Hello dears! This is my first Attack on Titan story, so if the characters are ooc, please forgive me. Eren may or may not be a little more haughty and mature than I usually see, or rather more intelligent, I really don't know how to put it, but I really have no idea how it's gonna be, so bear with me. Eren will be shown to be physically strong and capable of handling himself.

I just request that there is only constructive criticism here, nice words, and no hurtful words in the reviews. Thank you.

Warning: This story will have gore, death, bad language, abuse, mentions of rape, and heavy smut (on AO3).

I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

Stranded I

Prologue

Eren's limbs felt heavy, his bed felt hard, and his eyes burned when he slowly opened them. He went to bed that night in boxers, so why did it feel as if he was fully clothed? Why was it so hot? His room was never hot, always opting to keep it cool. With a groan the brunet struggled to sit up onto his hands and looked around. He decided on a shaky laugh.

"Well, isn't this a pleasant dream?" he said to himself sarcastically. Eren fell back again, wishing to feel those soft pillows beneath his head once more, but when his head landed, it hurt. It honestly hurt. He scrambled back up to his hands and knees, feeling around the ground to frantically search for his blankets and found none, only finding a warm, slightly grassy area. His heart sped up its pace and his breath caught in his throat, eyes wide.

"What the fuck," he said breathlessly, then once more in a loud yell. "What the fuck! Where the hell am I? What's going on? Is this some kind of joke? Armin? Mikasa?" Their names were yelled, and he half expected them to pop out of a bush and laugh at him over his face, which most likely looked like a deer in headlights. His fingers twisted in his hair, tugging. He glanced around, realizing he was in the middle of absolutely nowhere, not a house in sight. No buildings, no roads, not even a glimpse of a trail or any sign that human life would come through this area. There was nothing. Armin and Mikasa still hadn't jumped out to tell him it was a joke and she wasn't pointing a finger at the blond to insinuate that it was all his idea to bring him out here.

Now, he was really starting to panic. He wanted to run around in circles, flail his arms and scream at the top of his lungs. The first wasn't going to happen, neither the second, but the third was definitely something he was going to start doing. There had to be someone out here. Out where, though? Did this place event exist in New York? The surrounding area had hills and some small mountains here and there. There were some trees, but they were sparse unless you walked straight ahead a mile and they seemed to become frequent. No water, though, none in sight. There could be some in the distance, but he almost doubted it and he frowned.

He cupped his hands around his mouth to yell as loud as he could into the distance. "HELLOOOO, IS ANYONE OUT THERE? HELLO, I NEED HELP!" Eren repeated this process for two minutes, then lowered his arms in defeat. He glanced toward the ground, and that's when he noticed what he was wearing; camouflage pants, black boots, white t-shirt, and a black cloak. He also noticed a bag near the tiny tree he woke up under. It was a regular sized backpack with extra little pockets and zippers. Cocking his head to the side, he knelt down in front of it and grabbed it, dragging it close. His heart had slowed down, but it was still pounding in his chest and he could hear the blood rushing in his head.

This is a dream, he kept telling himself, but he knew deep down that what he saw was real. He worried about Mikasa. Where was she? Was she safe? Those questions couldn't be answered. The only thing he could do at this point was go through the unfamiliar pack that was left with him. The clothes were unrecognizable as well; they weren't his.

Opening the largest pocket, he pulled out two water bottles, a small bag of batteries, various small rations of food that looked as if it would last around two days, an extra set of clothes similar to what he already wore, a handheld transceiver-or walkie talkie as many describe them-a flashlight, and a skinning knife. In a smaller pocket, there was a journal, two pencils, a pencil sharpener, and a pocket knife. All other pockets had nothing else, but on the outside of the bag there was a machete in it's case, dangling from the side. He immediately grabbed the transceiver and turned it on.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he asked into it and waited impatiently for a response. Whoever left him here left this so someone could speak to him, right? As he waited, he opened the journal, finding it relatively blank except for the first page, which had a few written scribbles.

'Survive for 3 months, Eren Jaeger.
you will be retrieved when the first part of
your training has been completed.
Until then, don't die.'

There was no signature. An eyebrow arched at those words and his mouth was agape like a stupefied fish. Oh, how badly he felt like kicking something to relieve his distress and irritation. This was a fucking game, one that he was not fond to play. And what training? Training for what? This made no sense whatsoever, but at least he knew the first piece of the puzzle. He just needed to find more, and he would receive more answers as soon as someone on the other end of this transceiver answered him. Unlucky for him, there was still yet to be another voice to answer him. He tried again.

"This is Eren Jaeger, someone please answer me." Nothing. He tried again in German. "Hallo? Antworte mir, bitte." Still nothing.

Eren nearly threw the damn thing but decided against it. They could be busy, he would try again later. He needed to find a place to set up camp, preferably near a water source. Speaking of water, he grabbed a bottle and unscrewed the cap, taking a small sip. It was ungodly hot out here, but he noticed clouds in the distance, dark ones at that. It would rain soon. He just wanted nothing more than to go home. He didn't need to pinch himself to make sure this was real, the sore spot on the back of his head already did that job. He cursed and stuffed everything back into the backpack, stood, and slung it over his shoulder. Eyes squinting to see, he didn't see anything that could hint to him where he should go, so he chose straight ahead. There was a mountain range to his left, and to his right there were a number of smaller hills. Ahead and behind seemed relatively flat.

Taking a few steps forward, he glanced back to where he awoke by the small tree, and wondered for a split second if he should stay in this area, but immediately discarded that idea. With a shrug and a heavy sigh, he began to walk, his head dizzy, his heart hammering, and his thoughts bleak.

I know, short chapter, but it was only the prologue. Hopefully I have successfully intrigued some of you! Thank you for reading.