Cauchemar = Nightmare

Mid-October, 843

Levi, Mama's coming.

Kuchel tossed the door open, so forcefully that an observer would have been scared she had thrown it off the hinges. She didn't care if she broke it or not. None of that trivial, petty shit mattered right now.

Her first move was to go into the storage space, which was enterable through a hatch in the floor that was covered by a rug in the kitchen. Punting it away without a second thought, the noirette grabbed the inlaid handle, swinging the port open to march down the stairs. It was pitch black, and she couldn't see anything in the abyss, but knew just what she was looking for. Kuchel always knew where everything was in the house, and this was no exception.

It took her a brief moment, stumbling around in the nothingness of the cellar, but when her fingertips brushed against the cool metal surface, Kuchel knew she'd discovered what she was hunting for.

She lugged the ODM gear out of the crawlspace, kicking the door shut before setting it on the table. Dusting her hands off, she huffed and looked around, her mind racing as she thought of a plan. A plan to get her out of this dump, this hellhole that she had been trapped in for nearly her entire life. It was the only way to get her son back, and to give those Survey Corps bastards a taste of her Ackerman wrath for ever taking her son away from her. The mere thought of shackles on her angel made her blood simmer, needing to be cooled down with a deep breath.

If the Survey Corps wanted an enemy, they'd made one of her.

Kuchel went into Levi and Furlan's shared room, opening his dresser and taking out the darkest clothes that she could find. A black undershirt, a navy-blue pair of slacks, and a spare cloak that she knew had kept for when his current one got worn down, bearing a deep brown colour that she knew would aid her.

Brown is a good colour to blend in with the walls of the cavern… black blends with my hair… deep blue... well, it's the darkest one he's got in here that will fit me.

Since no one was around, Kuchel didn't feign modesty, stripping down to her undergarments before slipping Levi's shirt and pants over her pale torso and lower body. Once she was satisfied, the raven-haired woman checked in a different drawer, clicking her tongue when there was a set of ODM gear straps, almost begging for her to take them.

Her nimble seamstress fingers made quick work of the buckles and straps, and before long, she was tossing on shoes and tying her cascading black locks into a tight bun that rested at the base of her neck. The woman made sure every strap fit in just the right way, exactly how Levi had shown her, before fastening the gear to her thighs and setting the handles in the holsters below her armpits.

After tossing together a satchel with money and a change of clothes in it, Kuchel went to a drawer and dug out a map of the Underground City that Levi kept to help plot out the delivery runs for his job. It sent a pang through her chest, seeing his handwriting indented into the paper, his penmanship marking locations with swooping arrows. His hand weighed so heavy on the quill when he wrote that some of the sharper lines showed through on the backside, and she couldn't help but run her fingers over the spot for a moment, missing her son already.

Where is he now? Is he safe? Did they hurt him when they took him away in those shackles? Did the cuffs scuff his wrists? His skin is so soft and sensitive, if they did so much as scrape him I will fucking-

Deep breaths. She needed to remember to take deep breaths. If she got too emotional, then she would fail this mission before she had even begun.

Her dull blue eyes scanned the yellowed paper, her finger tracing over where their home was marked near the bottom. "I need to get to the North Side… I can go this way…" She spoke to herself quietly, as though she were being listened to, and needed to hide her words away from prying ears.

Their humble abode was in the southern section of the Underground City, and her eyes trailed to the northernmost point of the map, at a drawn cluster of housing labelled "The Rookery." The name made her grimace as she recollected some past memories of the most impoverished section of the Underground, but she continued to plan the best route from there to the location before folding the parchment up and shoving it into her satchel. After making sure she had all that she needed, Kuchel exited the home, locking the door behind her. As she covered herself with Levi's long, soily-brown cloak, a curious thought crossed her mind.

This will probably be the last time you're here ever again.

She didn't understand that thought. It baffled her as she made her way down the steps and headed northbound, the heels of her mid-calf boots digging into the powdery dirt of the alley. So late in the night, the Underground City was much more silent, with less foot traffic or eyes to spy on her every move. After walking for some time, Kuchel swerved through some alleys in a zig-zagging pattern, trying to move closer to the cavern wall. However, getting nearer to the edges of town also meant that her nose detected the abhorrent stench of the sewers, and it was so putrid that it made her eyes water. It quickened her pace, but it would still take some time to get where she needed to go.

As the dark-haired woman slinked through the shadows, her mind bounced from subject to subject, but eventually landed back on the topic at the forefront of her mind.

I need to find the Ackerman family ring.

It was a signet ring that she remembered from her childhood, a red stone inlaid in a golden band. It boasted an "A" meticulously that had been carved into it, with ivy branches winding around the letter as though they were protecting the family name from devilish weeds. Kuchel recalled seeing one of her parents wearing it, but not knowing the story behind it, or even which parent wore it, for that matter. What did matter was her retrieving the item in the first place.

It was hard to believe that she had forgotten about it until now– back in harder days, it would have been nice to sell for some extra Sinas. However, perhaps it was fate that let the memory stray from her mind, because now she knew that it was her key to escaping this god-forsaken place, if there were any higher-beings at all in this world.

She had seen it before, her mother and father passing it around from time to time, signing adult documents that she was far too young to understand. Even when Kuchel was a teenager, they never let her look at the papers. The ring passed over her vision, and she thought nothing of it until that moment. She knew for a fact that within the Military Police base underground, there would be an office for issuing citizenship papers. With the notary stamp in the office, and the signet ring, it would be a scot-free ticket out of the Underground without so much as a second glance from those who guarded the stairwells. Plus, it was impossible to know just how long she would be stuck above ground, so it was best to have believable paperwork in order.

Between the southern and northern sections of the Underground, there was a large gap of unoccupied space, mostly due to the mines that ran beneath it. Building homes on top of this section would surely have led to catastrophe someday, so nothing had ever been constructed atop the vast area besides a simple road to and from the sections.

That was what she was staring at now, the expansiveness of the grand cavern stretching out to her sides and above her, the glowing lights of the city behind her as she stared into what seemed to be an endless void. Her eyes couldn't even make out an outline of any building on the other side, as no one lived in the Rookery anymore. There had been a mine collapse a few years after Levi was born, and it scared nearly everyone out and across the grand expanse. Not a single candle was lit on that side, and she had thought ahead, making sure her satchel had some matches and candlesticks for when she went on her quest.

Kuchel knew that this tract of land would need to be manoeuvred across, and though she had been thoroughly trained by her son to use the ODM gear, it still made anxiety flare in her chest. The raven-haired woman had watched him, Isabel, and Furlan use it to zip away from home with her methodical gaze, noting how Levi seemed to do it so effortlessly.

The memory of him suggesting she learn to use it crossed her mind as she grabbed the handles, ready to shoot one of the cables into the ceiling of the cave. At the moment, it had seemed like a ridiculous suggestion, to teach her to use military equipment.

She was glad she had listened to him.

Her fingers pressed the triggers, sending her hooks high into the air and helping her to propel forward across the empty void of solid, shakily-foundationed stone beneath her. Kuchel's heart thrummed in her throat, her mild fear of heights suddenly kicking up a handful of degrees as she flew forward. Despite barely being able to see anything, she knew the approximate distance, and when she saw the top of a run-down roof, the noirette stuck the landing with precise timing, although she stumbled a bit when part of the surface bowed under her weight.

"Fucking shit…" Kuchel muttered to herself, regaining her composure before putting the handles of the ODM gear in their respective holsters. "Already so fucking degraded after twenty years… absolute dump."

Lighting a candle with a matchstick, the woman made her way to the ground by jumping down progressively lower roofs until she found one that was low enough. Now was not the time to break her ankle, especially in such an isolated, desolate area of the Underground City that had been forgotten by time. Even the air smelled dustier, older, and denser. It was repulsive, but in a different way from the rest of the Underground. The Rookery, as well as all of the day-to-day life that had once gone on there, had been long since resigned to the annals of Humanity's history books. Something about knowing where she had grown up becoming nothing more than a derelict ghost town made a string in her heart pull tight, but now was not the time for sentimentality of any kind.

But it kept gnawing at her, clawing at her in every way. The shadows lapped at her heels, and the memories dragged their sharp, piercing nails down the skin of her back, sending a shiver up her spine as she searched for her old home. Kuchel didn't want to remember such things, but being here brought it to the forefront of her mind.

The sting of the smack on the back of her head made her wince, and the familiar, hair-raising voice whined at her. "Tch. Useless. You can't even make bread right, huh? Fucking pathetic, useless little girl."

The seven-year-old child glanced up at her mother, tears filling her darling blue eyes. Kuchel's cheeks were round like a cherub's, and anyone who saw her loved to pinch them and coo at her adorableness. Her mother, Neora, didn't seem to ever find her that cute.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Kuchel squeaked out, "M-Mommy, I'm sorry. I d-didn't mean to add too much water, I swear I didn't. Can we maybe add um… more flour to thicken it? That would save it, right?" A whimper escaped her throat when Neora scoffed at her, reaching a bony hand to yank the young girl towards her. Those eyes– those angry, disdain-filled green eyes stared down at her, and a sob caught in her windpipe as her mother raised a hand. The itty bitty, inky-haired Kuchel knew what was coming next.

"Don't ever talk back to me, Kuchel!"

She swallowed hard at the memory, the pain of the slap across her tiny face flashing through her senses. It was as though it had only happened yesterday, and it disturbed her how vividly she remembered it. Both of her parents had been rotten people, but her mother was a different breed of vicious, a new calibre of callous that she had rarely seen matched outside of their home. Her father, Tamas, had been a drunkard, and a loud, terrifying one at that, but as sad as it was, Kuchel would have rather been beaten into a bundle of broken bones than tortured by her mother how she had been.

It was always so odd. It never made sense to her, the unrestrained hatred that her mom showed towards her, as though she resented Kuchel's very existence. Even looking at the little girl seemed to invoke a reaction in the dark brunette woman of pure ire. It seemed like as soon as Kuchel wasn't dependent on her, her mother had acted as though there was no other child left to care for but Kenny. Once Ken was old enough to fully comprehend what was going on, he grew distant from Neora, so distant that it drove her into a shrill outburst if one of them even looked at her wrong.

Kuchel recalled being about four-years-old, scraping her knee outside their home and stumbling in to get help. It made her shudder, remembering how she had pawed at her mother's skirt and begged for her to help her, to kiss her boo-boos and make the pain go away. It was all she wanted– some sort of affection, a sign that she cared.

But when those haunting emerald eyes casted a glance down at her, she saw no love. Kuchel saw only animosity and ill-will. What had she done to make her mom so repulsed?

"M-Mommy, I got owwie. Kiss and make better? P-Pretty please? Hurts…" Kuchel sniffled, sky-blue orbs peering up at the older woman as she cut something up on the counter. Despite the tug on her skirt, Neora didn't move.

"Mommy? Mommy please? Hurts bad." The tiny tot insisted with a slight raise in her tone of voice, bouncing ever-slightly on her heels in frustration as her busted-up knee ached and burned.

Nothing.

That was when Kenny came into the house after her, having been playing outside with her. She'd bolted off towards home as soon as it happened, and damn, did she run fast. He heard their mother ignoring her, and being a much more brave child at the age of nine, he huffed at her, "Oi, Ma'. Ya gonna fuckin' answer Chelly, or just keep cuttin' potatoes?"

"Enough!" Kuchel's big, innocent eyes widened in shock as Neora slammed the dangerously sharp knife down on the counter, spinning on her heel and grabbing Kuchel by her pale, squishy arm. It caused her to shriek in terror and confusion as she was lifted off the floor and carried past her brother briskly, being tossed out onto the porch. "Stop fucking pestering me! If you want to be a little brat, then do it outside! You're fucking fine, just brush yourself off and go bother someone else! You know what, Kuchel, you can stay outside tonight! No dinner, no bed!"

She finally found the house, and staring at the creaky, old door was making her mind reel back to all of those horrible moments. Beneath her feet were the ruins of the steps where she'd been thrown like trash; where she had been discarded like the most unimportant, pathetic person in the world.

"Ma', what the fuck?" Kenny blurted out, shoving past her and rushing to kneel in front of the poor, quivering girl. Kuchel was crumpled on the stoop, fearfully cradling her arm where Neora had snatched her up. At the time, she didn't understand the look on her brother's face, but now she knew that it was pure anger. He was upset that their mother had decided to be so heartless and hurt her own baby. "Yer crazy, Ma'!"

"Kenny, I never said you had to stay outside! Get in this house, right now."

"Fuck you. Come on, Chelly. Hey, hey, s'okay. Let's go to the park. How does that sound, huh? Swings, the slide, the works. We can even play that game ya like with the rocks."

Their mother shouted after them as Kenny piggy-backed Kuchel away from the house, walking wherever he thought to carry her– anywhere was better than home. Home was where she was unloved. Home was where she got hurt for wanting someone to care about her.

Her chubby cheek was pressed against Kenny's back for a long time, staining his shirt with salthy, depressed tears. She was so small, and there was no way she could have fully comprehended what was going on, or why. All she knew was that there was her big brother, kneeling before her after he'd set her down on a bench, doing his best to clean up her bloody scrape on her petite knee.

"O-Oh no, Kenny." Kuchel's eyes began to well with more tears. "Blood on dress. Mama gonna yell at me again."

"Oi, don't worry 'bout 'er. Yer big bro's here for you, alright? I won't let anythin' happen to ya, Chelly. Now, how about we go play on those swings, huh? I'll swing ya extra high, promise."

The sounds of childlike, cheerful laughter rang through the mostly vacant, run-down park. Not many kids lived in the Rookery, so when they wanted to play, Kuchel and Kenny mostly played only with one another.

"Higher, Kenny! Higher!" She squealed, a bright smile plastered across her face as she felt Ken's hands on her back, sending her further up into the air on the janky swing. It hadn't given out yet, so she was going to take her chances in order to feel like she was flying, like she could be a bird and go far away from this awful place.

"Yer goin' as high as ya can go, squirt!" He chuckled, stepping to the side and watching her kick her feet out to try to keep the momentum. As she swung downward, her hair flew into the air and framed her vision as she stared at the cavern ceiling. At this point in her life, she had never seen the Sun. Kuchel wished she could run away and go live up there to see it, along with the famed Moon and stars.

"Kenny?" She asked, sitting with him about half an hour later on a bench to take a break. Kenny had bought them some bread after going around the corner to "borrow some money from a friend," but now she realised after all this time that he had probably mugged someone just to buy her a meager dinner.

"Ya, Chel?" He responded, teeth grinding on the hard bread crust as he glanced over at his younger sister. Kenny was five years her senior, and him being so freakishly tall for his age made her seem even smaller by comparison.

"Can we run away, maybe? And go up there? I don't wanna live with Mama and Papa anymore. I wanna see the sky, and the birds and trees and everything!" Her arms reached out as far as they could go, holding her bread still in a fist as she demonstrated just how much of everything she wanted to see. There was no limit. Kuchel wanted to see it all.

"Who knows, maybe someday ya will."

"But I wanna go now, Ken-Ken."

The nickname made him laugh, and he reached over to tousle some of her hair, much to her chagrin. "Like I said, maybe someday ya will. We can't go right now, we're just kids. Ya can't just sneak outta here. But who knows what the future holds?"

She remembered how that night, they slept on that bench, knowing they wouldn't be welcome at home until the following morning. Kenny laid on his back, on the uncomfortable wooden surface, letting her rest her cheek on his chest and bundle up in his jacket to stay warm and feel safe. With his hand on her back, Kuchel knew her big brother was watching over her, and that she could rest easy.

He was the only one in the Walls for years that cared about her, that loved her– and oh how wonderful it felt to be loved.

"And then you left me down in this dump." She continued her thoughts out loud, grabbing the handle to the door. "But I guess you did save my ass, and took care of my son. Kenny, you bastard." Tears pricked at the corners of her periwinkle-dabbled eyes, but they were quickly blinked away when she tried to turn the handle, finding it to be locked.

What a pain in the ass.

Knowing no one was around to care, Kuchel took a step back, stretching her leg before gearing up and kicking the door straight off the hinge in one go. She may have been middle-aged, but that didn't mean she didn't have impressive force behind a kick. After all, Crystal's ribs turned out to have been broken by her blows, and Kuchel hadn't even remembered using every ounce of force she could muster.

Once she stepped into the house, she couldn't help but cough and sputter at the dust that kicked up. From the light of the candle, she could see that her childhood home had remained untouched for years. The floor was caked in a thick layer of grime, and as she held the candle higher, Kuchel could see how the plaster on some walls had crumbled off in chunks and heaped on the floor. Before stepping any further, she retrieved a knife from her pocket and held it at her side, just in case there was a squatter living there, in the silence of the decrepit, long-abandoned home. So many moments of her life in this bygone place, and no pleasant ones could come to mind as she walked past the table in the kitchen, raising her candle to examine what had been left behind. A plate with crumbs that had turned ashy and grey, an unfinished goblet of wine that had long since dried out, moulded, and dried again until it had become nothing more than a powder– for a moment, she wondered whose lips were the last to graze the brim of that cup, whose teeth had last scraped against the tines of the fork. She'd never know. She didn't care.

It was strange, seeing the little hovel for the first time in nearly twenty-five years. Kuchel didn't remember it being so damn small, so cramped and claustrophobic– how had she lived here for almost seventeen years, in such close quarters with two dastardly parents and her crazy brother?

Continuing on past the kitchen, she made her way down the short hall, with the door to her parents' room on her left, and the door to hers and Kenny's room on the right. In the Rookery, houses rarely had more than a kitchen and a bedroom that families tended to share, but her father had managed to snag this one at a cheap price. Before Kuchel was born, it had been solely Kenny's room, but afterwards, he was forced to share.

Pushing the door to her old room open, she sighed and took a step into the narrow space, seeing that the bunk beds were still against the wall, peeled plaster having cascaded down and onto the mattresses that had stiffened with the years that had gone by. It seemed like only yesterday she had been sleeping on that top bunk with her brother, asking him if he was still awake in the dead of night. Now, those memories were so far in the past that she struggled to remember the sounds of his voice coming from the bunk beneath hers. Kenny had insisted on taking the bottom bunk, so that he could "go take a piss more easily," but later in her life, Kuchel realised that he was doing it to protect her from their father, in case he came into the room in an intoxicated stupor.

"Not much to see in here anymore, huh…?" Her voice rang through the room a surprising amount, most likely due to being practically barren of anything else besides a dresser and the bed. It was sad, but it was what her life had been like.

Kuchel, focus. You're here to get the ring, not reminisce on the bullshit of the past.

Ignoring all else, the woman exited the room and subsequently swung open the one opposite to her. At first, all she saw was dust clouding her vision as it rained from the rickety roof, but when the candle gripped in her nimble fingers illuminated the sight in front of her, her legs weakened under her weight.

Ba-dum.

Her knees hit the floor, her ODM gear clinking against the wood.

Ba-dum.

A ringing sound overwhelmed her ears.

Ba-dum.

The scene made her wish she'd never opened that door.

Bones. There, before her eyes in what was once her parents' bed, rested fucking bleach-white bones. It didn't take more than a split second for Kuchel to realise who they belonged to.

"W-What the fuck?" She whimpered, gripping the candle as though it were her lifeline in this hellish nightmare, her nails digging into the wax and leaving crescent indents. Her feet were unsteady, her joints shaking from the shock as she stumbled closer to the bed. It made hot, searing bile rise in her throat.

I thought Kenny said he'd taken care of their bodies? It's been so long, they've been here for almost twenty-five years.

Another memory overcame her senses as she held the light near the larger of the two skeletons, her blue eyes staring into the endless void that hid in the empty eye sockets that were matted with cobwebs. It made her throat dry, and Kuchel could still hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

The room was humid, dank with the smell of disease and herbs that had failed to cure their ailments. Kuchel was waiting on Kenny, who was getting more water from the local well to wet some rags for their foreheads, to try to break the fever.

However, the teen girl realised that their father's chest had ceased rising and falling. It had already been weak, but it still made a lump form in Kuchel's throat as she realised he had breathed his last. This sickness had not pierced the flesh of either sibling, and neither entirely knew why. Maybe it was their age, maybe it was luck. Regardless, the noirette now had to focus on trying to keep their mother stable, though even touching the older woman with the barrier of a damp cloth between them made Kuchel nervous. Leaning closer with her brow furrowed, Kuchel dabbed at the sweat on Neora's temple.

The feeling of resounding anxiety was indescribable when her dying mother suddenly grabbed her by the chin, pulling her in close to sneer at her with her last few gulps of air. The stench of death on her words was overwhelming as Kuchel drew in a shaky breath.

"You are such a banal, unlovable girl. Don't you dare bring a child into this world. We don't need any more people like you."

Kenny had come home shortly after their mother took her final breath, and ushered Kuchel out of the disease-ridden home. He was a bit of a hoodlum, and had some money in his pockets to get them a room in a tavern for a few nights. However, when Kenny told her that he was going back to the house to take care of the bodies, he never returned back to the tavern.

It was so painful, feeling like you had been forgotten by the only person that loved you. Especially after your parents died together in front of your very eyes.

Focus. Find the ring.

At first, the obsidian-haired woman hesitated as her hand reached to meet her skeletonised father's. Her fingertips ghosted over the bone, barely a centimetre between her and the dry, unsettlingly blanched segments. Taking a deep breath, Kuchel moved her hand forward and grasped the ulna and radius, lifting with a grimace on her face to look at the digits as they plopped back down to the bed.

Nothing.

She huffed and blinked back her disgusted tears, checking the other hand. Still nothing. No golden signet ring with a red stone.

But it must have been Dad's ring, right? My last name is Ackerman, so is Kenny's, so if we took his last name, then he's the Ackerman.

Unless…?

Kuchel bit her lip, making her away around the bed. The smell of slowly-deteriorating bones was not pungent, nor scentless, but it was enough to make her queasy, knowing that part of the dust in the room most likely contained particles of her parents' bones. Though she didn't love her parents, it was still unsettling.

When she took hold of Neora's skeletonised hand, Kuchel's breath hitched as she remembered the last thing that hand ever did. How the pressure of her dying mother's fingertips digging into her jaw burned and ached as she was forced to gaze into the abyss of heinous green. Now it was useless, powerless, and falling apart in Kuchel's grasp. That was when she saw it, a metallic glint as she twisted the arm and saw the familiar signet ring upon her mother's thumb that had long been disconnected from every other part of the hand, loosely twisting around the knucklebone that no longer had any flesh upon it to keep it still.

Lips contorting further into a wry expression, Kuchel bit her tongue and ripped it off the finger. "You deserved this, rotting in this fucking bed in the pits of the Underground City. No one remembers you, and when Kenny and I die, no one else will, either." Glowering, the woman tossed the remnants of the hand back onto the bed, watching as some of the joints fell further apart. She didn't know what had been holding them together a bit, but it didn't matter to her. Maybe even the insects of the Underground didn't want to consume all of their flesh and had left some ligaments behind.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she held the candlelight up to the remains of her mother, scoffing bitterly. "My son will never know you existed. He is perfect, and I have been a better parent to him alone than either of you were towards Kenny and me. You'll rest down here for eternity, you fucking bastards!"

With her sudden outburst, Kuchel accidentally released the band from her grasp, listening and internally groaning as she heard it clink against the dense wooden floor and roll somewhere by her feet. Huffing at her clumsiness, she casted another glance at the corpses before getting down on her knees, the dark pants from her son's drawer dirtying more with every second. Levi was going to insist they be washed. Her blue eyes were dulled with discontentment as she tried to pat around on the floor, almost blindly since the light she had was barely enough to see much. Her pale fingers scouted beneath the nightstand, and though she clicked her tongue when she felt the family ring in her grasp, her knuckle brushed against something else. The sound of her skin skimming against the firm item was deafening in such a quiet room, even more so than when the ring clattered to the ground moments before.

Slipping the piece of heirloom jewelry onto her thumb to prevent herself from losing it, she raked her fingers against the crusty floor again until her fingertips rubbed against the surface of the mysterious object. Once Kuchel grabbed hold of the item and pulled it out, she realised that beneath the nightstand on her mother's side, there had been a journal, with an intricately-bound spine and a string looped around a metal button to keep the cover closed.

"What in the Walls…" Kuchel whispered, realising now that her breath was ever-so-slightly visible. In such a dark part of the Underground, the temperatures were sure to be freezing– she just hadn't noticed until now.

Leaning back against the wall, she unfastened the tie and opened it with one hand, the luminance of the candle flickering in her silver eyes as it highlighted the pages. Her gaze first focused on the inner cover, and realised after a few seconds of thinking that she was looking at a family tree of sorts, though the entries were spotty.

ACKERMAN FAMILY RECORDS

Leon Ackerman: January 22nd, 748.

Birthplace: Unknown, likely within Wall Rose.

Neora Ackerman: June 8th, 766.

Birthplace: Wall Rose.

Tamas Ackerman: October 27th, 763.

Birthplace: Wall Maria.

NOTE: Adopted Ackerman name after marrying Neora in 795.

Kenny Ackerman: February 4th, 796.

Birthplace: Hospital of the Underground City, Underground City.

None of the entries seemed too out of the ordinary, though Kuchel noted a few things that seemed curious to her, such as how her brother had been the first one born in the Underground, how her grandfather, Leon, had no certain birth place, and how her father had adopted the Ackerman name from marrying her mother.

Knowing how she was, she probably refused to change her name or something.

However, the entry for her own name made her stare at the parchment for quite some time, wondering if she was reading it incorrectly. Kuchel even rubbed her eyes, but the words stayed the same.

Kuchel Ackerman: May 20th, 801.

Birthplace: Saint Rose Hospital, Wall Rose.

Her mind was buzzing with so many questions. Was this a misprint? Did her mother misremember where she was born? Why would Kenny have been born Underground, but not her?

There was a thought that was burning inside her, though– one that started forcing its way towards the front of her mind.

If I was born above ground, then I'm a citizen by law, right?

The dark-haired woman needed answers, flipping the page and blinking away befuddled tears as she began to read her mother's scratchy handwriting. Damn, even her penmanship was icy and apathetic.

-June 3rd, 801-

I'm on my way home now from visiting my father, but I am dismayed that I am bringing a child home with me. I was pregnant when I parted from the Underground City to pay my father a visit, but I went into labour early for unknown reasons. I am writing this from inside the carriage back to Mitras, with the basket on the seat across from me. The thing is pitiful. It's a girl, of course, the thing I was praying against. Unfortunately, I can't just get rid of her, so I'll be stuck for the rest of my life with a daughter that causes me nothing but grief when she's older, like getting pregnant in her teens and mooching off her father and I for years. Tamas once wished for a daughter, but I reminded him of having to marry her off, and he shut his mouth. Despite my prayers, it was as though the mere mention of a female summoned this little thing. Black hair, blue eyes, born in the morning after worse labour than when I had Kenneth five years ago. Her name is Kuchel, because they forced me to pick something to call her. If it were up to me, I would have given her up for adoption in a second, but since she's an Ackerman, my father told me I had to keep her in the family.

This stupid name, what is it good for? It is the entire reason that Tamas and I are the first of the clan to be run Underground. The only reason Dad hasn't been driven down there too is because of his age; the government believes he is no threat. Non-threat, my ass. He made me take this runt with me, and that's worse than a death sentence. Since citizenship above ground is a birthright by law, I was given a card with her name, birthdate, and birthplace printed on it, but was told to get it notarised before I went back to the Underground. I could have just left her with Dad up here due to this lucky piece of paper, but if I'm going to suffer as an Ackerman, so will she. Life isn't easy, and I'll make sure this miserable, pink bundle learns that well. Giving her up to my father would have made her life far too nice.

The next entry wasn't until some time later, but was quite brief compared to the previous one.

-August 16th, 804-

I'm terrified of that girl. After today, I can't bear to even refer to her as my daughter anymore. She's nothing to me. I wish I had had the guts to give her up when I had the chance.

So many emotions were cooking in her belly, an acidic taste at the back of her throat and her eyes bleary with heartbroken tears. Kuchel had always known that her mother despised her, but she didn't know just how much she truly loathed her. To be so cruel as to deprive her of a life above ground for the sole sake of making her suffer with the rest of them was heartless, it was soul-crushing, it was cold-blooded.

And she hated her for it.

A sob ripped through her throat, and she got to her feet, dropping the journal and thrusting her foot forward and into the mattress, making some of the bones bounce and roll onto the floor. Her heart pounded in her chest as she saw Neora's dusty, crevice-laden skull travel across the ground, the jaw bone separating from the head and lying next to it. Kuchel's thoughts were so loud in her fury that she couldn't even hear herself screech into the dead silence of the Rookery.

Down came her foot, the heel of her boot cracking the cranium that had once housed the sick, twisted mind of the woman that birthed her.

"I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU!" Kuchel screamed, stomping down again and breaking it into more jagged pieces that scattered across the floor.

It felt like an eon had passed before she couldn't muster any more energy to continue. If she could, the raven-haired woman would have ground the bone into a refined powder, with her foot as the pestle and the floor as the mortar.

Chest heaving, she dusted her knees off and growled in a low tone, the edges of her words garbled from the pain in her throat, "I vowed to never be as cruel as you, and I'm not. I'm nothing like you. I never will be."

With the ring on her thumb and her candle in her hand, she proceeded to leave the room, some tendrils of black hair brushing against her cheeks after having come loose from her bun. However, Kuchel's eyes spotted a piece of paper on the floorboards, next to the journal that had fallen open-faced to the ground when she'd flown into a rage filled with violent anger.

Squatting down, she quickly picked up both objects, taking a moment to examine the paper, which was a card about the size of her palm. After taking a long look at it, it dawned on her that this paper was her citizenship card. It had her name listed in all capital letters, along her birthdate and birthplace. It even had a stamp from the hospital, and only needed two more things: a stamp from a signet ring, and a notary seal.

Kuchel had the key to the former wrapped around her finger, and knew just where to get the latter.

Without another glance back, she exited the home and didn't bother to shut the door behind her. No one would ever set foot in that wretched place ever again, and she sure didn't plan on returning for any reason. What was done was done, and she had a son to find.

The Underground was already the most isolated place within humanity's domain, but no one knew how lonely one woman was, alone in the dark and trying to desperately get back to the son that was her only reason left to live in this cruel world.

She was nervous. She began walking faster to try to get out of this God-forsaken place, cold sweat beading on her brow and a chill racing down her neck. Though no one was there, she felt like around every corner, danger was lurking in the dark, waiting to lunge at her and drag her down into hell. Kuchel needed her son, her sunshine, to light her way in this unforgiving pit of sorrow.

Holding the candle at shoulder-height, Kuchel blinked back tears that involuntarily pricked at her beautiful eyes from the fright within her. She needed to keep pushing forward.

Happy memories. Think of happy memories.

She took a deep breath as her feet carried her forward, weaving through the rag-tag alleys that had long since fallen into utter disrepair. Happy memories.

She remembered her darling son. They had spent the day doing laundry, which was a routine of theirs a few times a month. He loved getting soap on his hands, brushing bubbles over his darlingly chubby cheeks. Five-year-old Levi's favourite part was dipping the clothing into the soapy water, then handing it to her to scrub against the washboard. He liked to see how dirt and grime disappeared from the cloth, and he adored the scent of soap.

After they put it all up on the line, it was time for bed, so with him in her arms, she went back to the room. It was so heavenly and peaceful as they laid in the bed, smelling clean and being satisfactorily worn-out from doing the laundry. Kuchel rested her cheek on the pillow, sleepily admiring his profile as he laid on his back beside her, making up stories about whatever he could think of. She replied with hums of content and understanding, though her eyes grew heavy at the sound of his adorable voice. His words always sounded so angelic, as though he had been gifted with the tonal quality of delicate, tinkling wind chimes. Her grandfather had chimes at his home in the interior that sounded just like that.

Kuchel hadn't realised she had begun to fall asleep until Levi's gentle hand touched her face, and he leaned forward to give her a tiny peck on the lips and the narrow of her nose. "I love you, Mama. Sleep tight, don't let the bee-buhs bite."

That made her open her eyes, and exhale in mild amusement. " I love you too, Li-Li-kins. Bee-buhs? What are those, baby?"

"Icky things. Crawlies."

"Oh, baby, those are bed bugs." She giggled tiredly, putting her arm around his small frame to pull him closer.

"What I said, Mama. Beddy-buhs."

Stifling a chuckle, she brought him into a warm embrace, kissing his cheek. "Goodnight, Levi. My little angel…"

The memory had brought a smile to her face, but there was something about this place that just kept trying to pull her back, trying to snatch her away to a miserable part of her mind that she desperately wanted to leave.

It was then that Kuchel remembered the first time that Levi ever truly broke her heart.

"Mommy, I hate you."

Those words shattered her heart as though it were made of fragile glass and he had chucked a rock straight into her chest.

She was exhausted and bedraggled, sitting on their bed as he stood at the door, having just shut it behind him. Levi was so small, around three years old and innocently adorable. But the words that came from him were uncharacteristic, completely out of the blue. It didn't make it hurt any less.

Kuchel had been nursing fresh bruises that marred her pallid skin, due to her last client taking out the anger from his day job on her. Somehow, even with him having hit her in the face, it wasn't evident on the surface yet. Tears immediately sprung to her argent eyes.

"W-Why, baby? Why do you hate me?" A sob left her lips, and Kuchel wished that she had noticed the look of confusion on his face sooner as he came closer to her.

"Cus man hurt you, Mama. Titan man hurt you. Boo-boos." His tiny finger reached to touch the large bruise forming quickly on her forearm, and the concern etched in his features made her realise something.

He didn't know what 'hate' even meant. She had never used that word with him, so where did he learn it? What did he think he was saying?

Using the remainder of her strength to pick him up and bring him into her lap, she touched his cheek hesitantly, her own face wet with hot tears as an aching pain radiated in her chest. "Baby, where did you hear that?"

"Cree-stow. Titan man make her mad. She yell at him when he leave."

"Levi, sweetheart. 'Hate' means you don't like someone, that you don't love them, not that they made you upset."

The fractured shards of her heart that were once glass were crushed into a fine sand when tears bubbled in her darling son's aqua-speckled eyes. "I-I'm so sorry Mama, so so sorry. Please don't hate me, Mama. I love you, I don't hate you!"

With a whimper of relief escaping her lips, she enveloped him in her arms, kissing his cheeks to brush the tears away and cradling his head. "Oh sweetheart, I forgive you, everything is okay. And I could never hate you. You are my everything. I love you more than anything."

"P-Promise, Mommy?"

"Oh, Levi. I promise with all my heart. I will love you always, no matter what."

When she made it back to the edge of the Rookery, Kuchel touched the apples of her cheeks, feeling that tears had dripped from the corners of her eyes. Those memories had overwhelmed her senses so much that she didn't even realise how far she had travelled on foot.

Her hands seized the ODM gear handles again, and with a bit more confidence this time around, she zipped back over the untouchable zone that stretched before her. It was strange, seeing the Underground City across the way, completely illuminated by glimmering oil lanterns in windows. For a moment, it almost seemed beautiful, but then she remembered all of the shit that this place had put her through.

Walls, she wasn't even meant to live down here, was she?

She could have had a better life. A life in the drizzling rays of the sun.
But if I hadn't lived down here, then I wouldn't have ever had Levi. I wouldn't change that for anything in the entire world.

When she landed across the way, she quickly put the gear away, readjusting it on her thighs to make it lie more vertically against her legs. Levi had taught her that it made it less easy to see beneath cloaks, or better yet, skirts. She had a use for that later.

It was roughly three in the morning now. Perfect.

She had made it back to the southern section of the Underground City, having only come across a few straggling souls that were hopped up on drugs or begging for food. Kuchel paid them no mind, only focused on getting the fuck out of this trash heap of a city and finding her son.

What was happening to Levi right now? Was the military hurting him, torturing him for information about his supposed crimes? How could he have even been doing illegal things? None of this made any sense, but one thing was for sure that gave her some peace.

No matter what they did, only she and Kenny knew that Levi was an Ackerman.

The Military Police building was very close to a small stairwell to the surface, not the main one that most people took to get up into Mitras. It was old, fairly unmanned most of the time besides a few guards posted at the doors, and easy pickings for someone like Kuchel. The everyday man on the street would struggle to get in undetected, but she had a knack for getting in and out of places without anyone ever knowing she had ever stepped foot inside. When she was younger, Kenny would give her a boost into bakeries so she could climb in through a vent to crawl in, steal bread, and worm her way back out.

This time, it wasn't bread. It was far more important than some flour and yeast.

She never understood it, why she could lighten her footfalls to be as quiet as a mouse, or why she could hold her breath for so long if she had to be silent, but she was never going to complain about it.

All it took was one sideward glance away from a lazy guard, and one open window.

Even her landing was like that of a nimble cat, and as she slinked around in the office, her blue-grey eyes darted around to make sure she was alone. It was the dead of night. No one was going to catch her in here.

And no one did.

It was simple enough, fumbling around in a drawer until she found the notary stamp. She changed the date on the device to make it notarised some time after her birth, only stamping it hard enough to make the letters legible– if the ink looked too fresh, it would make guards who looked at it suspicious of her. Next, she took off the signet ring, grabbing the ink and dipping it in. Her eyes were trained on the gemstone, watching the dark, black ink drip back into the bottle before pressing a firm stamp into its assigned spot on the paper.

And it was done.

There, between the pads of her index finger and thumb, was the key to her freedom, to finding her son. Walls be damned, she was going to find him and do whatever it took to bring him home.

After hopping back out the window, Kuchel ducked into an abandoned home, peeling off the cloak for a moment to slip on a skirt over the bulky ODM gear, as well as a thin blouse to make sure that the straps on her abdomen and chest weren't visible. After fastening the cloak clasp back at her throat, the noirette made sure that she had everything she needed in her satchel before making her way to the stairwell, head held high.

It was important that she held no nervousness in her eyes, that her posture exhibited no signs of tension. The thugs at the base of the stairwell who took the tolls caught onto that shit in a second, and would try to intimidate and bully you into giving them every last Sina, Rose, and Maria you had to pass by. Kuchel Ackerman was no fool, and she definitely didn't have the time to toy around with any more men than she had to.

Once reaching the base, she took her hood down, her eyes half-lidded and concentrated, with no signal to alert anyone looking her way that she was riddled with anxiety.

Confidently, she raised her hand, the citizenship card between her two fingers to hand to one of the lackeys. A more chubby one grabbed it from her, glancing over it for a moment before handing it back. "What's yer business goin' up so late, ma'am?"

"If you must know, I need to catch one of the boats going to the interior. I like to get the early ones." She said simply in a mimicked, slightly pompous tone, tucking the card away. Knowing they would likely let her continue on with a payment, Kuchel dug out two Sinas, their golden hue looking brilliant even in the dingy light of the Underground. "I need to get going, if you don't mind. Will this be enough?"

His eyes lit up, taking the coins and nodding before signaling for one of the other men to open the little gate up for her. "Wow, Miss, it's like ya read my mind! Have fun on the surface!"

"I will, thank you kindly."
As soon as she was far enough up the steps, she exhaled in relief.

They didn't even notice the gear under my skirt. Thank the Walls, what buffoons.

Although, a thought popped into her head, and she turned around and shouted down to the chubbier man. "Excuse me, but I was wondering something. Did you hear what happened to those three kids that got taken by the Scouts?"

"Oi, yeah! I think they got taken back to the Scout's base, Miss!"

"Do you happen to know anyone who took him?"

"Uh, I think his name was Erwin Smith. Rumour has it that big-eyebrowed fuck is a Section Leader!"

"Ah, is he now? Well, I was just curious and figured you may know. Thank you!"

Erwin Smith. She was going to etch that name into her memory, carve it into his skin with her fucking knife for taking her baby away. The heels of her boots tapped against the stone stairs as she marched her way up, not phased in the slightest at the incline or amount of steps. Kuchel may not have been out and about like Levi all the time, but she wasn't out of shape by any stretch of the imagination. Time at home meant she liked to do stretches and exercise when Levi was working, plus, ODM gear needed a lot of core strength. Most people forgot that.

Before she made it up past a certain point, she paused to look back at the cavern. The subterranean wasteland she had called home for her entire life, not even knowing until now that she almost had the chance to never experience the hell within it. Her eyes reflected the glittering lights, and as she turned to make her way up the last flight of stairs to the surface, she wondered something.

What did Levi think, the first time he got to see the sun?

It was a look she had wanted to be there for, to see the beauty of her handsome son in the natural sunlight for the first time. No doubt he would have knocked the socks off any lady who passed by him, but she would never know the way his eyes probably widened to take in the azure, vast expanse of the open sky, or the puffiness of the clouds.

Now it was night, and her dark eyes adjusted to the lack of ambient light to make it easier to see her surroundings. Tilting her chin up, Kuchel exhaled deeply as she took in the sight of the Moon and the stars, admiring the twinkling and brilliance of the sight. Sometimes she forgot that the darkness of the night sky was intensely different from the darkness of the ceiling of the Underground City.

Levi, where exactly are you? Are you looking at the moon, too?

So... [tilts back in chair, tents hands]. I decided I wanted to dig into the life of Kuchel and the other Ackermans. Since we don't get a lot of background on them, it means I can have some creative freedom. I wonder what her mother was so afraid of her for? [takes a puff off of a pipe].

Kudos to StarlitScarlet for giving me so many ideas on this. Originally, this chapter was going to be a lot more tame, but talking to her gave me some evil ideas for this chapter.

Song Award AND Title Award goes to Nightmare by Kohta Yamamoto, but I also was heavily vibing to Splinter Wolf and Memory Lane from the same soundtrack. The new AOT soundtrack for Season 4 is phenomenal.