I have several ideas to publish but I didn't receive any review about what I wrote in the last chapters.
I really would like to know your opinion.
Are you enjoying it? I'm pleasing the fans?
If I receive reviews I will update more often.
I have the impression that nobody likes this story =(
Sorry...
English isn't my first language.
Shingeki no kyojin isn't mine.
My gallery on deviant is blood-pleasures
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CHAPTER 6
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The mansion had animals carved on the walls, winged monsters and tapestries resembling the revolution era. Those were expensive items to be displayed in a brothel, even appearing to be a luxury brothel.
As Rivaille advancing, the wood creaked in some parts.
The place was a strong odor of incense. Lightweight curtains fluttered between the walls while shadows of slender bodies mingled with the decor.
Despite being a great and decorated place on the outside, inside needed major repairs, mainly in the walls, not all tapestries disguises the marks of time.
The rooms were separated by rusted railings, a great contrast with the exotic lavished on entry.
All slaves were mens, none of them was dressed like the others.
One wore a version of the military uniform with ripped chest. He crept under the bars while showcasing the breastplate.
All put their hands out to get the attention of prospective customers.
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Some moaned lustfully looking for any sign to indicate that he could be picked for that night.
Rivaille was the one who was in the mansion at the time.
His uniform caught the attention for being a military.
Many insignias on his chest indicating patents.
He searched for a familiar face, a boy with emerald eyes and slim body without success.
His search was thorough. None of them caught his attention.
He lost control for a commoner covered in dirt and mud in a cemetery.
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"Please, sir. If I don't get any customer today they will kill me" A man with a weak voice moaned from inside one of the cells "I don't want to die ... I can still be useful just for today, master, help me!"
"Who are you?" He asked, stopping suddenly in front of the cell where the prisoner dared to speak to him without permission "A trash from the gutter as you can not give me anything useful."
The man bowed his head, the law does not allow contact with nobles.
"Please..." Another groan was heard from another cell "We all will die."
"At least save the prisoner with green eyes. It seems he is a noble like you." The man next to Rivaille said against the bars "He will take revenge for all."
"Where is he?" His voice was more desperate than normal "I don't have all day, worm."
his boots kicked the bars that rocked through the impact.
"Behind the frame of the wall has a passage that opens a door. I heard something about take off the eyes. I think he will die, as we, sir."
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The slave was right, there was a door leading to the basement.
If he was lying Rivaille will to put a bullet in each head of those who were there without any remorse.
His major goal was to rescue Eren as soon as possible. If he was hurt, even a little scratch, everyone would pay with their lives.
Eren was his property and nobody would touch his body without suffering severe consequences.
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The place was a dimly lit shed. Unlike the slaves of the brothel there gave off a putrid smell of death.
Men groaned in pain lying on stretchers dirty with blood stains.
One of the prisoners had his chest opened until a Plague Doctor pulled the living heart while he languished to death.
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All had their faces covered by masks, surgical instruments were charged along with the rest of the bodies.
A dead body without legs emanating a putrid smell from a wound unhealed.
Blood dripped on the floor while rats ran along the dead.
The focus was on lighting lanterns above the head of the dying. Most of them was breathing hard as they watched his comrades languishing one after another all the time.
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Some bodies were stacked next to a gurney, probably were failed experiments. Flies lay their eggs and many animals crept through all that rot.
Rivaille killed one of the doctors by cutting his throat.
The mask is useful for camouflage. His opponent was too easy to shoot down.
He kept all the insignias within the coat, disguising himself along others doctors.
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In the left corner he heard a groan of pain followed by the sound of handcuffs moving.
A man holding an object that looked like a large pair of scissors and approached to a body that moved with difficulty.
That was the ward of torture, the stretcher with the blanket discarded from a corpse was there waiting for the prisoner.
That's when he caught a glimpse of his body.
Young, slender, naked, shackled and bruised ... It's him, Eren. Your Eren.
