So I've noticed that, on this website, there are two categories for Attack on Titan. One's under the English title and the other under the Japanese. I figured one has to be the manga and one has to be the anime, but who could tell the difference between the two categories? I, at the very least, haven't been able to. So I'm thinking about changing this story so it's under the Japanese title, because it seems to be the more popular one. And yeah, shoot me. I'm going with the crowd. Sometimes it helps with things like views, though.
Anyway, enjoy.
I'm hardly able to run with a full skirt and blurry vision and my sobs staggering my breaths, but I run nonetheless. And when I glance over my shoulder, Easton is following me at a leisurely pace. He doesn't even feel the need to chase after me quickly!
I don't search for anyone. Somehow I trust him that the servants are all dead, that he really did poison them all. After all, there aren't noises to be heard other than the ones I make. And then there's the occasional call of my name that arises from the murderer trailing after me. Every time my name, or nickname comes out of his mouth, another sob shatters out of me.
One way or another, I reach the front door to the house and yank it open. It only takes a glance to see that the gates are chained shut. He must've prepared it beforehand, while I was talking with Daddy, or spending time in the garden. Teeth clenched, I rush away from the front of the estate and towards the garden around back. Even as I do, I know I can't escape. I've never scaled our perimeter walls before, and there's no way I could in this dress, and the front gate is the only entry to the mansion. I could go lock myself in my room, but it's not like I have food in there. And what's to stop Easton from breaking a window to get to me? Surely that'd be nothing to him after he...
Even through my tears and the dimness of twilight, a pale yellow still catches my eye, and for a moment I rest. Gasping for breath, I glare at the miniature rosebush that nearly pricked my finger earlier today. I'd been caressing it so lovingly, admiring it so strongly. Now it's proof that people are dead because of me. It's proof of a 'love' so twisted that it's drenched in blood. It sickens me to look at it.
I stamp on the bush and ground it into the grass, whimpering even in my desperation as thorns stab up through my thin shoes. I don't stop until every petal has torn from the plant, and then I take off again because, although he's fallen out of sight behind me, Easton's voice is inching closer. My dress tears as it snags on bushes and low branches, but I just yank at the cloth and keep going. I can't let him get ahold of me. I can't stand the idea. Just an hour ago Easton was touching me so casually, and now I can't believe I let him! Why did I? I never let anyone but him touch me like that! I thought it was normal because he was my cute little brother! Cute? How could I have ever thought that murderer cute? How could I have trusted him? How could I have cared for him?
My blind running drags me through the vast garden, past my isolated room that could very well soon become a prison cell to me, whether it's me who locks me in or Easton. I keep going even when I've plunged into the depths of the garden that I've not ever seen.
My teeth rip at my lips as I force down my wails, desperate to not let Easton hear me. At least let him lose me for a while! At least give me the time to comprehend what just happened! I don't know how to look at him anymore! I feel like if Easton stepped in front of me now, I'd scream and scratch at his face and lunge at his throat! But then, wouldn't I be just like him? I don't want to hurt him! I feel like if I saw even a scratch on him I would cry, but at the same time I want to put a hole through his chest!
My breath escapes me in a silent scream when my foot slips all at once, and I go tumbling down into some sort of abyss. Despite how bottomless it appears when I'm falling, not even a second has passed before I hit new ground with a thud. For a while I just stay sprawled out and bawling like that, because my body hurts just as much as my heart. Then my name reaches my ears and my mouth snaps shut.
For a moment I don't breathe. It's only when he calls out again that I'm jolted into action. I sit up as quick as I can without breaking anything that already aches and take in where I am. It's difficult to make out under only the first stars' lights, but after my eyes adjust I find myself in a pit at least as tall as three of me, if not more. Although the area where I'm sitting is only so big, one of the sides of the pit seems to drop off to a lower ledge that's completely overshadowed by the ground ceiling above it.
When the rustle of footstep reaches my ears, I make up my mind. I hastily pull myself to the drop and set to work at lowering myself to the lower ledge. As I do, I notice that there's another, similar drop that's a little farther of a drop that leads to yet another area even farther underground. I hesitate, but only slightly, before descending again to that area. Once again, there's an option to go lower, but this time two sides are open to descend from. Constantly fearing that Easton will spot me if I stay too close to the surface, in what little light radiates from the moonless night sky, I continuously delve farther into the earth until I've lost all light from above. Instead, a faint glow has begun emanating from...below?
I tread slower than before, my hands, arms and clothes all scraped up from my journey through the garden and down the pit. At least, though, by the time I've found the source of the light, the tears have stopped coming.
The light source is a city. An entire city erected in a hollow underground cavern. Honestly, I've heard rumors about the underground before, but I've always kind of thought it was merely a story. I mean, I've never met anyone who's been there, and I've never seen a way down to it. What I do know about it, though, is that it's poor. It's a slum.
There's that problem, and there's also the issue that I'm currently at least a healthy tree's length and a half above where the city actually is. And I'm not seeing any ledges on the way down.
I gulp. Do I try to make my way down there? What's waiting for me is far from good, if the town's anything like what I've heard. And if I slip up and fall, I could die, couldn't I? But I could also make it. And what if I could find a different way back to the surface? I could disappear from brother's life and go live with some relatives. And if I don't go lower, my only choice is to go back, and that means running into Easton. Whatever decision I make, I have to do it on my own.
For the first time in my life, I have no one to help me.
Sucking in a deep breath, I tentatively begin to lower myself over the side of the drop, praying to any god or powerful being that where I place my hands and feet are stable crevices. Apparently, even the supernatural has abandoned me, though.
It happens when I'm just barely past halfway down. I've lifted my left foot to search for a place to secure it lower, when the rock under my right foot crumbles away. My fingers slip under the abruptly added weight and I fall with a shriek.
Water rushes into my lungs when I land with a splash, and I immediately begin to choke. Somehow, someway, I manage to drag myself out only to collapse on the shore. When I've successfully vomited out all the water and all the contents of my stomach, I shakily raise myself to glance at the body of water I'd fallen into.
The pond glistens waveringly in the dim light of the city that lies just a little ways off. I grimace when I see the little fish slipping around under its surface, disgusted to think that I was just in there with them, but the water itself is surprisingly clear for such a dingy place.
Hands quaking, I lower them into the water and begin to gradually work the dirt and vomit off of them. The cuts sting, but I dare not suck on them considering what they've been covered in. When I'm done with my hands, I move onto my feet, plucking out the stuck in thorns as fast as the pain allows for. Although my shoes are washed of dirt (not so much the blood) fairly easily, I have no choice but to give up on my dress after brushing off as much dirt as I can. Even I know that these sort of stains don't come out without soap. My hair is a different story. I soak it and rub at it until, as far as I can tell, it's spotless. Finally, I scrub at my face until it hurts. When I finish I sit back, panting. I'm kind of thirsty, but there's no way I'll drink what I just washed myself in. And besides, there are fish in the water. I would never put something so gross in me.
My eyes drift towards the city as I catch my breath. I don't like the idea of going there. Not if there are street urchins and thugs. Not if sick people line the streets. Maybe I should just edge my way around it? I don't see anything sticking up to the ceiling in the middle of the city, so if there's a way up, it has to be on the perimeter. That's the only thing I'd going into this sort of town for, anyway. To find a way out.
As I climb to my feet that have ceased to bleed for the time being, I shiver. It's been warm above ground for the past few months, but down here it's a few more than a couple degrees below comfortable.
"I've never seen you here before."
I start, my heart thrusting against my chest in attempt to escape. I've whirled before I'm even able to think to turn, only breathing again when I see the black hair of the person who spoke. It's not Easton.
On the contrary, he's quite a bit shorter than Easton, though I wouldn't call him a midget or anything. His hair's cut shorter, too, though again I can't say it's exactly close-cut. It dangles in his no nonsense eyes, parted near the center. His clothes aren't anything spectacular, either, but he looks incredibly tidy to be living in this place. When I don't say anything, he kneels down at the edge of the pond and begins scooping the water out with a bucket.
"Ah!" I've spoken before I realize the sound has come out of my mouth, but when he glances up at me, I shrink back again.
"If you have something to say, then say it."
"Y-you shouldn't take water from there," I stutter, wincing when one of the fish splashes. "I just….washed myself in it. It's dirty." He clicks his tongue, but continues to draw water regardless. Seeing this, I hurry to explain, "Really, I...there was blood, and dirt, and….I threw up, too."
Why am I admitting I vomited to a stranger?
Still, this gets him to sit back and scowl at the water. "Disgusting."
The way he says it, like I'm the disgusting thing, sends heat flushing to my face. "Here I was being nice enough to tell you before you used it, and you use that tone of voice! A thank you would be nice!"
"You seem to have some kind of misunderstanding. I'll still drink it." I gawk as he explains, "The water here is always filthy. What water down here isn't? I'd much rather not know precisely what sort of filth has been in the water I'm drinking, and you want me to appreciate what you told me?"
"How can you still drink it?" I spout, as confused as I am embarrassed and furious.
"What other way is there than boiling it?"
"What's boiling have to do with anything?"
He stands, full bucket in hand, and appraises me up and down. I stiffen as he does so, cupping my palms around my elbows both cold and indignant. When he speaks again, his words catch me off guard.
"You said you cleaned yourself here?"
"Y-yes? I had to. I was covered from head to toe in grime, and it was gross."
Another analyzing look. I'm used to being looked at, but not like this. Usually men's eyes are filled to the brim with wanton lust, but his simply assess me like an object.
"How often do you clean?"
I blink. "...Never, really. People have always done it for me."
"First time, huh?" he mumbles. Louder, he tells me, "You cleaned well, for your first time. Good for you. Looks like you've got a talent for something."
"Excuse me?"
"It's unusual to meet someone else who appreciates cleanliness down here. Then again, you look like you're from anywhere but here."
"That's…because I'm not from here." I point up. "I fell from above ground."
Take a guess as to who she just met. Yeah, I know, I wasn't trying to make it a mystery. If you don't know who it is...my apologies. I thought I was pretty clear even without using his name. But yeah. The dynamics between the two of them should be fun. Edaline, though, is character I'm surprisingly ecstatic about. I didn't think much about her past her obvious brattiness ever since I conceived the idea of her, but now I think she'll turn into a really fascinating girl. You'll have to read and tell me if I succeed in conveying that. I look forward to seeing if I do well.
Till then, Kisses from SnowyNeko :3 MEOW!
