**written by: thesketchytepe**
12:40 AM
Levi's tone was calm and focused when he said, "Don't do anything stupid, kid, just wait it out." He tried to imitate him by taking deep, steady breaths, but the loud slamming of a body against the back door cut that short.
His eyes flew to the glass door and he had to swallow a scream. He couldn't see who it was at first; all he saw was the outline of an arm and shoulder but eventually they pressed their face against the glass. They rattled the handle and the rapid clicking sound it made reminded him of the ticking of a bomb. For a stupid moment, he thought Levi had whipped out some magic wand and help had already arrived, but once logic settled back in, he realized it'd be more appropriate to believe that somebody else was murdered.
Armin's heart dropped to the ground when he noticed Marco's freckled face, smeared with blood and panic.
"I, okay, I'm—shit, sorry," he stuttered into Eren's phone before ending the call and stuffing it in his pocket.
He ran to the door and threw it open. Marco stumbled in, gasping as if he'd been holding his breath the entire time he was gone, and Jean fell in behind him, quite literally. He collapsed onto his knees, panting like a dehydrated dog. He didn't stay like that for long, however—his raggedy head whipped up and his eyes scanned the dark kitchen they were in.
Armin shut the door and went to help Jean up. "Oh my God, are you guys—"
"Is Eren up here?" Jean interrupted in a sharp whisper.
He blinked. Jean got back up on his feet and peered into the living room around the corner. He was alert, wary, scared shitless. He knew; he knew about Eren.
"No. He's still in the basement with Mikasa and Annie."
Jean looked at him, his dark eyes scrutinizing him from head to foot. "Then, what are you doing here?"
"Eren's phone is working." He pulled it out from his back pocket to show them. "Annie caught him messing with it. She's distracting him now, so I could make a phone call. Levi is on his way with reinforcements."
He nodded his head slowly and then, as if in realization, narrowed his eyes at him. "Did you know Eren was going to do this?"
He was pissed (rightfully so) and he was about to throw fists at anyone who could be associated with Eren and his evil little games. And, in a way, Armin did know. Armin wouldn't stop Jean from punching him in the face or throwing him to the ground because he did deserve it. Armin knew Eren would do something and he didn't do anything to put an end to it.
His eyes avoided Jean's and landed on Marco. He was leaning against the counter, opened beer bottles and red solo cups littered behind him. His chest rose and fell with each panted breath and his own panicked eyes were glued to Eren's phone in Armin's hand. Sprinkles of dirt clung to his shirt and a few pine needles were stuck in his hair and his eyes were red and puffy, but it was the dried blood clotting his nose that captured his attention.
"What happened out there?" he asked Marco specifically. "Where are the others?"
Dread filled his lungs like smoke as soon as he asked the question; he had a terrible feeling that he already knew that too.
Marco glanced up at him and then aimed his stare back to the ground. He thought he saw tears welling in the corners of his dark eyes. He pursed his lips and cracked them open. "We—"
"Ymir and Sasha are dead," Jean interrupted again.
Something in Armin dropped like an atom bomb. It chilled his spine yet his face burned. His vision blurred and his body trembled. Her name bounced around in his mind; he felt like he was going to pass out. He already assumed Ymir was dead when Eren brought in Historia's body and he supposed he mourned for them both in the basement, but…Sasha?
His eyes widened at Jean, trying to see his face through his fuzzy gaze. "What?" His throat was dry as if it were stuffed with a dozen cotton balls. "Sash—"
"Eren killed them both," he clarified. His jaw was locked and he spat through his teeth. "We found Ymir's body in the barn. A fucking shithole shack, not some sexed-up Love Barn like Eren said. Marco thinks she was electrocuted with some kind of a rigged lightswitch. And Sasha…" He sucked in a breath, his eyes glistening in the dark. "She was poisoned or something. She was puking blood and shaking like crazy. She was burning up and she…she…"
Tears slid down his cheeks, yet his furious expression never broke. "Armin, she was fucking terrified. She died screaming and crying."
Armin's shaking hands hovered over his mouth. Sasha's dead. It echoed in his brain like a rain of bullets, each one piercing through his heart until it was shredded to pieces. He thought it would be safer out in the woods than it would be here in the cabin. But three of his friends had died out there. Because he didn't know what to do. He killed them. He killed Ymir, Historia, and dear, sweet Sasha.
The word "poisoned" leapt into his mind amongst the firing self-deprecating insults and unbearable guilt. Murderer, coward, pathetic weakling. The words floated to his mind like bloated corpses of Zeke's victims disposed into the Jaeger's lake. Sasha was poisoned, but how? When? He suddenly remembered when he and Annie first arrived at the Jaeger cabin and she told him to not eat anything that wasn't sealed. The image of Sasha devouring that giant bowl of popcorn Eren made twisted Armin's gut around, making him want to puke all over again.
Eren poisoned the popcorn. He really was trying to kill them all.
Another picture of Eren offering the popcorn to Annie first sent a whole new level of betrayal into his veins—it stole the breath from his lungs and took the strength from his legs, dropping him to the kitchen floor. He grabbed at his hair and stared at the mud coating Jean's Docs which he could barely see through the tears clouding his eyes and jamming his throat.
"Oh, my God," he managed to wheeze out in quiet yet broken sobs.
Eren literally tried to kill Annie as soon as she walked through the front door, right in front of him. He took a completely innocent memory of her and tried morphing it into a pile of tears and blood and pain, what Sasha drowned in. Sasha unknowingly suffered for what was meant for Annie. Dammit, he came here to protect his friends, not sacrifice them. But why didn't he offer it to Armin if he wanted everyone dead? Was he saving something "special" for him like the barn for Ymir and Historia? He didn't know and hated himself for it. Why couldn't he figure this out? He's done nothing but send others to their deaths, ignorant crusaders falling in the place they truly believed they were safe in.
As he moaned into the floor, his heart slowly being torn into millions of pieces, Marco crouched down and took hold of Armin's wrists. He pried them away from his head and mumbled to him, "Armin, stop. You're pulling out your hair."
He looked up at him, at the worried but exhausted look in his dark brown eyes. He peered at his hands. Tuffs of blond hair were tangled in his fingers; he wasn't even aware that he was doing it. Besides, who cared? They had more important matters than his stupid head of hair.
"It's really Eren, isn't it?" Marco breathed. "He's the one doing all of this."
Armin looked back up at him. He heard Annie in the back of his mind: Make it real. He was a fucking idiot—he should've done that in the first place. It would've saved them all from a world of hurt. All of this would've been a bad dream if he just told Levi what he was afraid to admit. With a heavy heart, he confessed to Marco what he should've told Levi a week ago, a few minutes ago: "Yes. Eren helped Zeke kill those people at the hospital and now he's trying to kill us."
Marco blinked and Jean took a step back.
"Wait, what?" Jean whispered. "Eren did what?"
Armin slipped his hands out of Marco's limp clutch and peeked at Jean's shocked and furious face. "I found a box full of things that belonged to the victims at his house a week ago. Their names were on them; he definitely played a role in their murders. He planned, thought thoroughly about their deaths and he's doing the same thing with us."
He wanted to add "his friends" at the end of that sentence but knew that wasn't true anymore.
Marco slowly nodded as if it actually made sense. "I fell," he mumbled, making a glance at Jean. "There was a trap, I think, it was like an open grave and when I tried to climb out, it broke something that filled the grave up. I lost the rifle, but at least I'm alive, thanks to Jean." He looked at his hands. "Someone's got to build such a trap like that."'
He continued ranting: "We also found a bear trap out there. Just in the middle of nowhere, a perfect spot for anyone to stumble into. Historia might've been caught in that, based on those wounds I saw on her calf and forearm. We met Reiner, Berthold, Connie, and…" He swallowed and exhaled. "And Sasha. We met them at the barn and they said the killer slashed the cars' tires, so they set the car alarm off to cause that distraction they needed. You probably heard it in the basement. Reiner, Connie, and Berthold are now heading to the highway to call someone, maybe catch a car passing by."
His gaze traveled back up to Armin. He looked so tired. Of course, he was terrified, but he looked heavy like it was a struggle just to lift his head. Did he even care that Eren was the cause of all this or did he just wanted this night to be over with already?
"If Eren planned this far ahead, then it makes sense that he would have the capability to do the same with those doctors," he agreed.
Jean shook his head. "This is fucking insane. Eren's fucking insane. He's a heartless son of a bitch who likes to see people in pain, the fucker."
"We don't have time to call him names." Armin wiped his hands on his jeans and sighed, but it came out in a shaky wave and didn't really calm his hammering heart at all. He slowly got back on his feet and swiped at his face for the hundredth time that night.
"You guys have to hide," he said. "Eren can't know you're here." He paused and then added, "In fact, he probably already knows."
Marco straightened up and went to lean on his boyfriend's shoulder. Jean wrapped his arms around his waist and held him tightly. Armin glanced at the phone that fell to the ground with him. He picked it up and wondered if he could access all those cameras.
"Go upstairs to Eren's room," he told them. "It's the last door to the right. Maybe you guys can find something there while staying away from him."
"Like what?" Jean asked.
Armin held up the phone. "This is only a piece of the puzzle. In order to put together all of this, he would've needed better equipment and a lot of it. Maybe there's something in his computer or whatever." He paused. "Perhaps he has more belongings of his other victims."
"What about you guys?" Marco offered. "Are Mikasa and Annie okay?"
He hadn't even thought about Mikasa. He closed his eyes, sighed, and opened them again, shaking his head slightly. "Mikasa's a part of this too."
Marco's dirtied face scrunched in confusion and Jean flinched back as if he were slapped across the face. "What? Mikasa's working with Eren?"
"Yes, but I'm not certain how involved she is. She's aware of his actions at least, but I don't know if she's physically helping him or not."
"So, it's just you and Annie down there…"
He glanced up at them through his tousled hair. Jean was visibly getting angrier by the second—his mouth was set in a tight scowl and his small eyes were as sharp as daggers. Marco just couldn't believe it all; he looked so betrayed. The exhaustion weighed on his shoulders heavily and tears lined his eyes. Some of his friends were dead while others were trying to kill them. And then there was Armin, who was somewhere between sacrificing himself and his own companions.
They'll never forgive me for knowing this, will they? Armin thought to himself.
"We'll be fine," he tried assuring them. "You guys go hide until Levi shows up."
"But what about—"
"Please, just go. And be quick—I have to go back downstairs before Eren notices I'm gone."
A tear slipped down Marco's cheek as he pitched the space between his eyebrows. Jean hugged his waist tighter and reached out to squeeze Armin's shoulder. Jean stared at him with a weirdly confident look—he was probably looking forward to busting Eren's ass.
"Alright, but you be careful. And don't fucking die." Jean nodded his head.
Armin nodded, but didn't believe he needed the saving. He did kill Sasha after all; if things did come to that, he prayed that they would just take Annie out of there and leave him behind.
He watched Marco and Jean shuffle into the dark living room and climb the staircase. Even though he couldn't see them that well, he could feel their eyes on him, a last look over the shoulder before being swallowed up in the darkness again.
Fear resettled in his bones as he looked around him, making sure all signs of Jean and Marco's arrival were erased. He opened the back door again to rub away Marco's fingerprints left behind on the glass, kicked some clumps of dirt back out, and straightened the small rug Jean tripped on. His eyes eventually fell back on Eren's phone in his hands. The temptation to investigate was strong—suppose he could access the cameras set up in the cabin or out in the woods? Could he disable traps that were tied to his phone? He bit the inside of his cheek. No, he didn't have enough time. He had to be getting back.
But here was an opportunity to take something back down with him, so Jean and Marco wouldn't have to come flying down the stairs if worse came to worse. He eyed the knife block sitting by the stove. He couldn't take the largest knife with him (that'd be too obvious, bulging in his hoodie pocket) but perhaps he could stuff a steak knife in there? Then he and Annie would both have weapons on them. He'd feel a little more at ease if that were the case.
Just as he turned to grab one, a voice behind him said, "Hey, man."
He froze, his blood running cold, a shiver shredding through his spine. His stomach twisted and pulled itself together like taffy and he could feel two fat beads of sweat roll down his temple. He never felt so cold before—no blizzard or freezer or icy road or foot of snow could ever compare to the chill he felt coating his insides.
I took too long.
He slowly turned around to look at Eren standing by the threshold of the kitchen. He didn't look angry like he expected him to be. Instead he stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring at him almost innocently as if he were a curious child peering at a rabbit hopping across a field.
"What are you doing?" he asked casually.
Armin's eyes skimmed the living room behind him and found it to be vacant. His heart beat wildly, running at the same speed of that frightened rabbit. "Where is she?"
He tilted his head to the side. "Where's who?"
"Annie. Where is she?"
"Downstairs. I noticed you weren't down there, so I came up here looking for you." He blinked, his glowing hazel eyes like a blue flame in a deep dark dungeon. "What are you doing, Armin?"
He suddenly didn't know how to breathe. His cracked lips split open and his chest rose and fell with each strained breath he brought in. His hands started shaking again and he tightened them into fists. He held up the phone as if it were the knife he was reaching for. "Eren, stop this now."
Eren blinked at the device. "Oh, you have my phone. I thought I had lost it for a second." He took a few steps further into the kitchen and stretched out a hand to take it, but Armin quickly threw it against the wall nearest to him, smashing it into a thousand pieces. The sound was loud in the dark silence and made Armin jump.
Eren's jaw dropped, his eyes scanning the shattered mess on the floor and counter. "What the hell, Armin? What was that for?"
"You need to stop, Eren. I know what you've done and what you plan on doing. I called Levi; he's on his way now."
Instead of doing what Armin wanted him to do—get angry or scream that he didn't know what he was talking about—Eren looked at him, hesitated, and then slumped his shoulders.
"Fuck, Armin. You know how much I hate that guy. He stares at me like a fucking creep."
The fear grew stronger in his chest like a tumor. He was treating this like it was a bother, a shame that Levi was coming. It was like he just narrowly missed the bus and had to wait another twenty minutes before moving again.
"Eren."
His killer looked back up at him. He was annoyed, his hands on his hips, his bottom lip set in a pout. Every moment that passed offered more and more evidence that Eren's hands were soaked with their friends' blood.
Armin's eyes burned like fire. "Eren, I know you killed Historia and your father and those people at the hospital. I-I found that box under your bed."
He didn't say or do anything. He just stared at him as if waiting for him to go on.
Armin swallowed and did: "You helped Zeke in killing those doctors and buried them here in the woods. Zeke injected the drugs into the doctors and you're the one who smashed in your own father's face. But you can't do it alone. You need Zeke's help to cover your tracks, to stash the bodies. That's Mikasa's job now. But killing ten people in one night? That's way more than you two can handle. You've set traps throughout the cabin, throughout the whole estate maybe. But things will get bloody—they have already—and you can't conceal what you've done with this amount of damage. You can't keep track of everyone at once, no matter how hard you try. Soon enough, you'll break this innocent façade of yours and start throwing fists. Maybe it's more satisfying that way—you'll get to experience seeing the life drain out of their eyes and then keep their skull as a reminder of the things you've accomplished."
He exhaled. "I-I'm right, aren't I?"
Eren merely stared, expressionless. His hands dropped from his hips and hung at his sides. He was still tainted with the blood of Historia—it was all over his white T-shirt and strong forearms and broad hands. A fleeting memory tugged in the back of Armin's mind: he and Eren were playing out in the rain in his backyard (against Carla Jaeger's wishes), kicking at the mud, hopping in deep puddles, catching as many raindrops as they could. Carla eventually swung open the back door and called them back in with Armin's own mother standing beside her, there to take him back home. As he held onto his mother's hand and let her guide them out the front door, he threw a glance over his shoulder at Eren. He stood motionless in the kitchen as Carla furiously swiped a towel at his face, wiping away the slimy mud and wet leaves that clung to his drenched self. Eren was aware that what he did was wrong, but he simply stood there, covered in his poor choices and, once again, letting his mother clean him back up.
Eren's gaze ultimately shifted to the side, peering out the glass door. "Mikasa said you would figure it out."
Just as the confession left his lips, the sound of faint but rapid footsteps echoed from the basement. The door flew open and the dark silhouette of Mikasa emerged. She jogged around the leather couches and stopped at the threshold of the kitchen, where Eren once stood. Her smooth, white face came into view—her dark eyes were wide with fright and her delicate lips were pulled in a concerned grip. Her hands were spread out in a steady surrender, showing Armin that she wasn't there to hurt him but was prepared to assist Eren if need be.
"Eren, Armin," she breathed, taking two careful steps forward. "What's going on?"
Armin never thought he would think this, but he really had no care for whatever excuse Mikasa was about to make up for Eren's sake. Instead his eyes moved past her and back into the living room. A giant weight lifted from his shoulders once he spotted Annie's blond bun on the top of her head. She was stationed at the opposite side of the kitchen counter and was slowly making her way around it, silent like the dead. Her electric blue eyes flittered between the three of them, but not before making a quick check on Armin's physical state.
She seemed in good shape, so he looked back at his childhood friends.
"Armin said we're here to kill everyone," Eren answered, not looking back at Mikasa. "Just like you said."
"Mikasa, get away from him," Armin warned at the same time Eren spoke.
Her head moved back and forth between them, the uneasiness rising in her eyes.
"Mikasa, come on," Armin tried again. He was a little flabbergasted that she was actually torn between a second chance and the ruination of her life.
"There's no use in hiding it from you anymore," Eren shrugged. His translucent eyes were locked on Armin's and he hardly budged. "I guess it was kinda dumb of me to think that I could keep you in the dark. You usually figure everything out."
He then leaned forward a bit as if he were going to spill some huge secret. "But I get the joy of telling you that you were actually wrong about something. Guess that big brain of yours isn't almighty and powerful."
"Eren." Mikasa's voice trembled and her body shifted his way. Armin was losing her already and Eren hadn't done anything to win her heart back.
"Mikasa," Armin snapped. She looked at him momentarily, but her attention was drawn back to Eren once he opened his mouth again.
"I'm not going to kill you. Honest. Cross my heart and hope to die." He drew an X over his chest.
He didn't believe him. Why should he? Everything that came out of his mouth was a lie; he didn't care about his friends anymore, so why would Armin be an exception?
"No, I'll make sure you get out of this alive. But everyone else? Yeah, they're fucked."
Armin's heart dropped to his feet and shattered all over again. The nonchalance of his tone, the terrible choice of words, the way he barely moved. Was he finally witnessing the monster that had hibernated beneath Eren's skin for God's knows how long?
"Why?" Armin whispered.
"Why what? Why am I keeping you alive or why is everyone else going to die?"
"Eren, please stop." Mikasa reached out to touch his arm, but the sudden twist of his head made her stop in her tracks.
His eyes narrowed, a little irritated with her. "Mikasa, please stop trying to be my mother for one goddamn second, will you?"
She jolted at his harsh, mocking tone and her eyes watered. Armin took his chance and wrapped his fingers around her little wrist and tried pulling her towards him.
"Mikasa, come here," he mumbled, but she only took one willing step back before planting herself between them again. Trying to drag her away from Eren was like trying to push a tree down with his bare hands.
Eren looked back at Armin. "Well, everyone has to die because of you, Armin. If you would've just kept your little mouth shut, then you'd be saving everyone from a whole world of hurt."
He halted at tugging Mikasa but kept his grasp on her. A horribly tight knot formed in the pit of his stomach as the words sank in. "What does that mean?"
"What does that mean?" Eren repeated like he thought Armin was an idiot for asking. The small smirk on his face drops. "I know it was you, Armin. Yeah, it doesn't take a genius to figure out why my therapist asked me some incriminating questions two days after you ran out of my house like a bat out of hell. I know you found my shit. And I know you told Levi and I know Levi told Erwin. I'm not fucking retarded, alright?"
Eren sighed like he was his cat that just threw up on the carpet. He tilted his head at me with his expression softening. "My first instinct was to kill you, I'll admit it. I mean, you can't blame me. I can't have you running around, accusing me of being a cold-blooded bastard, right? That would ruin everything. I was doing the right thing, I was plucking out the bad seeds, but of course, you would never understand and would still have my ass thrown in prison. So you had to die."
Eren shook his head with a tender look on his face. It sent a chill down Armin's spine. "It would've been so easy, Armin. Seriously, you may think you've got the world figured out, but you would've never seen me coming." Eren paused and that affectionate expression of his twists into annoyance.
"But then," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "Mikasa wasn't all too fond of what I had in mind. She practically begged me not to kill you. It was pathetic."
A red, hot fury boiled in Armin's blood at the way he completely dismissed Mikasa as a human being with feelings. He found Mikasa place a trembling hand over her mouth as tears curved around her porcelain features.
"Eren, that's enough," he spat at him.
He shrugged off the tone and went on: "But she got me thinking. I figured death would be too easy for you—you'd be escaping from what you did. So, as an alternative, I decided to kill off everyone else to make your pathetic little life miserable."
He turned and jerked his chin behind him. "It was a long shot, but I tried getting rid of Annie first with some homemade popcorn sprinkled with arsenic."
Annie froze in her spot on the threshold, eyes wide, lips tight. She apparently wasn't even aware that he knew she was there. The fire in Armin's chest rose and fell, terrified for Annie's life and discovering the true cause of Sasha's death yet livid at Eren for being so heartless and sadistic.
Eren turned back and sighed. "But I guess it's better if I save the best for last, right? I mean, how long have you guys been at it? Four years? Man, that's gonna hurt like a bitch."
"You said that you had to pluck out the bad seeds," Annie muttered. Her level tone was envious in this sort of situation, but there was no doubt that she too was scared out of her mind. "What makes you think that those doctors and your father were bad people?"
Eren's jaw twitched and his voice rose in his response: "Annie, I swear to God, if you open your mouth again, I will snap your spine in half."
"Shut the fuck up, Eren!" Armin fired. "You're sick, sick and cruel. You deserve to rot in a dark little cell for the rest of your sorry life!"
Mikasa started crying softly as Eren shouted back, "I thought you wanted answers, Armin. Don't you want to know how useless my father was at saving my mother's life? How he just stood by and watched her wither away? He was a doctor—he should've known what was wrong with her and saved her. But he was stupid and pitiful and-and he just fucking watched her die! She was in pain and did absolutely fucking nothing. He and all those doctors deserved what was coming to them. They let people die while having the knowledge of medicine and the workings of the human body under their belts. I'm saving others by getting rid of the useless ones!"
"They're just people, Eren! People don't always have the answers to everything. There are some things that they just don't know. I'm sorry what happened to Carla—"
"No, you fucking aren't! You have no idea what it felt like—"
"I lost my own mother at the hands of a drunk driver, you selfish little prick! Carla was my second mother and you have the audacity to think I didn't lose a part of myself when she died? Get your head out of your ass and wake up! The world doesn't bow down to your problems and you're an imprudent child for thinking otherwise."
"Please, Eren, Armin." Mikasa tugged at Eren's arm, at his bloody arm, and looked at the space between them, as wide and deep as outer space. "Please, can't we go back to what we once were? Just let it all fall behind us and go back to living like how we used to?"
She plastered on a tiny smile and peered at her boys, nodding like it could actually work. "Remember when we paired up for a science experiment in school? We made a little plane out of cardboard and it flew around the classroom like a…like a little bird. And those countless sleepovers at your house, Eren. Carla always made some sort of special treat and once popped out and scared us while Armin told us ghost stories. Remember…remember…" A sob got stuck in her throat and she choked out, "Please. Please let's go back to those days."
Armin wanted to feel bad for her and comfort her in probably the most painful moment of her life right now. But she was truly blind if she believed something like that could ever happen.
He sighed and tightened his grip on her wrist again. "We're past the point of no return, Mikasa."
Eren glared back at her. "And one of those people in that memory is dead. We can't go back even if we wanted to."
Armin's gaze landed on Annie behind Eren. Her eyes drifted from Mikasa to Armin and he noticed her reach for her back pocket. She slowly pulled out her hunting knife but kept it hidden behind her back.
He pursed his lips. Even now, he didn't want to hurt Eren—he would have to turn into a bad person in order to take down another one. But, like he said, they were past the point of no return and he would be a hypocrite if he didn't go with his own claim. So, he took hold of Mikasa's hand with his left one and gave one last attempt at saving her heart.
"Mikasa, you know this is wrong. You know Eren is only using you. If he cared, he wouldn't be treating you like this, like you're something disposable. Save yourself, think for yourself for God's sake. You deserve better, Mikasa. Please, don't let one person take control of your entire existence. You are capable of wonderful things, I know, and you're limiting yourself by tolerating this madness. If you want those days back so badly, then recreate them with someone new." He coated on his own smile like fresh wallpaper. "Let me take you back home, so you can find a new happiness, a new reason to live."
More tears slid down her slender cheeks like the raindrops on a windowpane. She looked at him with such a broken expression that it hurt him to look back. Her hold on Eren loosened and slipped down to his fingers. That invisible string that tied them together was slowly unknotting itself.
She glanced back at Eren. He stared at her with a hard look, eyes focused on the plan which she was a part of. His voice was not merciful when he spoke: "You have to fight for your life, Mikasa. The world is full of people who will try to take it from you and watch you drown. You have to fight back; you're never safe. If you want to live, then you must fight for what you want because everyone will stop at nothing to make you meaningless. Fight back, Mikasa. Your strength and determination is all you have, so use it."
Armin felt all hope drain from him when he saw Mikasa shift back to Eren and knew there was nothing that could save her now or ever. And so, he grinded his teeth together, yanked Mikasa back, and shouted, "Now, Annie!"
Like lightning she struck. She whipped out her knife, stormed the two giant steps it took to reach Eren, hopped on his back, and drove the weapon into his shoulder.
Eren gasped and Mikasa screamed. Armin put all his strength into holding her back, locking his arms around her waist and crushing her against his side. He tried moving them toward the back door but that was asking too much of his physical power. Mikasa wiggled in his grasp like a worm, shrieking "Stop! No! Please!" over and over again. She pounded at his hands and it was like getting his fingers caught in a car door multiple times. It hurt obviously, but he couldn't afford to lose another soul tonight, so he held on tighter, even if it would cost him a few broken fingers.
He managed to catch Annie torturing Eren. She rotated the knife in his shoulder and Eren howled in pain. He twisted around and tried to fling her off his back, but she didn't budge. Armin saw the muscles in her thighs constrict around Eren's ribs. He coughed and gasped for air. Frankly, if she tried hard enough, she just might suffocate him (or at least break a few bones) with her legs alone.
Eren reached back and grabbed her flowing bangs and jerked them forward. She hardly made a sound and looked him dead in the eye as she retracted the knife and then shoved it into his exposed arm.
His own blood mixed in with the remains of Historia as he unleashed another painful cry. Mikasa wailed in response and then Armin saw her elbow ram itself into his nose and felt another blow at his hipbone. She grabbed one of his hands and pulled back his pinkie finger until it made a sickening snapping sound.
Armin yelped and fell against the door as Mikasa ran over to Eren. She flung herself at Annie and knocked them both into the wall opposite of Armin. Annie's clutch on her knife was like iron and it ripped out of Eren's arm as she fell to the side. Blood spattered onto the wall and floor.
Eren grunted like a raging bull, holding his blood-drenched arm as he watched Mikasa and Annie struggle beneath him. He swung his leg back and aimed for Annie's gut, but Armin's instincts pushed his feet forward, his hands wrapping around Eren's throat despite the useless pinkie finger he now had.
They fell to the floor with a crash. Armin sat on Eren's stomach and dug his thumbs into his Adam's apple, pain shooting up his own hand as he did so. Armin heard such violent noises behind him: the breaking of glass, bones smashing bone, low grunts and heavy breathing. He had to get Annie out of there. Mikasa will eat her alive if he didn't get to her time. He already wasted enough time by explaining to Marco and Jean Eren's intentions and trying to equip a weapon of his own. Would he have to kill Mikasa just to get her off of Annie?
He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice Eren fish out a switchblade from his pocket and push it into Armin's calf.
Fire erupted in his leg and his pant leg quickly filled up with blood once Eren withdrew the blade. He gasped and his grip on him loosened, providing Eren with an opportunity to attack again which he grabbed at once. He smashed a fist into the side of Armin's face and a memory blasted at the familiar feeling of playground bullies. Dumb kids driving fists and kicks into his body for being the teacher's pet and in came Eren, swinging his arms and squawking like a bird, saving his ass countless times.
Now look where they were.
Eren pushed Armin to the side and then rolled on top of him, knife in hand. Armin saw Mikasa throw a punch at Annie but she jumped out of the way just in time and Mikasa's hand was swallowed up by the drywall of the kitchen. Annie sliced at her arm with her hunting knife, now glistening with fresh blood. Mikasa yanked her fist out of the wall and brought it back to Annie in one swift movement. It collided with her nose and she stumbled in the process. Her eyes landed on Armin underneath Eren and lightning struck her eyes, creating a fire he never saw in her before.
"I'll make you bleed!" Eren hollered. "I'll make you suffer for everything you've done!"
Armin caught Eren's arm, the one that Annie slashed up, before he could thrust the switchblade into his face. He watched in absolute fear as the shiny blade slowly inched forward, Eren's bright, hungry eyes flashing in the dark. He saw his rigid jawbone, his sharp teeth, felt his blood drip onto his forehead. Here is where he would die, Armin believed, at the hands of his best friend, in his dusty old cabin in the middle of the woods, sinking in blood and fury. For a moment, he expected his life to flash across his eyes—that's what everyone experienced at the brink of death, didn't they?—but nothing showed up. He could only see the knife and Eren's enraged fire.
Eren suddenly snapped back. Annie's pale hand ripped the blade out of his grasp but it easily slipped out of her fingers and clattered to the floor on the other side of the room. He tried sitting up, but Eren was on top of him before he could get too far. He threw his weight on his shoulders and Armin twisted around to get another look at Annie.
She was on her stomach on the floor, further away from him than she was before. A large bloodstain soaked through her sweatshirt on her right shoulder and expanded rapidly. The bun on top of her head had become undone and her disheveled blonde locks hung in her face. She was panting heavily and crawling her way over to him.
Mikasa had snapped up from her place on the floor in the living room with Annie's hunting knife in her hand. Her nose was bashed in and blood caked her mouth as if she took a huge bite out of Annie's shoulder. She grabbed onto Annie's legs and Armin watched Mikasa as she swung her arm violently to the side and a river of red bloomed up from Annie's lower back.
Annie's eyes bulged and a short scream escaped from her. Her hand touched her spine and it came back soaked. She sluggishly twisted back to face Mikasa again, but it was the wrong move to make. Mikasa had grabbed one of the few beer bottles still standing on the kitchen counter, lifted it high above her head, and whacked it hard against Annie's skull. The bottle exploded; pieces sprinkled among the tiles of the kitchen floor, unfinished beer drowning them.
Annie was now laying on her back, her face turned away from him. As dark blood pooled around her hips, growing at a horrifyingly rapid speed, he saw two or three large shiny glass pieces protruding from the right side of her face. Her body did not move.
His throat ripped itself in two as Armin screamed her name.