Tainted (Levi x Reader)

Chapter 35

The next day was training with Anya. You marveled at her transformation from a malnourished, dull-eyed little kid to the more toned, nimble girl that you sparred with. And more than that, she had quickly become like a little sister to you.

"Mind your feet placement," you advised as you stood with crossed arms, studying Anya's fighting stance.

"But isn't this fine?" She glanced at her feet with a frown.

You approached and extended a hand, lightly prodding her shoulder with one finger. Her arms shot out as she stumbled, trying to regain her balance.

"I shouldn't be able to push you over like that. Remember to keep it wider and not point both your feet in the same direction like that." You got into a fighting stance to show her.

Anya quickly copied, adjusting her feet and looking to you for approval. You nodded to her with a proud smile, looking over your shoulder as the sun glinted through the trees. Not long until sunset.

"Alright, off with you. You did well today." You passed Anya your flask of water as the two of you make for the tree line together. She hands it back and you watch her go, just as you had so many times before. Oddly, the knot of worry that came with watching her go still persisted, every single time.

You turned away to head back to the ravine, your mind unable to settle on any particular train of thought as you walked.

The distant but sharp snap of a twig sounded somewhere behind you. You immediately threw your back against a tree and leaned over just enough to peer around the other side. Nothing was there. You stayed still long enough to let your heart return to a normal pulse, suspicious but nonetheless feeling silly. That could've been anything. A deer, for all I know. I've seen them around here before.

You kept going, reaching the ravine and settling down for the night.

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You stared into the dancing flames of a fire, trying to quell your overwhelming fear as the light reflected in your wide (e/c) eyes. It made you lightheaded, sick to your stomach and shaky with dread.

You could take pretty much any form of torture, perform any... but not fire. Feeling the heat lightly kiss your skin from a distance, as you did now, terrified you. It brought back memories of cold, damp cellars and the white-hot contrast of an iron on your skin.

A sharp smack stung your cheek. "Pay attention!"

Your eyes snapped from the fireplace to meet your father's darkened ones. He gave you a glare before turning back to your client. It was a younger man than his typical allies. A man in his thirties who had suddenly inherited his father's brothel business, and he didn't know shit about running it. You and your father were there to revisit the old contract and make sure he was well versed in the terms.

The man had looked away as your father slapped you, and his eyes remained on the floor as he answered a question he had been asked. "As you k-know, Mr. (L/n), I have no experience in this sort of thing. I met with a banker shortly after my father passed, and he told me that I could liquidate this company."

"Oh?" Your father clasped his hands together and leaned forward with narrowed eyes. "And do what with the girls? You plan to kill them yourself, or something?"

"Transfer them to other brothels at a discounted price," he answered, trying and failing to appear casual.

"A discounted price? Huh, they'd surely take it, but that doesn't work for me. You see," your father stood, rounding the table. He set his hands on the back of the man's chair, gripping tightly on either side of his shoulders. He leaned forward next to his ear, smirking as the man tensed and turned his face away in cowardice. "That'd just put me out of business for a while. You trying to screw me over, boy?"

"N-No! Never!" the man yelped, tears pricking his eyes. "I just can't do this! The business will fail eventually with me at the helm!"

Your father leaned away with a contemplative frown. "Yeah, you're right. Your old man had balls. You," he grabbed him by the collar and lifted him out of the chair, "do not." He dragged the man with him as he approached the fire, holding his face down against the hearth as the man flailed in vain against the proximity of the heat. He ignored his screams and pleas.

"(Y/n), be a dear and hold this spineless shithead down for your old man, will you?"

You instinctively obeyed, immobilizing him with a knee in the center of his back and your hands pinning his wrists to his shoulder blades. Your father grabbed a stoker and nudged a faintly glowing log until he could safely reach an end of it that had been sticking out of the fire. He pulled it free and lifted it, immediately swinging it down and smashing it into the man's head over and over until the fire on it was put out and it was in pieces.

You closed your eyes as it happened, trying to pretend you didn't exist for a moment, just to get through what was happening right in front of you. You felt the heat of the fireplace and of the wood as it swung past your face, making beads of sweat run down your skin. It mingled with spatters of blood from the man, who had gone limp after the first couple of swings.

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You woke up with a strangled scream, sitting up and leaning over to cough again and again. You still felt the heat searing your skin. That was when your senses adjusted to being awake, and you scanned your surroundings.

Everywhere you looked, fire blazed. Along the tops of the ravine, it enveloped trees and greedily ate through the lush foliage, leaving nothing but blackened remains. What the fuck happened?!

You jumped to your feet and searched desperately for a way out. A tree suddenly cracked and fell, crashing down into the ravine not far from you. It still burned intensely, blocking your usual route. You turned and started jogging down the other way, your lungs struggling from inhaling smoke. You tried to push yourself onward by grabbing the sides of the ravine, stumbling and tripping in your haste.

Every one of your senses was screaming at you with a panic that made your legs feel weak, but you forced yourself to keep going.

The fire seemed endless, and what little hope you had was fading fast. You needed to get out of here, and quick. You eventually found a place in the side of the ravine that looked like a better option for climbing than any you'd seen so far. With watering eyes and gritted teeth, you grabbed at the somewhat sharp rock and hauled yourself up, little by little until you reached the top. But this was no place to stop and rest. Everything around you was a sea of flames.

As you trudged blindly on, you tried to hold your shirt over your nose as a filter. You weaved around and made small jumps over burning debris, your mind only growing fuzzier from the lack of oxygen. Am I... in hell? Tears began to fall, not just from the heat and exhaustion. They fell to the ground with barely audible hisses against the flames. Of course I am. All those people I've killed, tortured, hurt...

You began to notice the trees thinning out a bit, and the worst of the fire seemed to be behind you. Relief hit you like a ton of bricks (you knew exactly what that felt like), and hope flared up again, rivaling the roaring flames you'd left behind.

You were practically crawling by this point, until you finally broke free of the trees in a coughing, ash-covered mess. You fell all the way and continued to drag yourself a bit further, just to be sure you were at a safe distance. You slumped with your face pressed against the cool grass, breathing raggedly. Turning your head to the side to gaze up at the night sky, something blocked your view. The hazy figure that looked over you went in and out of focus as your body threatened to shut down.

You were too tired to even feel panic as you finally made out the face, and by the time you did, your eyes had slipped shut. Standing above you, boots next to your face, was your father.