A little something that I wrote when I was bored one day while me and my family went to the province for All Souls' Day.
This is most probably the crappiest shit you will ever read so fair warning.
Note: I'm not quite sure about the story's setting, but I think it's fictional. Or IDK, I'm not giving away anything. Also, Levi is younger here than in canon.
Disclaimer: Shingeki no Kyojin belongs to Isayama Hajime, the bastard.
The sky overhead was a dark gray, one that promised heavy rain, as the cart bumped and rattled on the winding dirt road, the mud-caked wheels rising up and down with the ruts that ran along the path. The tall grasses that lined the road, which were all a lifeless brownish-yellow color, bowed down in the low desolate wind as the cart and its passengers passed.
A single coach sat at the head of the cart, leading the horses along the road. The man, dressed in filthy dark brown clothes with an old straw hat pulled low over his deep-set eyes, scratched at the unruly stubble on his chin and took a drag at the cigar hanging from his lips before reaching behind him to scratch vigorously at his bottom.
Levi had never seen a more revolting sight.
And the fact that he was nearest to the man was no consolation.
Heaving a silent sigh, Levi turned his gaze away from the man's disgusting display and towards the dark interior of the cart. Sitting all around him and taking up all the space inside the cart were different faces, both young and old, all silent, all looking equally frightened and uncertain, and all awaiting their imminent execution.
The air was heavy with the clopping of horse's hooves and the knowledge of a fate that could no longer be escaped from and to Levi, there was nothing more suffocating than this.
His dark gray eyes scanned each terrified face. Others looked completely hopeless, faces pale, eyes wide and brimming with tears while colorless lips trembled and wrinkled hands shook. These were mostly the women, young girls accused of a crime they had never committed and taken away from their families, wives ripped away from their love's arms, mothers pulled away from their children's side, old women dragged off their rocking chairs.
Levi pitied them all.
Others still looked terrified yet set, like they had accepted their fate but still could not quite believe it, or were not yet ready for it. These were mostly from the men, laborers who worked under the sweltering sun everyday all to earn enough for their family, merchants and shopkeepers all still worrying about how their family would manage without them, and even young boys barely out of their teenage years, looking confused and scared.
Levi pitied them all.
And yet, there were others still whom you could not read. People who looked cold and impassive, seeming as if not to care about their current situation at all. People whose faces betrayed none of the fear they felt underneath. These people were but only a few in the cart, a mixture of genders and age.
Levi was one such person.
But given his status and his upbringing, it was only natural.
He was a prisoner here after all. A prisoner of war.
And one of the very first things they taught you in the military (or at least, in the place Levi hailed from), was to never betray anything, not even your emotions and most especially not your intentions, to the enemy.
As a loyal corporal of his land, Levi betrayed none of these, even if he was but minutes away from his death.
He came here as a corporal serving under his nation, he shall die as a corporal serving his nation.
Even as he had been herded into the cart from the dark, damp prison they had kept him in, Levi immediately got the feeling that he was different from the cart's other occupants although they all shared the same fate now. It was not only the fact that he was still wearing his captain's uniform, which was surprisingly still quite neat and pressed, although now a bit soiled.
It was the fact that among all the others, he alone was calm.
He alone looked composed and unruffled, as if this was day was no different from the rest, and he alone looked ready to face his destiny.
He alone looked like a man who had absolutely nothing to lose.
As Levi began to lose interest in the people surrounding him, it was then that he realized that someone was watching him.
With the sharpness of a fox and the accuracy of an eagle, the corporal turned to look directly in front of him.
Sitting directly across him, his legs tucked close to his body, was a boy of about fifteen, with slightly tan skin, messy dark brown hair and bright light blue eyes fixed right at him. Levi's piercing gray eyes locked with the boy's turquoise ones. The blue eyes blinked in confusion then widened as they realized that they had made contact with the foreign soldier's before they quickly looked away. The boy himself looked somewhat flushed as he turned away from Levi.
And somehow, what Levi felt when his eyes had made contact with the boy's was not pity, like what he had felt towards the rest occupying the cart, but strangely enough, curiosity.
Questions suddenly began to fill the soldier's mind. Who is this boy? Where is he from? How old is he? More importantly, why is he here? What had he done to land himself the death sentence in this country?
Levi's grey eyes remained on the boy until slowly, the boy lifted his eyes and they met with the corporal's once again. And this time, he didn't look away.
Their eyes stayed fixed on each other as the cart rattled up along the road and even as they both could hear the bloodthirsty roaring of a crowd in the distance.
The moment the cart was close enough for the occupants to hear the crowd's shouting, every person cringed or else froze with fear, wide eyes only becoming wider and white faces only becoming paler. Sobs could be heard uttered from the throats of the occupants as they covered their mouths with their trembling hands or else clasped them together in fervent prayer. Hearts began to beat faster in their chests as wild eyes traveled from face to face, searching for any consolation that could be found.
Yet two still remained quiet and unmoving, both sitting at the far end of the cart, eyes still on each other.
And although the expressions on their faces betrayed nothing and although not a single word was exchanged between the two, with just a simple meeting of eyes, the two reached an understanding that no other person in that cart could possibly understand.
Neither of the two knew where it came from, nor why or how. The moment their gazes had met, they felt like they understood everything about each other and were now readier than ever before to accept their fate.
The crowd's roaring was now deafening as the cart passed through a throng of people, shouting, cheering, singing, jeering at the prisoners inside the cart. The cart's occupants began to clamp their hands over their ears, eyes squeezed shut as they desperately tried to drown out the crowd's noise.
Levi narrowed his eyes at the boy before finally breaking their gazes and looking away towards the head of the cart. The boy as well averted his gaze towards the crowd outside, bravely facing them with a calm yet determined visage.
With an almost sickening jolt, the cart jerked to a stop and the coachman jumped off and began to lumber towards the back of the cart. Upon reaching it, he pulled open the back of the cart and gestured impatiently for the prisoners to come out.
At first, there was silence as everyone in the cart looked at each other, fear and uncertainty clear in their eyes, and as not a single person moved. Before long, the coachman grew impatient and grabbed at the first person he could put his hands on, which was a young girl who was the one sitting nearest to the cart's opening.
The girl yelped as the man's beefy hand clamped around her tiny wrist and as she was forcefully pulled out of the cart. She fell down to the ground below, where she was splattered in mud, tears streaming down her cheeks, as the crowd laughed and jeered and cheered.
The coachman only snorted before pulling her up to her feet roughly and slapping her behind like an animal, urging her to move forward. The girl gave a terrified squeak and hesitated for a second, before she began to timidly walk forward, her whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind as she slowly made her way towards a raised platform on which stood a formidable device; a wooden stand with a hole big enough for a large head and right above it, a sharp metal blade shining bright and horrible.
The coach man began to pull all the prisoners out of the cart one by one, after which each one began to make their way forward, following the young girl towards the guillotine as all remaining hope faded.
The boy was brought out of the cart before Levi. Even as the coachman's hand began groping inside the cart for the boy's, the boy obediently climbed out of the cart and jumped down on the ground before following after the other prisoners without any reluctance and with a surprising composure.
Levi didn't even wait for the coachman to turn back to the cart before he alighted down on the ground himself and walked after the boy, back straight and expression dignified.
The moment the corporal's military uniform was in view, the noise in the crowd intensified as everybody scrambled to get a view of the enemy's famed Corporal Levi and as everyone clamored to jeer and throw insults at him.
Levi kept his eyes fixed on the back of the boy's head, gray eyes inspecting each strand.
As they reached the raised platform, the coachman prodded Levi's back and the corporal began to climb the steps leading up to the top of the platform.
And there they stood, prisoners falling in line behind the guillotine, awaiting execution.
It was then that some completely lost their dignity and nerve.
They all began to sob and shake violently and some even threw their heads back and cried out in desperation, calling out for someone to save them.
Only Levi and the boy were indifferent.
The first to be executed was the girl.
She was shaking harder than before and she couldn't control her sobs as they racked her entire body. Her wrists had been chaffed raw and red by the string of rope used to tie her hands together and the thin clothes she wore were grimy.
As the coachman gestured her forward, she shook her head vigorously, the messy strands of her straw-colored hair flying as she did so. Her eyes, red, puffy and tear-stained, were on the crowd as they all screamed for her death.
The coachman lunged forward and clasped her wrist.
"No!" The girl screamed in terror as she fought against the man's grip, twisting her hand in an attempt to break free and trying to pull away. "No! I'm innocent! I swear! I'm innocent!"
Her cries did no good however, as the crowd's shouting only grew louder, screaming for her blood, screaming for her head.
The girl screamed as the coachman began to drag her forward. Still she tried to break free, fighting against the man's iron grip as she continued to cry for her innocence.
It didn't take long for the coachman to bring her down to her knees and get her to put her head and her hands through the wood's holes.
And still she continued to resist, screaming and kicking, tears falling from her eyes.
It only took seconds for the blade to fall, and even amid the crowd's cheering, the remaining prisoners' uttered prayers and sobs, the girl continued to scream.
"NO! NO, I'M INNOCENT! NO! N-!"
The crowd cried out in triumph as what remained of the girl's body was released from the guillotine's hold and fell, broken, bloody, lifeless, on the wooden floor of the platform, right in front of the other prisoners.
The coachman gestured for the next prisoner to come forward and one body after another, the platform began to clutter up, the bodies of the dead prisoners creating a small mound.
A few of the prisoners put up a fight, much like the girl, but in the end, it did nothing. Others submitted themselves quietly and obediently, although tears still poured from their eyes and their bodies still shook.
All fell for the same fate.
And before long, it was the boy's turn.
Just as the blade came tumbling down on the last prisoner's exposed neck, the boy turned back to look at Levi, one last time.
Clear blue met piercing gray and in that one moment, the two felt like the calmest people in the whole world.
As the crowd cheered at the death of one more prisoner, the coachman (or more like the executioner now), gestured the boy forward, and he immediately obliged.
The boy met the roaring crowd with a calm, impassive face as he put his hands and his head through the holes in the guillotine.
As Levi watched, he suddenly felt a small sickening lurch in his stomach without knowing the reason why. He forced himself to suck it up as he watched the sharp blade begin to fall.
Time seemed to have slowed down as the corporal watched the blade drop.
A second stretched into a minute, a minute into an hour, an hour into a century, and Levi thought it would never end.
However, as the blade made contact with the flesh, as the crowd cried out, as the first drop of blood splattered on the platform, it seemed like time hadn't even passed at all.
And Levi watched, posture stiff and face as cold as ever, stormy eyes gazing into the turquoise eyes of the boy he had felt a connection with.
And as the coachman gestured him forward, as the crowd shouted and cheered louder than ever, calling for the blood of the last prisoner, Levi knelt down and rested his neck on the bottom of the wooden hole, staring down at the boy's blue eyes as they looked back up at him, and as the rain the gray clouds had been holding in began to fall.
Originally posted on my Tumblr and since a few people seemed to really like it, decided to post it up here, as well as on AO3.
Yeah, I really have no idea where I'm going with this.
This made absolutely no sense, I know.
And this has been your casual reminder that I am not dead!