HOME | Levi Ackerman (I, II)

Prologue

          "I'm so sorry..." These words echoed in my head as I ran as fast as I could through the dirty streets of the underground. I recalled the blood spilled all over the floor. It was as vivid as the blood coming from the wound on my back that made it harder for me to breathe while running as I turned to the next right corner of the road I was following.

          Why me? Why did I have to do that?

          I had just committed the worst sin someone could ever commit in life and cried my heart out as my legs took me as far as they could take me at the moment. In my hands, I carried the last bag of bread that was trusted me and searched for a safe place to spend the night.

          I am never going back... I want to live in peace!

          I was lead by mere chance to a square I didn't recognise. I wondered if someone had found the house and what was in it by now. I kept running with my head lowered, facing the ground. I felt my sticky, dirty and wet white dress rubbing against my wound, causing a painful sensation all over my body. Distracted by those thoughts, I felt myself bumping into something. I didn't notice what was happening until I had the sight of four men looking at me. Most in disgust.

          "Watch where you're going, brat!" The man that I bumped into said, angry already.

          "Look, she's bleeding." Someone else said in somewhat concern. I could see that he was afraid of the others by the way he looked at them after he spoke. We exchanged a glare for a brief moment. I wondered why he stared at me in compassion if he was surrounded by bad looking people.

          "Think someone would pay good money if we sell her?" Another man said, making me gasp in fear. I understood by his words that they were thugs. For a moment, I could only read their horrific expressions, eyes wandering from face to face.

          Not again... Why can't everyone just let me be? Why can't I feel safe?

          I tried to run away, but the leader of the group pulled my hair and threw me onto the wall behind us. I cried out.

          I felt the wound of my back reacting to the collision and screamed in pain. Fortunately, I fell to the ground which would give me a chance of getting back up if I knew how to pick my cards. If he'd pin me against the wall it surely would've been my end. But still, I had no strength to get up as two of them started to kick my head and stomach in attempt to make me unconscious.

          "I got all dirty because of this bitch... She better serve me good money!" He said as I started to cry in pain. "Just take her." He ordered as he cleaned his hands with an oddly large wiper that he took out of his pocket.

           Before they could come near me, I reached for the bag of bread and pulled out the rusty knife that I kept for protection. Something in me clicked in that moment. I knew what I had to do. Everything had stopped moving, I didn't hear or feel anything but I had this deep dark void in my chest. It wasn't clear how I was watching the scene unfold before me. I felt dizzy but composed at the same time. Warm air escaped my lungs and I stepped forward.

          Emptying my mind, I slashed the throat of the fat man, that tried to grab my waist, open and watched the surprised reaction of the three remaining men standing in front of me. Their loud groanings made me step back knowing they were about to come for me. Their faces were disgusting, like pigs and rats all staring back at me.

          "Grab her!"

          "Go away... Go away!" I shouted.

          I took a look around, knowing a knife would not be enough to free myself from that situation. I needed to think about my next moves to make it out alive. But did I really want it, though? Did I even want to fight for my life? What good could life offer me after this much suffering? I was exhausted of life, yet, and still, I chose to force my way through it. How I knew what to do was a mystery for me but I did not think much about it. My back still hurt and my vision was getting foggy. I watched the man that I just killed fall. Blood spilled all over my arm and face. Some of his neck fat slipping underneath his skin into the rocky and sandy ground, eyes still wide open. No regrets from my part.