TRIGGER WARNING: IMPLICATIONS OF RAPE, ANXIETY, DISASSOCIATION AND SYMPTOMS OF CLAUSTROPHOBIA.
THIS CHAPTER ALSO BRIEFLY MENTIONS OF SUICIDE.
Hot pink neon lights and rectangular ad boards swayed with the wind. That, or it could be your eyes playing tricks on you again, considering that all you were seeing at the moment were bordered with vignettes. Oh, right— you were squinting your eyes so you could see better. Stupid, stupid. How could someone see with their eyes practically closed?
It was neon pink, all right. Lucky Humper, it read. Lucky. Humper. Lucky Humper. You hump a girl and hope she doesn't get pregnant. Was that what it meant? You heard a chuckle, and later on realized that it came from you.
But why did the letters move? The pink shine got brighter and its rays sharper whenever you tilted your neck and squinted your eyes to a curved line. Huh. Maybe you have an eye problem, or maybe you're really, really drunk. You widened your eyes to stay awake or at least sober up a little but it was no use. You even used your thumb and your index finger to open up your eyeballs but it wasn't helping at all. You could feel them roll backwards, refusing to work properly in your intoxicated state. The world spun like crazy. You felt queasy.
Then the front of your shirt felt sticky and cold, and you smelled like sour restaurant leftovers.
Obnoxious, muffled beats from the club you were in just minutes ago told you that you hadn't got very far. You neither wore anything flashy nor showy clothes. You were ready to get hammered on your graphic tee and plain jeans tonight. You weren't there for the boys, it was never the boys. It was all about the drinks and the blissful aftereffect. You can't afford to ruin the fancies if you're gonna have fun, right? Arianne was so adamant going home early and kept reminding you time and again to keep the shots at the bare minimum of three.
Not that you cared.
You were singing to the music, though you didn't remember which song it was. It just felt good to wobble to the beat with your eyes closed, lyrics all wrong, seeing the dancing red lights in your eyelids when it hits. You responded with a scoff and a retort to Arianne before you downed a shot of tequila. No chasers, no salts, no nothing. You groaned at the burning sensation in your throat. You were sure you yelled something again but you weren't aware what they were about. If you were standing, it didn't feel like it. If you were sitting, it didn't feel like it either. Just that, the space comfortably swirled when you closed your eyes, your eyelids heavy at the compulsion of alcohol.
You could feel your doom slowly melting away.
"Phoebe, we need to go!" There it was, clear as day, clear as sober. Finally, you heard her, and her face registered. She was too close, just her face profile and none of her hair in your vignetted line of vision. She looked… worried. In panic? Maybe. But how could she not be having fun? This place is literally built for those three letters!
"It's late, I don't like staying in this part of town this late!" Arianne practically yelled at your ear.
"But we gotta celebrate!" You yelled back, holding back the puke in your throat. "I didn't ace the entrance exam but at least I got in!"
"I'm so sorry—"
"For?!" You had to pause or else tequila oatmeal would splurge on the floor. Oh shit, will they kick you out? Oh no… fucking way you cared! "Lesson number one Arianne—"
"Some guys are looking at us." She talked in your ear. "I wanna go home. I don't feel safe—"
"You're allowed to question your parents' judgment or they'll end up dictating your life!"
"There's hardly any taxis in this part of town!"
"Second!"
"Phoebe, let's go, please —"
"Shhhhhut up!" Your index finger waved in front of Arianne, immediately silencing her. "Take risks!"
"Phoebe, the only way out here is an alley! A dangerous, narrow, dark alley!" You could feel yourself being propped up, and getting dragged somewhere. You heard the music getting louder, the red light crazier, more warm, sweaty bodies danced and pressed on you, and then the music started to fade and fade and fade.
And the chilly wind of the city stabbed through your thin, short sleeved shirt.
You could never forget that pink neon sign.
Rectangular ad boards swayed with the wind, that annoying creak of its hinges. The only source of light.
That mocking, muffled beat and their silhouettes rhythmically thrusting to it.
They were silent. You wished they made a sound or a-a snicker, a whoop of encouragement as they took turns but they didn't. It was just Arianne's groans of protests, her tired, desperate gasps after she gagged to breathe for air. And she tried calling for help— calling for you and you heard her— God knows you tried to do something but something was wrong because the world rotated at a rapid pace even though the floor felt solid and cold and wet against your cheek.
Arianne stayed in the hospital for weeks after that.
Months in suicide rehab.
Years of therapy.
And a lifetime of invisible scars.
You found yourself sucked back to the entrance of the tunnel. Chirping birds. Rustling of leaves. Conversations layered on top of that. It was like removing someone's hands covering your ears.
"Gas the torches." Levi said. They prepared the stuff and all you did was stand there, just looking at the entrance of the tunnel. Dread filled you just by looking at it. There was something sinister about that pitch black darkness. Like something would pull you and drag you to the void once you set one foot inside. How long does that tunnel go? Will there be oxygen inside so that the torches won't go out? Will there be corpses? Someone should've dumped a body inside at some point of it being abandoned. And why did it ever become abandoned at all?
No, no no no no. You shouldn't be thinking about any of these. Darkness is, yes, dreadful but you won't step inside without the group. That's assurance right there, right?
But what if there are people from Kenny's squad waiting to ambush you? That wasn't helping— it just made your hands clammy. You could feel the cold sweat coming in.
Maybe there's a different route to Eren?
"The tunnel's narrow…" You overheard and you were surprised that the gasp came from your lips. You tried to swallow a ball of spit but your throat had a bigger lump inside; licked your lips but somehow, your tongue felt sandy.
You could hear Oluo's gurgle a hundred fucking times louder and lower it seemed to echo inside your head. It was irritating.
"Reeves won't be there until tonight. We've got time. We've got to go by twos." Levi talked animatedly. So you were going in after all? Shit. Shit. Shit! It's not that alleyway. You reminded yourself. It won't smell like mold and restaurant leftovers. There won't be hinges that'll creak. There won't be hot pink neon signs or ad boards but somehow, your brain always finds that difficult to differentiate.
Fear is irrational. Your therapist once said. Sucks you weren't paying attention to anything after that.
"Phoe—" Petra looked shocked. "Are you… okay?"
You wondered what made her ask that. The group blankly stared at you and for the first time now, you were aware of how much you were trembling. You must've been staring at the mouth of the tunnel for quite some time.
"Yeah— of course. Sorry." You said, closing your mouth. You wondered how long had it been hanging like that. "I was paying attention. It's just…" You had to swallow otherwise you'll gag.
"Just?" Petra waited, her face painted with concern.
"Just—" Your chest tightened as you took a deep breath before pursing your lips in a tight line, exhaling from your nose. "Just catching my breath from hiking."
"You look sick, not that I'm concerned." Ymir said nonchalantly.
"I'm fine."
Petra's neck slowly craned back to her long time colleagues with her eyes still fixed on you. "If you say so."
They lit up their torches. Eld and Levi, Oluo and Petra, Ymir and Gunther, then you. You wanted to back away and run the opposite direction but your feet didn't even want to move. It took sheer willpower to take the first step, and your everything to take the succeeding others. The group talked about things— what minerals they used to mine, the lore of the tunnels; if they knew someone mining and lunch and Eld's daughter and you were grateful they did. You were grateful for the noise, because those men didn't talk.
"This was supposed to be a mining ground for metals, I heard." Gunther said.
"Ah, for the blades?" Oluo. "I didn't know factory city got them here."
"No, for pots." Gunther. "Reeves ran a small mining business in the past."
"This is a long tunnel." It was Petra this time. "I can't even see the exit."
"That's because it's curved." Eld.
"Oh." Petra. The conversation bounced from person to person.
Oluo. Petra. Gunther. Levi.
"...out, Phoebe?" Eld.
"Sorry, what?" You said.
"I said, any scary stories back home?"
"None."
"Oh."
"How about you titan?" Eld.
"I have a name."
Eld. Levi. Petra.
Ymir. Levi. Petra.
"This place is so creepy." Petra.
"What, you scared?" Oluo. "You can hold my hand."
"No thank you. I can hold mine." Petra.
Gunther. Ymir. Oluo. Gunther. Levi.
Eld. Levi. Petra. Eld.
You crossed your arms, tightly clutching the fabric of your shirt to transfer the dread. You contained your whimpers— your lips clasped so tightly so you won't utter a sound. This isn't that damn alley. This isn't that dark alley. No— no, you weren't back at it. This isn't that dark alley. You are in a wall of hardened soil with wooden support. You are in that dodgy alley 10 minutes from that club, not in Paradis. Not hot pink neon lights but orange torches. Just rhythmic footsteps, not rhythmic, slapping thrusts. Not screeching bats but creaking hinges. Not screeching bats but… creaking hinges. Oh my god— which is which, you didn't know anymore. There should be a distinction— there should be! The more time you spent thinking where to draw reality from your past, the faster these walls closed in on you while their blurred, spiralled, distorted pictures lurched just far enough to see exactly how it took place. Your neck prickled with cold sweat, your lungs felt crumpled and the air was—
The air was—
"Eld, would you mind walking a little faster?"
"Hm— oh shit. Of course, cap."
There was no air, or maybe your lungs weren't working anymore.
"Phoebe?" That was Petra. You could still recognize her. She's here, thank goodness— she's still here! "Phoebe, are you okay?" There was panic in her voice. You should lie. You won't ruin the operation—
"Yeah, just—"
The floor felt solid and cold and wet against your palm. Then your forearm. Then the side of your body—
"Fuck me, I know you're claustrophobic but you should've reminded me." Someone carried you. Just where were they taking you?
"She's what sir?"
"Claustrophobic. Fear of tight, dark places— stay with us now…"
He was calm, Levi sounded calm but he sounded so distant. Hasty footsteps— no, running. Were you running from something? You knew it, they're coming for you. Levi's running. Footsteps chased you. It's them, isn't it? They're chasing you. It's your turn now.
"Leave me behind…" You mumbled the words but you meant them. With utmost sincerity, you did— you really did. You said them again, but this time, firmer, hoping they could trace the sincerity, not the fear in your voice.
"Not her— leave… leave her alone…"
"She's delusional sir."
"Yes, I have ears— keep running."
It was an alternate motion of past and present, but both felt like a distant memory. Like you were witnessing something first hand yet cast aside as a mere spectator. A motion picture with vignette and yet, you could feel every touch. Arianne's shrieks were yours and yours were hers. Your mind was elsewhere, somewhere in the present and past in abrupt, nauseating transitions.
You should let them have their way. If they flocked to you, will they leave Arianne alone?
Probably. Hopefully. You deserved it anyway.
"I deserve it…"
"Yes, a cell for ruining the operation—"
Suddenly, you felt like crying.
"Sir, if we rush to the exit, there might be enemies waiting for ambush."
"If they're here now, but Reeves're gonna reach this place sometime tonight."
"Doesn't mean no one's manning it."
You chanted songs, you recited pi, you blurted out poems… you knew you did. But this was bad. You couldn't hear yourself. You were losing it. Losing it because these worked before and now it didn't. No one could pull you out.
Someone.
Help.
Help me.
"Help me!" Arianne cried before her mouth was intruded without welcome nor grace.
"What a shitty day we're having— Eld, Oluo, Gunther, prepare for combat ." Levi said calmly, his voice juggled as he ran.
"Snap out of it, it's not real." There he was, it was Levi. Did he just slap you on both cheeks? "Groan if you hear me."
You groaned, but you didn't hear yourself groan. You could see him somehow. Make out his shape in pinks then orange. In flickering lights to licking torches.
"We're out in the open soon, hang on."
Levi's voice had more texture when he sounded panicky. Comfortably rougher, like splintered wood. You could never live with silence.
"Petra, I'm gonna give her to you. Watch her."
"Yes sir!"
"Eld, Oluo, Gunther." Levi called out.
"Yes sir!"
The air slowly got drier in comparison to the damp, moldy scent of the underground. You could hear birds again slowly increasing in volume.
A glimpse of sunlight under your eyes and suddenly, you were basking under its glory, and you found yourself gasping for shameless whips of air.
Chirping birds, the swayful rustling of leaves. Playful spots of sunlight hit your eyes. There were no hot pink lights anymore. You were safe, safe until you heard a series of gunshots, a yelp of pain, the violent shaking of trees as if someone's making it move. The serenity of the place was replaced by an abrupt clash.
"GUNTHER! SHIT!" Petra dragged you back inside the tunnel, deep enough where the light still cracked inside, but not compromising you and Petra's safety. Everyone anticipated men securing the area, that was why the squad was prepared to wait inside the tunnel at a safe distance, but now that's ruined and you swallowed with difficulty realizing you made the operation impossible now. The ambush won't work because the squad will likely kill the men guarding the area and the Anti-Personnel Control will know some of their members were killed then—
The trail of thoughts made you stand from the wall you leaned on. Again— again! Your fault, again! Never mind your visions— whether they still swirled or tumbled upside down, it was not an option to care. It won't take half of anyone's brain to figure out what was happening— you knew that you brought them to this vulnerable, unprepared state and Gunther could've been the guy who received the harsh treatment of the bullets!
Levi had a body as their shield while the rest of the squad retreated in the mouth of the tunnel. The rifle Eld had had a flintlock mechanism— the single-shot type, meaning, with this unknown number of APC's surrounding the area, Eld's rifle will never keep up. There must be something to be done— something, something!
"What to do, what to do…"
You peeked outside from the mouth of the tunnel. Roughly fifteen meters, about half a court from where you were. Trees and foliage after that. The forest was dim, you could hardly see any movements, and a rifle of this type wasn't exactly a precise shot. Nothing to hook the gear in the immediate vicinity and you'll be practically trapped inside if you didn't do anything.
If you throw a smoke flare, will they be drawn out, or will they retreat deeper in the forest? If they retreated inside, they'd have the opportunity to send a message to Kenny that someone spoiled the plan and the Reeves will— not an option then.
"Shit..." Petra muttered between her asthmatic breathing. You could see her chest heavily heaving up and down. She shakily aimed her rifle. "I thought I was prepared for this…" You watched her with her shaky hands, as if mentally debating if she should fire it or not.
And Petra loosened her hold on the rifle. "I can't do it, I can't shoot people." She muttered with a great sigh.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, move!" Ymir snatched the rifle from her hand, seemingly nonchalant in aiming but you could see her slight tremor. Ymir was hesitating too. Well, what good were you? You weren't exactly helping either, were you?
"Pull back! Everyone pull back!" Levi threw the body and the group took safety on the tunnel's mouth.
You heard Gunther grunted in pain and the others groaned as they assumed a kneeling position to lay down a long-time friend.
"Shit, I thought they won't be ready when we ambush them in the trading spot." Levi spat. You made yourself useful by whipping out your scissors to cut Gunther's clothes for easy access. You could have sworn you let out a sigh of relief when you found out that he was shot straight on the knee, one on the arm and a graze in the neck.
Until you saw his chest.
Three bloody spots.
"No— no." You found yourself mumbling, your hands frantically taking out the towels you packed and pressed it on his chest. In this kind of situation, you shouldn't take out the bullet right? Or else the blood will gush out and— but what if he was bleeding in the lung and soon he won't be able to breathe? Shit, you didn't know what to do.
"No, Gunther, stay with us." You put your fingers in his neck to get his pulse, but what was normal again? "60 to 100…" You murmured to yourself. 10, 30, 50, 70, 100, 110— "Too fast— Gunther, man, come on! You've got a family waiting— we could take you down in Yarckel and—"
"There's no way we could get out of this without getting riddled with bullets. And Kenny's squad will notice. Bet he could smell the gunpowder once they reached this place." Levi said in a matter-of-factly tone. It irritated you. How could he be this calm during the situation? How could they be just accepting of the fact this could be it for Gunther?
Are you in the right place to think about how they should react when you're the reason you were in this situation in the first place?
"Gunther." A pause, then Levi began speaking again in a very quiet tone. "You understand where this is going, do you?"
"Yes sir." Gunther firmly, yet softly like a whisper. He was calm. Maybe he was beyond feeling pain now. "Just use my body as a shield if that's useful too." Gunther chuckled before deeply breathing in. His chest didn't rise anymore. His arm grew limp that it rolled off your lap.
Then Levi gently closed Gunther's eyes.
Even with the rain of bullets, there was this sort of stillness in the spot of where you were, only to realize later what it was. A simmering rage on the surface, a dangerous ticking of red and Levi's temples pulsed to its beat. Levi's jaws were tight. Gritted, grounding his molars to dust.
The hearse and the Reeves' cart were nearby, you could all hear it.
The tunnel was becoming darker than it already was.
But soon, only the hearse arrived in the most ordinary, unassuming way.
Kenny's squad even parked the hearse out in the open, just in front of the tunnel, where Eren and Historia should be. Should be, except that they weren't there.
Dimo Reeves and his son, Flegel should be inside those coffins, while Eren and Historia should be in the cart, on their way to the whereabouts of Rod Reiss.
"Oi, ugly." Levi referred to Ymir while grabbing Gunther by his collar. "You can take bullets, can't you?"
"Yeah." Ymir replied, unpocketing her hands. "Want me to bite them motherfuckers once you throw him out?"
"Good," Levi said, "You follow."
Then Levi threw Gunther's body far from the hearse, drawing the enemies' gunshots to Gunther and giving away their positions. And once they were almost out of bullets, Ymir emerged as the Jaw titan, with thunder clapping her every step.