Yesterday's Enemy [AoT]

ONE-HUNDRED-AND-TWO

'Purpose is what you make it.'

-An unseen extract written by scholar and journalist Aksel Briggs.

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ONE-HUNDRED-AND-TWO

BANG

Birds flew from their eaves, squawking into the snow-filled sky.

Lorelai loosed a frantic breath, squinting through the snowfall; she'd fired- what had-

The bullet had landed right in her father's side. It had wedged itself just below his ribcage, a mess of blood and flesh.

Shock echoed through the crowd. But Lorelai's ears were numb.

Was she seeing this right? Was it over? Was he dead?

She doubled back, squinting as though her eyes were tricking her. He just... stood there, wobbling, then, with a choke of blood, collapsed into the snow.

Briggs hadn't even fired his gun. The pistol lay unused next to him.

No, this wasn't right, it can't have been that easy-

He laid there, dying in the snow. For a moment, Lorelai thought she was dreaming. His blood leaked it's red contrast onto the ice, stark against the white.

Everyone watched as she approached, and for a moment, the world was silent.

"...Dad?" she whispered.

Briggs' eyes were drooping, skin being leeched of all life, but still, he hung on, clutching at the bullet wound in his middle. He coughed hoarsely, "Hell... that hurt," Briggs grunted, his blood spilling over his hands.

Lorelai knelt next to him. "You're done; I've beaten you."

Briggs chuckled hoarsely, wincing in pain. "You're right... kid. You're better than I ever could be. I'm so..." he exhaled heavily, "proud."

Lorelai winced. It seemed her father would play these damn games until his final breath. "Stop, just die already. What use is there to torment me now?"

"The new Briggs," he smiled breathily, his gaze upwards to the sky. "My work is done... the legacy continues."

Lorelai shook her head, gripping her pistol firmer.

Briggs turned to her, "It's your turn now."

Your turn with power over this land. Your turn to be the people's prize.

Rage rose in Lorelai. How dare he, she stood up, after everything she'd gone through- to have the gall to-

She had squeezed the trigger before she had realised it. Gasps echoed throughout the crowd; Lorelai had shot a greater gash in her father's side.

Briggs groaned, gritting his teeth through the pain.

At last, he was quiet, struck dumb with pain.

"No," she spat. "It's your turn."

Your turn to suffer.

She turned, her ears deaf to the sounds of Adette rushing to Briggs' body, the sounds of the crowd in mania.

Lorelai was completely calm as she walked from the scene. Not a speck of remorse, nor shock at her violent actions. The sight of her father's mangled body had etched itself in her mind— but it was a welcome scar.