned his back, waving his orders over his shoulder with a lazy hand. "Get him out of my sight."
With the command given, their play time over, Levi was escorted out of the room and taken down below, leaving the older Ackerman alone to ponder his thoughts.