Carla shivered and shot a glance at the open window. Eren gave her a curious look and followed her gaze, while Mikasa continued to flip through her picture book, acting like she wasn't interested.

"Just a breeze," Carla said. "Close that window, for me, will you, Eren? I don't want either of you catching a cold."

Eren hopped up and did as she asked. He turned around with a smile, which slowly slid off when he saw Carla checking her watch. She looked up when she realized she was being stared at.

"Do you really have to go?"Eren asked.

Carla tilted her head and gave a soft smile. "Yes, I'm sorry. But this is really important for my job. You understand, right, Eren?" She glanced at the blonde man standing in the door-way. "Besides, Hannes will be here with you. Remember how much fun you had the last time he baby-sat?"

"It's big-kid-sat!" Eren exclaimed, eyes flashing indignantly. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I'm a big-kid. And I still don't want you to go. Neither does Mikasa. Right, Mikasa?"

Mikasa put the book up in front of her face, neither confirming nor denying it.

Carla turned back to Eren. "I'll try to come back as soon as I can, okay? How does that sound?"

Eren pouted. "Just get back soon."

"Alright," Carla said, smiling and picking him up in a massive bear-hug. She kissed him on the cheek. "It's a deal!"

Eren wiped the mom-cooties off. "Ick."

Carla frowned and placed him down. She turned to Mikasa. "Will you also give me a hug?"

Mikasa placed down her book and hopped off her bed. She gave Carla a hug with a slight smile and had enough finesse not to copy what Eren did after receiving her goodbye kiss. Mikasa had always been the more mature of the two.

"I'll be back at eleven," she told them. "Be good."

"Okay, mom," they both said, Eren with a tone of disapproval.

Carla stopped at the doorway to talk to Hannes. "Be sure they're down by nine."

"I thought their bedtime was eight," Hannes said.

"It's Saturday night. They can stay up late."

"Alright." Hannes shrugged. He lowered his voice. "You stay safe tonight."

Carla looked down at her business style skirt-suit and smiled. "What do you think I'm doing tonight, Hannes?"

He snorted. "Knowing you, anything. Just be careful – and remember; double tap."

Carla rolled her eyes. "You've been watching too many zombie movies. I'll be fine."

Hannes shrugged again. "Whatever you say, Carla."

"Goodbye, Hannes." Carla rolled her eyes and walked out.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

A;lejhgfdsjlkghfjgkvbnakjbvgakbfkhlgabrhbgfha, Marco typed on the screen. A;lkjdghfbjalfkdvhksdfvkhdfbvklhdfbvkabvfkabfklbakfbvfhlbhdafa;ljkvbzhkj xcjnz.k;lvbfjnklefvdblknf,mgfajvbd xhknfsjlvjbhlknf;gifblknfdjn,mwjkbnfdjbnmfd,kjslgbdnsajski.

Jean looked over when he heard the slamming of keyboard keys. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure how this 'novel writing' thing goes, but I'm pretty sure that's not how it's done."

;aslkbnvveuhibkhdflsbvhabfa,kbsdglkasdvfjkbvjkfbavgiurdeghdfjbkd, Marco typed on the screen in response, deciding that two-thirty AM – as in right now – was not a good time to explain his writing process to an angel.

"What language is this?" Jean asked, almost disgusted, as the screen over Marco's shoulder. Marco jumped. Jean hadn't walked over, but flashed.

"Please don't do that," Marco asked. "It's freaky."

Jean's eyes stayed glued to the screen. "This writing is 'freaky'. You call this literature?"

Marco didn't feeling like defending his work. He never wrote well past one AM.

Jean slapped him on the back. "C'mon, you can do it. Stay awake. We need you to finish this."

"I need sleep," Marco mumbled, putting his head down on his desk and covering it with his arms. "I haven't slept in a solid forty-eight hours."

"And you still haven't written the first chapter!"

"I just did."

"It's terrible, though. Why would you start with Carla? Everyone who's read your books know those two's back story."

"I'm trying to refresh in their minds. Maybe give an overview into what's happening in the story so far." Marco yawned; face still hidden by his arms. "Some readers just read the last book in the series. I don't want them to feel left out."

"Who the hell only reads the last book?" Marco heard Jean make a disapproving sound. "Why would anyone want to just read the end?"

Marco slowly sat up straight, back hurting from being in a slouched position. "How should I know?"

"You're a writer!"

"I don't make the rules…." Marco yawned and looked at the screen. "How much time do we have left?"

"How should I know?" Jean asked, raising his eyebrows.

"You're an angel," Marco countered, finding humor in the mockery.

"I don't make the rules." Jean cracked a smile. They both grinned at each for a moment, until Jean's face turn somber. "We have about five hours, in the least."

Marco nodded. "I'll pull an Asimov then."

"A what?"

"Asimov. He was a sci-fi writer."

"What's sci-fi?"

"I'll explain later – anyways, he said that if he was told he was going to die soon, he wouldn't get sad." Marco looked up at Jean as he deleted the shitty first chapter he had just written. "Want to know what he said?"

Jean shrugged. "You'll tell me no matter what my answer is."

Marco ignored his comment. "He said he would type faster."

"You're just full of quotes, aren't you? You need to stop repeating what dead guys have said and start making your own words famous. Get writing."

Marco rolled his eyes. "Just watch. I'll have this written before the sun rises."

Jean looked at the blank screen again. "Then start."

"Alright," Marco said, nodding. He thought for a moment.

On April 21, 1967, the 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville – a blue two-door caprice.

Marco looked up from his screen. Jean, reading over his should again, nodded in approval.

There was a big ceremony, speeches. The lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car – no, the most important object – in pretty much the whole universe.

And, of course, it belonged to two of the most important people in the whole universe – Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman.

This is the story of how they started the apocalypse.

Several Weeks Before

Eren gunned the Impala down the empty road. The high speed and the windows down made Mikasa's hair fly all over, but she didn't seem to mind. She was gazing up at the sky through the front wind shield, staring at the stars that were turning into little blurs as they drove.

Mikasa reached out and turned down the radio right in the middle of an extremely loud and head-banging song. She sighed. "This new case is worrying me."

Eren didn't take his eyes off the road. "Why?"

"I just have a bad feeling about it."

Eren grinned. "Mikasa, how many monsters have we taken down? It'll be fine."

Mikasa resumed staring out the wind shield. "I'm not sure, Eren. I have a feeling this is something bigger than what we're used to."

"We'll be fine," Eren said again, as he added more pressure to the gas pedal. "Besides, if we do die, we'll go down fighting, right? I think it's better than dying of a heart attack, or something, at least."

Mikasa was silent for a moment. She looked down at her hands when she finally did speak. "Eren…don't say things like that."

"Like what?"

"That we'll…go down."

Eren huffed, knowing that by "we" she meant him. "Mikasa. You don't need to worry. Let's just focus on getting the job done."

"Eren…." Mikasa started. She continued to stare at her hands. "Eren…please. Just be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

"Eren."

"As long as you promise to stay safe too, okay?"

"Fine."

"Anyways," Eren said, trying to change the subject. "Let's talk business. Do you have the picture Levi sent you?"

Mikasa took a phone out of her pocket and went to the email app. She tapped on the message titled Hey brats, here's a new case. She opened on the file attached to it.

It opened up to showed several pictures of a young woman who would've been rather pretty, except for the fact that she had blood running down her face and huge gaping black holes where her eyes were supposed to be.

"Levi told me that they had held a search party for the victim when she had gone missing. Several hours later, they found her behind a bush in the local park like this." Mikasa turned the phone towards Eren, and he flicked his eyes away from the road for a second to glance at it. "He also said that she found was dead upon their arrival, and no traces – except for some black residue – of her eyes were found."

"Okay," Eren said, internally cringing at the thought. "Can you think of anything that does that?"

"There were no demon omens in the area that night," Mikasa said. "So we can rule that out. Blood-sucking monsters go after blood, flesh eating ones don't leave anything behind…. That's already two categories it can't be in."

"What about a ghost?"

"No, this happened to another woman, and man, a few weeks before in a completely different town. Ghosts stay rooted to one spot."

"Should we call Hanji, then? If anyone knows all about the things that go bump in the night, it's her."

"Wouldn't Levi already have done that?"

"I'm not sure – he once told me that he finds her annoying."

"He finds everyone annoying."

"I think he has a special place in his heart that gets especially irked by her."

"I'll call Hanji, then."

Mikasa went to her contacts list and chose one of the nine numbers that were in there. She heard ringing when she held it up to her ear.

"Hello?" Hanji's voice said through the phone. "Mikasa?"

"Hello, Hanji. Did Levi already call you about this case?"

"That man doesn't call me ever since I kept him up all night talking about lamia." Mikasa heard Hanji giggle. "What do you need?"

"We were wondering if you knew of any creature that steals eyes? Maybe melts them?"

"Human eyes?"

"Yes."

"Ooh, sounds interesting. I'm actually not sure at the moment. Just give me a while to think. It's on the tip of my tongue. I'll call you when I find out."

"Alright, thanks, Hanji." Mikasa hung up and turned to Eren. She looked almost shocked. "She doesn't know what it is."

Eren's eyebrows shot up. "Well, this is a first. Hanji's basically a walking encyclopedia about anything to do with these bastards. She even knows the different between a skinwalker and a shifter."

"They're a different species, Eren."

"But they basically do the same thing."

"One turns into an animal, Eren. The other just changes their appearance."

"Whatever." Eren rolled his eyes and reached for the radio. "As long as I have you here to remember that, I'll never need to know it."

"So what do we do now?"

"What do you mean? We wait until Hanji calls us back. The case is still a couple hundred miles away, and its night time. We take it easy for now."

Mikasa nodded and resumed her previous activity of staring out the windshield, up at the night sky. She was quiet for a second, then yawned.

"How much farther until the next town?"

Eren squinted across the flat, desert land, into the distance. He could see lights up ahead. "I'd say about ten miles."

"You can turn the music back up then – they play good songs at this hour – but turn it down when we ride in there. We don't want to wake anyone up."

"Want to stop for dinner there?"

"Let's stop for the night there. I need my four hours."

"Sure." Eren smiled and rolled his eyes, knowing that fact to be true. He reached out for the radio nob and turned it all the way up, blasting an ACDC song. He nodded to rhythm a bit and Mikasa cracked a rare smile. One thing they both would always love; good, old fashioned, rock 'n roll.

"Oh, this is a good song," Eren commented as a new one started, the opening notes being an electric guitar wailing. "I think it's by-"

Eren stopped. Mikasa sat up in her seat and slowly reached for the knife in her boot.

"Do you hear that?" she asked.

Static.

Eren turned the stations' nob. He caught a few words of another song before they heard it again.

White noise. Static.

A sign a demon was near.

They shared a glance. Mikasa turned off the radio and they pulled over on the side of the road. Eren pulled out his shotgun full of rock salt. Mikasa took some holy water out of the glove compartment. They waited.

A minute passed. Eren looked at Mikasa. "Do you think it's –?"

She shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips. She nodded at Eren and slowly opened the car door. He copied her.

They both walked towards the trunk, where the real toys were. Eren popped it open, revealing the Devil's Trap they had painted in there. He moved some knives and guns to the side, making room. They might have to take another passenger.

Mikasa surveyed the empty road. They were in Nevada, so it was the norm to drive at least three days to reach the next town. She squinted over the flat land and saw the lights of the small town, probably with no more than five hundred inhabitants. A powerful demon could destroy a town like that within ten minutes.

"What do you think it is?" Eren whispered to her. "Do you think there's a crossroad nearby?"

Mikasa shook her head. "No, the next town is straight up ahead. There's no need to go anywhere else, so there's probably no crossroad for miles around."

Another tense silence fell over them, and they both gripped their weapons more tightly as the clock ticked on. After five minutes of standing out there, something finally happened.

The wind blew.

It was soft at first, almost chilly in the night air. Eren shivered and a sour look crossed his face when Mikasa didn't. He watched as some dust flew around in the dark.

Suddenly, however, it picked up. Dirt flew hard in each of their faces and filled their nostrils. Mikasa's hair went wild around her head. Eren planted his feet firmly in the ground, feeling as though the wind would knock him over. (And it almost did; he got pushed back a few feet.)

The glass on their car burst and soon enough, a terrible sound rang in their ears. It was like the sound of someone scratching a chalkboard, mixed with a badly tuned guitar being used incorrectly in an amp, only multiplied in loudness by ten. It kept getting higher, too. It was probably breaking the sound barrier by the time Eren was smart enough to cover his ears. He looked over at Mikasa to see her doing the same thing.

One gust of wind came on strong, and knocked Mikasa off her feet. Eren tried making his way over to her, but ended up falling himself. He tumbled on the ground for moment, trying to prevent banging his head on the car when something changed.

It all stopped.

They both took a moment to catch their breath. Mikasa was the first one to speak as they both sat up. "Are you alright, Eren?"

He swallowed. "I'm okay. Are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Good. Great." He nodded, heart still pounding. "What the hell was that?"

Mikasa shook her head. "I don't know."

A/N: Hey, just the author here with some ending notes.

Okay, so this is based on the drama series Supernatural, which is an amazing television show. It's not going to be exactly alike, but it will be similar. You don't need to watch Supernatural to read this fic. But I would recommend it. Not because I'll be referencing it. Just because it's a good show.

(If you watch Supernatural, let me just geek out for a moment with you and explain a few things. If not, skip this part. Okay, so basically Eren is in the role of Sam and Mikasa is in the role of Dean. Armin will Cas. (Love both of them!) Levi and Hanji will both sorta be Bobby. Marco is Chuck, except I'm giving him a bigger part. Okay, that's done.)

Alrighty, kith and kin. That's all I have to say. Drop a review? Please? *Puppy dog eyes*