A light ringing could be heard in the far off distance.
'This was it,' Mikasa told herself as she reached down into the darkness to grip his hand.
The sound of church bells increased.
'Come home...Eren,' she whispered.
She looked into his frightened green eyes. They were filled with happiness that she was there. Relief. It made her happier than she could even comprehend. He knew she was there to serve him. To save him.
'Grab my hand. Eren.'
He began to raise his arm as his lips began to move. She strained to hear him, but his words were cut away as the ringing picked up several hundred decibels. She recoiled as it threatened to burst her eardrums. Suddenly dizzy, the setting began to fade, the furniture in the room diminishing into the black.
Mikasa reached out desperately for Eren but then stopped in horror. His face had started to twist and contort. Without any further warning, his soft skin began to tear and peel. She let out a silent scream as the process abruptly doubled in speed, his face turning raw and bloody as his torso began to fall away like sand. His hands went next, then his legs, grain by grain until his torso and arms had spilt away, leaving only his head.
She reached both her hands out in morbid desperation and picked up Eren's severed head. It was surprisingly light, almost buoyant like the sickening smile set on his face. The remainder of the skin covering the bloody mass began to melt. It came away in thick globules like candle wax, coating Mikasa's fingers and hands in a sticky sheen. She screamed and dropped the head as the church bells hit an unearthly volume.
Eren's head rolled across the carpet, leaving a slime trail of blood and tissue in its wake until only the cold white of his skull remained. The only exception was his bright green eyes. They stared blankly up at Mikasa as her stomach churned, stared at her with glassy expectation. Mikasa wretched.
She rose so suddenly from the nightmare she almost knocked Kitz clean out as he attempted to rouse her from the violent dream. His reddened face glared back down at her from where they lay in bed. 'For god sakes, Mikasa! I have a conference early tomorrow. Answer that bastard phone before I smash the damned thing!'
Mikasa had no idea what the crazed man spitting in her face was referring to. It took her a few moments more to register that she was in her bedroom, that it was 3:17 am and that she was covered in a cold sweat. She turned her head to see Kitz return to his side of the bed, exasperatedly tossing the sheets over himself once more.
She sat controlling her heavy breath for a few seconds more before her full awareness finally alerted her to the relentless ringing of the mobile phone on her dresser table. Kitz made another turbulent grumble now verging on genuine anger. Taking the cue, she kicked her wet sheets of herself and stumbled to the far end of the room. Mikasa scooped up the vibrating phone just as it rang off. She'd missed it.
Biting down her sudden irritation, Mikasa illuminated the screen to discover which bold individual would ring at this late hour. She was greeted with a simple unknown number. Dissatisfied, she slipped the phone into the pocket of her nightgown and left the room. She needed some air.
Crossing the hall, she entered the study and continued across the cold laminate flooring until she came to two large glass doors. She swung the leftmost open and stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the orchard. It was still pitch black. Ursa Major glimmered splendidly above, its numerous neighbours proudly illuminating the last night of summer. A light scent of maple wood filled the night air.
Mikasa placed her phone on an ornamental stone table resembling a turtle and placed her hands on the balcony rail. She breathed steadily, bewitched by the beauty of the full moon. By all respects, it was a perfect night. She let out a sigh, calming herself a last notch before trying to recall the fragments of the nightmare she had just witnessed.
It was no good. Frustrated by her fading memories, she turned her attention back to the sky and tried to forget.
/
She sat for an hour or two in the calming grip of the advancing morning. By this point, the dream had been reduced to a vague mishmash of emotion and horror show imagery. Dawn was advancing. She needed to get some rest. Mikasa took a last look at the diminishing pinpricks of light spotting the brightening sky, rose from her cane garden chair and started inside. Before she could reach the door, her phone rang.
She froze. All the calm restored by the last couple of hours was undone in an instant. The hairs pricked up on the back of her neck, and an icy dread swept through her person despite the warm morning air. She turned to regard the small vibrating object on the turtle table. It glared back at her. She hesitated, steeled herself, then walked over and picked it up.
Unknown number. Just as she had suspected. She gently swiped accept and put the phone to her cold ear. There was a small pause before the other person spoke.
'Is this Mikasa Ackerman?'
Mikasa exhaled, 'Yes, and who is this.'
'This is Annie Leonhart.'
It didn't take Mikasa any time to recall the name.
'From highschool?'
'I'm glad you remember me. It'll make things easier.'
'Why are you calling at this hour?' Mikasa asked, irritated to find the woman's nonchalant tone hadn't changed in seven years. 'And how did you get my numbe-'
'I know where Eren is.'
Mikasa choked on the words still caught in her throat.
/
I love setting fantasy stories in the modern world. It makes me feel so much closer to the characters when they are in a familiar setting. And it's fun to see them in different circumstances and conflicts. I hope you're all enjoying this so far.