May 12, 850
Bright sunlight is what woke a young teenager up. It was too early she thought. To make matters worse, it was past the hour she should've been up. She rubbed the thick crust from her eyes, groaning as she stretched. She laid in bed for a few more minutes, staring blankly at the ceiling.
"I hate waking up early. I hate it!" The bed's sheets were vigorously kicked in the air by the teen. She leveled down and closed her eyes, reminiscing the times her mother used to wake her every day at the crack of dawn to help around the house.
"Gosh, I hated those times. When I wouldn't move, she would've pulled open my bedroom curtains like an ape starving for bananas. They damn near tore off, forcing in that scorching sunlight. I thought I would eventually go blind."
"When she would do so, I would yell what was wrong, have you gone mad? Then, she would yell back the remark. Slapping me like a dog that just shitted on your floor. Uh, if that didn't burn." She rubbed her head as if the pain was still there. "If I didn't crawl into a fetus position, holding my bruised head, faintly cursing like a sailor."
"The morning wasn't bad, compared to the rest of the day. I hated the work that witch put me through. I had to do more than household chores. Let's say, If they had a child protective services agency, then surely my heifer- mother would be one of their primary repeaters. Too bad my daddy wasn't there to see her. He wasn't a wife beater, never he thought of becoming one, but he believed in order." She felt a slight burn in her eyes.
"Too bad his forward thinking wasn't honored, it was a fine, good one. But, he couldn't be there anyway. He's out of the house before dawn to go hunting. He rarely questioned how our day been. When he gets back, all he sees is a clean house," She paused herself remembering a brief, but battered moment.
The child went to sit on the couch, resting her arm on the stand beside her. "Uh!" She wiped the dust off her arm, "Woman don't you clean?"
Her mother threw down her apron. Disgust plastered her face. "Who are you calling 'woman'?!"
"What, you a man now? Cause damn you look like one. An ugly ass dog-" Her mother slapped her. The child felt a dry heave in her throat. So apparently, the woman knocked the sound out of her baby's mouth.
"Say something else." Angry, but reluctant. Ultimately, she failed at her attempt; while delivering a puff of air. "Yeah, I thought so. Now get out of my sight. Ahora [now]!" The little girl ran like a scared puppy.
She squirmed, gently rubbing her throat. "She was ruthless; she couldn't even cook dinner right. But my daddy loved it; he probably smoked too much. But through his eyes, he saw a wife cooking dinner- with a smile on her face," Again, she reminisced a painful moment between her mother.
"Uh, this tastes like dog shit! I ain't eating this!" She pushed her plate away, nearly it landing at the end of the dining table.
Her mother dropped her serving spoon. "Who the hell are you hollering at?! Fui esclavo de esta estufa de culo caliente [I slaved over this hot ass stove]!"
The brave child perked straight up and barged her mother's scathed energy. "Read my lips, it-tastes-like-dog-shit! And you speaking Spanish won't scare me. Cochina [filthy pig]!"
The unnerved woman grabbed her child's hair, leaping her small frame from the chair she sat in, forcibly shoving the girl's face in the plate. She pulled the child's head back up. "Is it good now?" She received a frantic nod.
She combed her hand through her long, dark brown, curled mane, which distinctively showed her heritage; which was a mixture of many.
"She gripped like a cat to a curtain. I'm surprised she didn't take a chunk out. But, 'that' side. I swear it's nothing to play with. But my daddy loved it. That's why he married her or forced to do so. He spoiled me a lot. I was his princess he said- funny. But he adored my talents, especially my drawings. He would look forward after his work to see his daughter being the next Da Vinci-" And once again she reminisced the terror her mother gave, concerning her talent.
"Uh-oh." She giggled to herself while drawing a distinctive picture. As she doodled near the fireplace, her mother was seated but a foot away. "Looking good- for a heifer." She fell out in laughter.
Her mother caught an earshot of her rowdiness. "What you over there laughing at?" Her mother put down what she was doing, which was reading the Reina-Valera, ironically.
"Vieja perra [old bitch]." The girl hissed.
Her mother heard, quickly hopping out her chair and ran to look at the image. The book flew near the lit fireplace. The edge of it was burned. "Who the hell is that suppose to be?!" She hollered, snatching the paper.
"Oh, you don't know?" She grinned mischievously. "One-big-hei-fer!" She shot up and pointed at her mother. "Just look at those thighs!"
She slapped the hell out of that pitiable child. A kick from a horse would have been gentler. The front of her body was facing one way, while her head was facing the other.
"What do you see now?"
"My ass." The child pouted. Feeling the sting water her eyes.
"If you want to have it still, you better straighten up!"
She whimpered slightly, touching her cheek. "Why?!" She cried out. "My daddy thought it was all good when he stepped in, but hell was brewing all around."
And so, every day Maria would feel the pain of hate and bitterness surrounding her.
"Damn!" Maria whined as she slid out of bed. She sighed, "Another day, another day. Lord, why was I dropped off this way?" She threw her head down while walking to the bathroom to freshen up. She gave herself a pep talk, "Alright girl; it's go time!" She shadow boxed in the mirror, watching her hair cloud her vision. She bounced out of the bathroom, still shadowing, and put on her uniform.
"Gotta put all this shit on. For what? To fight off splinter covered Titans?" She groaned loudly. Besides, she was thankful the rest of her roommates left to begin their day.
The standard attire was a brownish, almost beige, half-cut jacket with white pants and dark brown, knee-high boots. Along with the darkish-brown apron and straps that lace from chest to toe, which is used for combat. The shirt can be chosen to their liking, which for Maria was a dark green short sleeve. Aside from the added material to separate the ranks and branches, mostly all the soldiers wore the same clothing. With herself in check, she headed towards the mess hall.
"Oh my gosh! What the hell is that?" She looked at the food and nearly threw up. "You trying to kill me?!"
"I don't know what this is." The female server said without a care. She continuously stirred the chow in the large basin. Even up close the substance was unrecognizable; it bubbled as she stirred. Strangely, there was no heat to make it that way.
"How you don't know?" Maria asked, feeling on the edge of what's brewing under her senses.
"Because I don't." The woman chided, leaving her contact on her dish.
Maria always had a knack for getting a rise out of people; whether it would help her or not, it was that sensation of knowing she had them in her palms.
"I bet ya don't know your man been feeling up the nurse. Uh, bang-bang!" She made a humping gesture. The lady seemed disgusted by it, but the soldiers around were amused. The woman may appear frail looking, who wouldn't look like that at age seventy, but she wasn't that naive.
She lifted her sight. Staring her hazel eyes. "Are you getting fresh with me?" The lady pointed her serving spoon in Maria's face, having a few drops flying on the server's white blouse. "I'm not going to take this nonsense from a child."
The rambunctious teen got closer, close enough to be a split-hair apart. "What nonsense? Are you mad you heard the truth?!"
The anger inside was rushing through the lady's veins. "Look! Get your food or get your ass out of line, I don't have time for this!" Soldiers nearby began to give their full attention to their argument.
"I bet your husband does. Uh, bang-bang!" Maria snickered mischievously, giving the same humping gesture. The soldiers couldn't help bursting out in laughter.
"Leave!" She felt the spit that flew out of the lady's mouth. It felt cold and slimy.
"I guess you are what you eat." She wiped the saliva with her sleeve. "Alright, I'm goin'. But know this, it's a fine line between fresh and nasty." She looked the lady up and down. "You ain't got a chance!" She laughed as she raced out the door.
The lady attempted to fling food at her resulting in her bonnet nearly flying off, but she didn't even get close because of the sonic speed Maria delivered. But, the food did hit someone. A tall, shiny, brown egg that gave the woman a death stare. The head instructor was the one she struck. His eyes golden was overshadowed by his dark circles. His forehead was comprised of wrinkles, giving him one run-down look.
"My office now!" He shook the building as he roared those words. She didn't hesitate to leave.
And so, the little old lady shuffled herself to his office, gently holding her long cotton beige skirt from being scratched by the uneven floor. The soldiers felt pity for her, but that changed as they saw what her fingers gave them. "You filthy bastards." She hissed.
But, one soldier had enough of her ways. She stood from her seat, staring her blue eyes down at the lady. "Oouu, you're a nasty woman. I hope the wind blows through your flappy skin, making you fly like a bird caught in stretched dough!" The soldiers were surprised because that cadet rarely spoke, but snickering removed their thoughts.
The woman stopped at the doorway, "Oh raggedy Ann, when does your shift start on the front lawn?" The woman hurried out before the soldier could catch her.
That soldier was held down by her comrades. Fighting desperately, to be unchained from their grasps.
In the camp's courtyard, Maria witnessed the sheer of fear the head instructor, Keith Shadis, brought to his soldiers.
"Alright, you pigs! It's time to face hell!" He spat out, cuffing his hands behind his long mustard green cloak, which covered his dark gray collar shirt, white pants, and dark brown knee-high boots. "Hey, you!" He's found his first victim; a short, shaven-headed, soldier named Connie Springer. "What are you doing?!"
"I-I-I-" The boy was struggling to get words out. The man could see the fear through the boy's hazel eyes.
"What? I don't understand that gibberish?!" The man's veins were beginning to show through his tan skin.
"I'm doing nothing, sir!" The boy was shaking like a toy rattle.
"Bunch of bullshit!" He shouted back. "Why the hell is your form incorrect? It's supposed to be your right hand curved across your chest, and your left hand gripped behind your back. Not the other way around!"
"I-I-I-" The boy was struggling again.
The tall man grabbed the boy by the collar of his jacket and lifted him. They both were at eye level.
"Listen here you bald punk. Do you think I'm an idiot? Do you assume the ones that throw their lives on the lines are satisfied with you fucking up, huh? If so, please tell me now!"
The boy was scared. Sweat was dripping off of him like a running faucet. He began to whimper between the man's grasp. His facial gestures made it worse.
"Boy, stop making that face! You look like a stroke victim!" He spat. "Just disrespectful."
After a few moments of being paralyzed by fear, the boy opened his mouth. "I-I...think you're... a remarkable instructor ...a-and you...k-know how to handle situations." The boy showed a weak smile. The other soldiers in formation were surprised by his answer.
"You dumbass..." A soldier nearby snarled. The structure was filled with snickers that regret soon after replaced. He gave his troops 'the look' they always feared. All of a sudden, nothing was heard, but the wheezing of the boy that was gripped between his hands.
"You liar!" The man yelled as he dropped the boy. "Get up and run ten laps!" The boy got up and went without a second thought.
"We're near graduation, and I still don't know why." Maria shook her head. "Like really, why am I here? I don't remember signing up for this? I suppose to be dead..."
The camp itself is intimidating. The instructor has his little shack where he sleeps and constructs business. One boy disturbed his presence with a petty excuse, the man recalled.
Keith heard a knock at the door. They let themselves in. "How disrespectful." He thought.
"Sir?" They shyly said.
"What?" He spat while shuffling papers.
"I saw a hornets' nest under the outside door on the boys' dorm, and... I was wondering-"
"Armin Arlert." He stared the blonde, blue-eyed boy dead in his face. "Why be a chicken, when you can be an eagle?" He leaped from his chair. "Be an eagle boy!"
The boy scampered out the room like a frightened puppy.
But the days were long and hard for the cadets. Barely any rest in between. In just one month, nearly half of the soldiers had been to the infirmary. But that didn't stop most of them from quitting.
One boy wallowed in pain as he laid in bed, but his voice was crystal clear. "I will kill all the Titans! Ow- the pain hurts. Like I'm going to give to the Titans!"
His roommates became irritable of his outburst; they too were laying in bed, fighting their pain. "Yeager shut up and sleep!" One patient exclaimed. "We don't want to hear your ranting."
He scrunched his nose. "Never..." He whispered while pulling the bed sheets closer to him.
The infirmary is also a tent, not big enough for horses to settle in, but the animals don't mind stopping by. Along with crude jokes, like one soldier.
"Hey, what you named your horse?" Eren, the same cadet that was yelled at in the infirmary, asked. He rubbed the mane of his companion that appeared at his bedside through the flaps of the tent.
"Stallion, how about you?" Another soldier, Marco Bott, responded. Giving a kind smile that blended with his freckles and light-brown eyes.
"Johnny!" Eren and galloped like a horse.
"Fuck you!" They heard an angered voice from a soldier that laid in a bed next to the tent's raft, which made Eren lit up joy.
For the cadets, they have two buildings where they sleep. The boys slept in one, while the girls slept in the other. Since the camp is coed, there are strict rules in place for each. But that doesn't stop the troops from breaking them, even if being threatened. Like two soldiers did.
A knock was heard on one of the girl's dorm rooms. The door eased opened. "Hey, how are my gal pals doing?" A high-pitch voice asked.
"Who the hell are you?" The female groaned, feeling irritable at the late night disturbance.
"Mina it's me, Jea- Jenny." The soldier caught their wording.
"Jenny?" The pig-tails haired girl didn't know anyone of that name.
"Yeah, I'm new here, and this is Ar- Aruani." They caught themselves again. "I need to practice more often."
Mina heard that last part being whispered. "Aruani?" She didn't know anyone of that name either.
"Yeah, don't he- she looks like that chick, Annie." "…this won't work."
Again she heard them whisper. "I suppose... Maybe you two are related?" The unknown duo was dumbfounded. She grabbed one of the two's hand and dragged them to another soldier's room, Annie Leonhart's. The other trailed behind. "Annie! Look who I found."
She turned to her. "Armin?" The boy was shaking like crazy.
"Armin? No that's- Armin... What the hell is going on here?"
Annie looked blankly at the girl. "Mina, seek help."
"If that's Armin, then who's Jenny?"
The other one hauled ass out the room but was stopped. "Oh, h-hello." They took a few steps back.
"Hello, Jean or should we say, Jenny." A dozen girls surrounded him; they gripped their fists, delivering the boy a frightening gesture.
"Armin run for your life!" Armin did, being let out of a window by Annie. But, Jean didn't get out. "Please don't hurt me! Nooo!"
Behind each 'dormitory' is a shack for bathing and other uses. They sometimes don't receive water because the well rusts from poor maintenance. One soldier couldn't stand the disarray of the maintenance.
"We can hardly take showers. I need my body clean." The strong built blonde looked himself in the mirror. Hating the grime that covered his skin; followed by the putrid smell.
"Reiner I don't know why. You're always trailing behind some girl. Their scent can clean you better than you can clean yourself." His tall, brunette friend spoke in a cunning manner.
"Bertolt, I'm a one-woman man."
"But, that woman doesn't want you." His response came off funny to him, but not to his friend.
"Oh, you think you're bad now."
"No." He knew this would have gone too far. "Just drop it before you say what I think you're going to say."
He grinned until his face hurt. "Maybe An-"
"I said drop it!"
But that's not as bad as the food. The mess hall isn't quite big. The benches are cold, old, have pieces of wood sticking out. Many soldiers had to endure it.
"I can't feel my ass." Armin cried as he sat.
"Arlert stop whining. Be an eagle!" Shadis hollered.
The boy continued sobbing as the broken wooden thorns pierced his bottom.
"Hey, Marco." Jean nudged an elbow to his friend, whispering. "Maybe Shadis should be a scarecrow." The young lad pointed to his head. "He scares 'cause he can't grow." But, his quietness was still heard.
"Kirstein!"
The boy jumped as his name was called. "Y-yes?"
"Give me ten laps tomorrow."
"What?!"
"Did I stutter? I must have. Being made of straw can do that." He chided.
"I guess so." It was a slip of the tongue, he quickly shut his mouth, but it was too late.
Keith can be crueler than usual, and this moment was one of them. "Oh, I see." He straightened himself. "Forget what I said about doing the laps."
He walked away. Leaving the boy speechless. He saw the man, grab a piece of paper, and a nail. He wrote something before walking to the girls' dorm, posting something on the outside door. He and Marco ran to it.
The note says, "The hoes live here.- Jean" They were in shock.
"What kind of teacher would do that?!" He clenched his hands on his head. Feeling lower than dirt.
"You were a good friend." Marco patted his back as he saw his friend crumble in fear.
The cooks are also bitter, lazy, and nasty. Some soldiers hated, but who wouldn't.
"Hey, stop eating all the food!"
"But I'm hungry." A female soldier pouted.
"Connie Springer and Sasha Blouse get the hell out of here!"
"But what I do?!" Connie yelled.
"Bringing her in here."
"You bitter bitch." Sasha hissed, stuffing the rest of the pantry in her mouth and pockets.
"What?! Say it to my face!" The cook came back swinging her knife at the two.
They sprinted out of there. "I didn't even get my food." She whined.
"What?! I saw you stuff yourself like a holiday turkey. Besides, do you want to live or die eating?"
"I guess to live, but I rather choose the second one." She whimpered.
But they aren't ashamed. Whenever cooks are mad, they just put it in the food. No care for the soldiers, even if they're training to aid in protecting them. But, that was the interior.
The exterior is rigged with a vast amount of machinery. The trees aren't trees; the dirt isn't dirt. Birds can't even land on the branches without the chances of being sliced in half. The soldiers spend half of the day out there, even in harsh conditions. Some also died. Their training is tough. You mostly have to have a good head on your shoulders, but sometimes that's not enough.
Later that day, as the sun was about to disappear, a man pulled up in a horse-drawn carriage. He was dressed in a black suit with a top hat. The soldiers stared as he stepped out. Looking at his stomach nearly stretching the fabric of his shirt.
"Who's in charge here?" The suited man yelled. His nose reeled from the stench of the camp's grounds.
"That'll be me," Keith answered.
"Is that so?" The short man looked him up and down.
"Is there a problem?" Keith chided.
"No, I- never mind. Do you have the reports that had been requested?" Silence filled their space for a moment.
Keith shook his head, "No."
The short man didn't like that. "You know we don't like the word 'no.' So how about you get those reports before something resurfaces again." The small man formed a devilish grin.
The instructor's blunt demeanor became to resurface. "Who are you again?" The tall man asked, questioning the short man's worth.
The suited man smirked. "I'm the hand that will destroy any sanity that's left in you."
The instructor bent down and whispered to him. His voice lowered as he spoke. "Try me."
The short man's face dropped as he clenched his teeth. Him trying to overplay his hand didn't work, so he preceded to his carriage, and left. Therefore, the instructor returned to his cabin.
"What was that about?" One soldier asked.
Another soldier shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows?"
May 13, 850
The next day had come. "We have less than a couple of hours until graduation!" One soldier cried.
"I know. I can't believe time went by this fast." Another one said while getting ready for the day.
Keith waited by the front gates of the camp. A soldier approached him. "Sir, when will we be departing?" The soldier asked.
The sun was reflecting off the tall man. "At high noon." He answered.
So when the time had come, the troops rode out on their horses. Two hours later, they arrived at their destination. A district called Trost that was gated by fifty-meter walls. And Wall Rose, one of the main adding to it.
Keith stopped and faced his soldiers. "I'll be away for awhile, so, co-instructors, David Greene and Jeffery Hart, will be advising you until my return. You better not give them any slack." When his soldiers saluted, he rode off.
The two leaders smiled at their soldiers' not-so caring faces. The sun reflected off their attire, which was no different from Keith's, aside from the various color shirts. David rubbed his stubby, dark brown beard, while Jeffery combed his blonde hair. They could've been twins, aside from the different hair colors and a few body features, everything else was pretty much the same. From their clothing to their laid-back lifestyle.
"Alright, who wants to train today?" David asked, cuffing his hands behind his back. No one said a word. David repeated himself, but still no answer.
Jeffery whispered to him. "You know they don't want to. Besides, aren't they graduating today?"
"I know, I love to see the agony on their faces. And for the ceremony, it's covered." David replied with a smile.
While the soldiers went training, the instructor went to visit someone. He walked into a little hut not too far from the troops.
"Who is it?" A large man, standing by a window asked. He wore a gray suit with black leather flats.
"It's me," Keith answered.
"Oh, hello Kei-" The instructor cut him off.
"No, don't."
"Why?" The man questioned curiously.
"It's not of importance."
"Alright then. Do you remember my name?" The man asked.
"Yes, Calvin Kraemer." He answered.
"The one and only. Now, what do you want?" He placed his folded coat aside on his desk, straightening his pants as he sat in his chair.
"Do you know about a pompous midget visiting me yesterday?" Keith asked.
"Oh, yeah. I heard the troll was ticked off when he came back." He gestured for his guess to take a seat, which Keith did. "What about it?"
"It's strange he would come all that way just to ask for the transfer papers of the soldiers." Keith said.
"My guess is he wanted specific ones."
"Why?" The instructor was confused.
"There has been talking in the Capital that one or more people were involved in the recent attack. They suggest they're under your command." Calvin fondled with his shaggy light brown hair, feeling uneasy about what he said.
"What?!" The instructor was infuriated. "You know what happened. How we couldn't succeed. How I returned with those men. How damaged I've been since then. How I watched as the Wall fell, and I didn't do a damn thing! But, now you're telling me the culprits that may be involved is under my watch?" He clenched his fist, nearly scathing himself.
"Don't get yourself worked up. Have you seen anything unusual going on?" Calvin was trying his best to calm him.
Keith looked at him. "Have you seen the soldiers I have?"
Calvin gripped the man's shoulder. "Look more carefully. If it's true, you only have less than- well, no time. Just don't let the higher-ups get involved, if they do so, they may agitate them."
The instructor got up, "Alright." Then he left.
The soldiers were to stay in cabins the police uses when they wouldn't return home. Since many moved closer to the Capital, the cabins are hardly ever occupied. The soldiers picked their rooms, and who was sleeping wear. The instructors were too wasted to care. They found a crate of liquor in one of the cabins and let loose. They didn't drink until the ceremony was over, after that, they weren't heard from until the next day. With the old dogs passed out, the soldiers were on their own, supposedly.
May 14, 850
As time ticked by, the soldiers ventured out into the city. Many went sightseeing or to hang out with each other, while some didn't know what to do. But, they all were relieved they weren't being worked to death.
"I'm bored!" Connie hollered out.
"Me too!" Sasha responded.
"Only boring people would say they're bored." Annie, shorter than both of them, softly said. But, was heard by the two.
"Only boring people would say they're bored." The boy mimicked her, while placing his hands on his hips.
She frowned, almost wanting to punch him. He saw that her frustration was building up and craved to push her a little more.
"You know my friend you train with...the one they call 'suicidal'? I heard there might be more between you two." He had a wide grin on his face, which filled her with disgust.
"I don't know what you're implying, but it better stop as we speak." She hissed.
The boy laughed, "I forgot. You can't get near him anyway. His security is better than the King's." He gave a sly smile. "Raggedy Ann."
She clenched her fist, ready to swing, but didn't.
From a far distance, a male voice was yelling. It kept coming closer. "Springer! Springer!", it was the head instructor.
"I thought he was out cold from the booze?" The boy was shaking with fear.
When the instructor came into view, he still appeared buzzed from the alcohol, yet could somewhat comprehend words. All three soldiers saluted the tall man as he approached them.
"Are you okay, sir?" The boy asked. Keith was standing like a stone wall.
"I don't think he is." The soldiers saw the cloudiness in his eyes. Then he blacked out. His body laid lifeless on the ground.