**written by: thesketchytepe**
12:33 AM
As their feet pounded against the forest floor and the chilly night wind whipped at their skin, Sasha couldn't get the sound of that distant shot out of her head. That was Jean and Marco and the killer. They were out there somewhere, fighting for their lives. Her stomach ached at all the possibilities that could've happened just then. Marco was carrying the rifle when they left—did he shoot the killer? Was he dead? Did the shot go up in the air or in the trees and didn't hit anything at all? What if something got mixed up and now the killer had the gun? Was Jean or Marco—?
She slapped a hand to her mouth and swallowed a painful groan. No, God, please no. Historia was already dead and Ymir was still missing. No more can happen tonight; she couldn't handle another drop of blood. She didn't know what she'd do if something were to happen to anyone else.
The same thing started to happen when she found Eren stumble through the door with Historia in his arms: reminiscences crashed against her mind like the waves of a hurricane, overwhelming her senses and drowning her in fear and mourning. Memories of Marco's smiling face and kind promises and helping hands made her eyes water, but the recollections of Jean made her chest crack and a sob escape her throat.
She didn't have anything against Marco, of course not. She loved him with all her heart and thought he was a literal angel that she had the honor to meet, but she'd known Jean longer, had more memories with him. They went to the same school together along with Connie, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. She remembered the several trips to the mall she took with Connie and Jean, munching on giant pretzels while copying poses the mannequins made in each store window. She recalled that time Jean spent the night at Connie and Sasha's apartment and he mistakenly fell asleep before them—Connie had placed large googly eyes on his closed eyelids while she snapped a few pictures, holding back her giggles as much as she could. She treasured the times they'd pick up fast-food and then go to the park or their apartment or even just sit in the middle of a parking lot. They'd talk about everything and anything as they nibbled on their burgers and the feeling of complete ease and happiness that'd sat in her chest couldn't compete with anything else.
All these memories weighed heavily in her stomach and she gripped at her sweater, feeling the unbearable pain that sat there and the loss of oxygen to her brain. She slowed her pace to try and catch her breath, but Connie tugged on her hand harder.
"C'mon, Sash," he whispered. "C'mon, we're almost there."
She huffed and began running again.
I can't do this, she whimpered to herself. I can't keep going. We've been running forever; I feel like I'm gonna pass out. I can't even tell where we're going.
She peered into the blackness. She could see Connie dragging her behind him and the faint outlines of Reiner and Berthold ahead. Her eyes flew around them wildly to catch anything else besides the dark pine trees or crumpled leaves beneath her feet. But it somehow made her head swirl even more, twirling into an oblivion that punctured her stomach and made her limbs twitch toward safety, wherever that may be.
A sudden flash of heat swiped across her face and her left leg grew a mind of its own and jerked to the side. She tripped over her own foot and she fell forward, collapsing onto Connie's lower back. He crashed onto the muddy ground and she landed on the back of his short legs. A grunt left Connie's lips and Sasha could hear Reiner and Berthold stop dead in their tracks before running their way back to them.
"You guys okay?" Berthold whispered at the same time Reiner muttered, "Get up, you two."
Sasha's hands trembled as she weakly grabbed at Connie's legs. He attempted to get back up, but was pulled back each time he tried.
"Sasha, come on, let's go," he mumbled, twisting around to look at her.
She didn't budge. It was too much, the pain in her stomach, the pounding of her head. She was losing her breath and sweat was pouring from her in rivers. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking and she felt random parts of her body twitching like she was a bug that got stomped on by some curious toddler, left out on the pavement in the boiling sun.
Underneath her, she felt Connie's legs stiffen in fear before they shuffled around so that he was now hovering over her. He pulled at her arms and then gently flipped her over with her head in his lap. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on her breathing as he pressed a hand to her forehead.
"Oh my God, she's burning up," Connie gasped.
"She's been running forever and she's scared shitless," Reiner replied. "Of course she's burning up."
She heard the crunching of leaves and another presence lean over her.
"Sasha, are you okay?" came the small concerned voice of Berthold. "What's wrong?"
A tear slid down her temple which felt extremely cool against her skin. Her left hand jolted as she tried to wipe it away and her limb ended up smacking Connie's knee. "I feel so gross," she panted. "I'm so hot and-and I can't breathe and my head hurts. My stomach hurts too. But oh my God, Jean's out there. Jean and Marco…" She sobbed quietly to herself.
Connie began poking at her; Berthold shifted around in the leaves next to her.
"You think it could've been something she ate?" Berthold asked.
"She had all sorts of things tonight," Connie answered. "Ho-hos, soda, Reiner's brownies, corn dogs. She downed that whole bowl of popcorn Eren made."
"Does this happen often?"
"She eats a lot, but she doesn't get sick too much. She's had food poisoning a shit ton of times."
"This isn't like that!" Sasha cried, opening her eyes. She saw Connie's golden brown eyes flick around her face like the panicked wings of a baby bird and Berthold's long face peek into her line of vision. She could dimly see the twinkling of the stars above the trees and the heavy darkness crowding around the corners of her vision.
I feel like I'm losing myself, like I'm slipping away, she thought to herself. She held up her hands close to her face so she could get a good look at them. They twitched and grabbed at the air on their own free will and her fingernails were a ghostly white. They looked like zombie hands as if she were trying to dig her way out of this hellish grave that was the darkened woods.
"My hands, they won't stop shaking. I'm so fucking tired."
Her hands fell to her face and, at the same time, her hip flinched upwards and her right leg shifted to the side. Another twitch stabbed at her bicep and her right leg jolted again to the side.
Connie grabbed at her hands as she started twitching uncontrollably. "Oh my God, is she having a seizure?"
"N-No," Berthold whimpered, though the uncertainty was clear in his voice. "It would be more violent, right? Maybe it's a convulsion of some kind?"
"Why the fucking hell would she be convulsing right now?"
"Listen," Reiner spoke up, voice low. "You need to quiet down and we need to get going. We can't just stay here."
"We can't just go either," Connie fired back. "Something's wrong with Sasha."
"Did you not hear the fucking gunshot? We have to get going now." He growled the last word like a cornered dog.
"Sasha can't go anywhere like this. We-We have to do something!"
"We're closer to the barn at this point," Berthold said. "Should we take Sasha there and then go out and find Jean and Marco if they aren't already there?"
"Sounds like a plan," Reiner agreed.
"No, but, wait—"
Reiner had no care for whatever argument Connie was trying to conjure. He bent down and then Sasha felt herself being lifted into the air, still flopping around like a fish out of water. She loosely grabbed onto his collar and peeked over his giant shoulder. Berthold was on his feet, clutching the shotgun tightly in his huge hands. Connie's frightened stare never left Sasha as he scrambled to his feet and began sprinting after Reiner as if he wanted to be the one to carry Sasha to safety.
Her ponytail flapped wildly in the wind and the cool breeze felt nice against her burning skin. But that obviously didn't fix her aching stomach, twitching limbs, or painful headache. She covered her mouth with her other hand and squeezed her eyes shut again.
What's going on? I haven't felt this sick in a long time. What type of sick am I? My stomach started hurting shortly after we decided to put a movie in, but I ignored it. People's stomachs hurt all the time and it turns out to be nothing. Was it really something I ate? It can't be food poisoning, right? Everything I ate came from a wrapper or sealed can. I did have some of Reiner's brownies and that whole bowl of popcorn Eren made, though. But Reiner, Berthold, and Connie had the brownies too, and they seem fine. Eren's popcorn came from a bag, right? I didn't taste anything different from other bags of popcorn I've had in the past. But I didn't see him make it…
Her eyes began to burn as more tears clawed at her close eyelids, trying to dig their way out. It was all too much; her shattered heart couldn't take anymore. Can't it all just stop? Why was this happening? So many catastrophes in a row and it didn't look like things were getting any better. Who was this crazy killer exactly and what did he want? Was he just going for Eren or was he after all of them? Nothing was making any sense.
Please just sto—
Boiling heat leapt to her throat as fast as Reiner was running and, despite her hand covering her mouth, she couldn't hold back the mess that pushed its way past her tongue and clenched teeth. A sickening choking sound escaped her as a thick liquid spewed all over her hand and squeezed pass her trembling fingers. It felt warm in her palm and she could sense a few little chunky pieces stuck on her lips.
Reiner had stumbled to a stop; Sasha felt like a roasted chicken with its head cut off once the cool October air no longer brushed against her sweaty face. "Ugh, fuck," Reiner spat. He didn't sound angry but surprised as if he couldn't believe Sasha just puked all over him. Normally she'd be humiliated, but, given the circumstances, embarrassment didn't even flicker across her mind.
Just as she peeled open her eyes again, those stinging tears flowed down her cheeks and seeped between her fingers. Reiner shook his blond head and then peered at her, his expression a mixture of shock and fear. Because she was so close to him, she was able to see through the darkness well enough to notice the deep red spatter that was sprinkled across his jawbone, neck, and his white T-shirt underneath his brown leather jacket.
Her eyes widened. Deep red?
She pulled her shaking hand away from her mouth and saw the black mess that completely coated her palm and fingers and wrist. It was very warm and sticky and, upon closer inspection, she found the mushy remains of tiny popcorn bits smashed against her skin.
"Oh my God," she sobbed, feeling more soggy pieces drop onto her collarbone as she moved her lips. "Oh my God."
Berthold and Connie stopped as well. "What, what?" she heard Connie's panicked voice. His feet scuttled around Reiner to peer at Sasha. "What's going—" She didn't see him—she was too shocked to turn her head his way—but she heard the horrible gasp echo into her eardrum. "Is-Is that blood? Oh my God, is that blood?"
"We have to get to the barn," Reiner muttered, "right now."
"B-But Sasha—"
Reiner wasn't about to get into another argument and just started running once again. Sasha's leg twitched and kicked his hip, but he kept on going, holding onto her tighter. As she stared at her bloody hand, she felt her head pulse with agony, her arm twitch against Reiner's chest, her sweaty hair sticking against her face, and the terrible feeling of betrayal punch her in the gut, making her want to throw everything up, cut out her stomach if she had to.
She lost it all; she felt it gush out of her like the sudden twist of a faucet. Her sobs grew louder and her limbs started flying as if she were trying to get away from the poison inside of her. Her body twitched and jerked around, but Reiner held onto her with such strength that he could've easily snapped her back in half if he wanted to.
"He's trying to kill me!" she shrieked. "He's inside of me! He killed Jean and now he's going to kill me!"
"Sasha, be quiet," Reiner hissed but the words bounced against her skull. Her brain was on fire and no wash of rationality could save it.
"Get him out of me!" she screamed into the dark. "He's going to kill us all! Oh my God, please make it stop! Just stop, please!"
She cried and cried the longer they ran which never ended; these woods were a labyrinth, changing their destination like the flip of a switch each time they got closer. The dark that surrounded them oozed into her thoughts like an infection and stained any positive idea that might've been stuck in there. This couldn't be how she was to die. It was so sudden, so violent. Why did he do this to her?
"Berthold, get the door!" Reiner's voice eventually reached her ears after what seemed like an eternity.
Sasha's heavy head turned to the left and she could dimly make out a square structure. The darkness clouding the corners of her vision prevented her from seeing any details of the building, but she knew it to be the love barn that Ymir was supposed to be hiding in.
Berthold, who had been running beside Reiner, pumped his long legs even harder and, soon enough, he was far ahead of them, plunging himself into darkness to get closer to the barn's door. Sasha listened to the loud creaking of the old door being shoved open and Berthold's tall, skinny form eventually came back within her sight as he held it open for her, Reiner, and Connie. She could barely make out the rifle shaking in his hand and the terrified look he carried in his puppy-dog eyes before Reiner sharply turned into the barn.
It was much lighter in here than it was outside—it wasn't bright like a fully-lit home, of course, but the lantern on the floor casted Reiner's gigantic shadow across the room and Sasha could vaguely spot out shovels and brooms lining against the wooden wall and the large barrels of hay scattered about. The smell of something burning wafted up her nostrils like a summertime barbeque. Just as another surge of pain pierced into her temple, she heard someone new call her name, though it sounded as if she were underwater and this person was at the edge of the pool, beckoning her back to come up for air. It was low and frightened and then she heard their heavy footfalls as they raced from somewhere across the room.
She twisted around in Reiner's arms. She knew those footfalls from anywhere—she always made fun of him for it, walking with his heels as if he were the giant that came to snuff out Jack and his skyscraper of a beanstalk. His horse face eventually came within her blurry vision and she could've died of happiness at the sight.
"Oh my God, Jean, you're alive!" she squeaked, her voice hoarse from screaming and crying. "Thank God you're alive."
"What the hell happened to you?" he demanded of her. His eyes were as big as golf balls and his teeth were clenched in the coldness of fear. "Are you okay? Why-why are you covered in blood? Sasha?"
"She's sick," Reiner responded for her as he gently lowered her down onto the cold, hard ground. "I don't know how, but she just started puking blood and she keeps on twitching like she's having a seizure or something. There's something wrong with her."
Her quivering hand grabbed at Jean's sleeve as if she were a baby discovering that she had limbs for the first time. "Where's Marco? Is he okay?"
Jean's hand was freezing (thank God); he gripped her hand, her life, and held on tightly. "Yeah, he's…he's okay. He'll be fine."
"I'm here, Sasha," Marco answered at the same time Jean spoke. He kneeled into her line of sight and her heart stopped for a moment. Dark spots caked his clothes and pieces of dead leaves were stuck in his hair. A shaky line shaped his round nose and more dark spots dripped from his nostrils. Was he shot? Was that blood? But when Marco moved around, she saw those dark spots had shape to them and were solid.
She then breathed a sigh of relief. It was dirt. He was covered in dirt.
Connie then fell to the floor, completely out of breath, and grabbed Sasha's other hand, her bloodied one. He squeezed tightly and she noticed that he was on the verge of tears. "You're okay, Sash," he whimpered to her. "We made it. You're gonna be just fine."
"What the fuck happened?" Jean asked Connie and Reiner. "Did something happen to the cars? Why the fuck are Connie and Sasha here?"
"Fucker slashed the tires," Reiner growled in panted breaths. "We thought using the car alarms would distract the guy for a moment while we ran here."
As he filled Jean and Marco in, Sasha felt the freckled boy poke and prod at her body, dripping with all sorts of disgusting fluids. He asked her questions that a doctor would ask at a checkup: "Does this hurt?" "What was the last thing you've eaten?" "Take a deep breath." She answered him the best she could and obeyed his every command, but everything was becoming darker and heavier.
She looked around the room as Marco tried his absolute best to fix her. The Love Barn wasn't really showing a lot of love. There were tools everywhere and she felt itchy lying on all the spare hay scattered on the ground. Marco had brought the lantern closer to her, so everyone could fully see the absolute disaster Sasha had become.
She finally noticed that Berthold wasn't hovering over her like the rest of them. Her eyes searched for him, using the pulsing light next to her to her advantage. They landed on the space between Jean and Marco and found him crouched down with an arm in his hand. The arm belonged to a tall body also lying on the ground. Her eyes squinted, peering into the blackness. Hazily, she noticed how red the hand seemed to be. Not bloody kind of red, but like a burn kind of red. Splotches of purple zigzagged along its fingers. The body was dressed in a black leather jacket, ripped jeans, and checkered Vans. Berthold's body was shielding Sasha's view of the body's face, but she already knew who it was. After all, they had come for her.
"Ymir—" she tried to call out but was interrupted by another surge of blood rushing up her throat. She whipped to the side and let it splatter onto the concrete beside her, some of which stained Connie's knee. All the boys crowding around her made some terrified noise in response to her condition: Jean jerked back and cursed but never once let go of her hand, Marco yelped and pulled her hair out of her face (her ponytail had come undone and the band was probably stuck somewhere in her locks), Connie's gasp sounded more like a hiccup and she felt a tear splash against her cheek, Reiner hissed through his teeth and peered down at her worriedly, not really sure how to help.
They began talking over one another and Sasha sobbed for the hundredth time that night, calmness going right out the window. Ymir and Historia were dead. They will never go on that Europe trip they both had worked so hard for and they'd never marry. They were now corpses who died in the same grave together, in this hellhole that was the Jaeger cabin and woods. The killer had made his mark; he sent his message across as clear as day.
They were all going to die, and he was working on Sasha now.