" war changes people. "
; you and eren find
yourselves on the
receiving end of a
devastating war
heavily inspired by:
the sniper by liam o' flaherty
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It was a dreary night in midwinter when the enemy struck again upon the northern unit. It was sudden and harsh, and at least fifty allied men were lost from dusk till dawn.
You sat flush against the concrete wall under the parapet on an old building's roof. Your rifle sat still, slung over your shoulder and fully loaded. Your face was dripping with sweat, your clothes drenched in it.
Your comrades were scattered somewhere across the town, hiding in the fog beyond your vision.
And so was Eren.
Before the skirmish broke out, you and he had made a promise to always find each other, even if in death. You knew that after this was over and done with, he'd be waiting for you. Hopefully, alive at that.
The last you'd seen of him had been at a feast held fourteen nights before the present. He was acting strange, saying things like how much he liked being around you and was always on your side. It was true that he'd always been fond of you, but he showed it very blatantly that night, especially when he gave you a gentle kiss on your cheek before the night had ended.
"You have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen," he'd said, cupping your jaw between his hands. He gazed into your face, his eyes glancing over every inch, every etched detail in your cheekbones, nose, and lips. You couldn't help but notice how desperately sad he looked when you departed from him.
Shouts from the street snapped you out of your thoughts. You repositioned, so the head of your rifle pointed downward towards the cobble. A group of soldiers, heavily armed, exited a pub, laughing with what little sobriety they had left in them.
"Fucking animals," you grumbled, leaning against the stone overhang. You had a temptation in the back of your mind to blow their brains right out of their tiny skulls and stain the wall with their blood, but instead, you sunk beneath the cover of the wall and let yourself fall into a dangerously light slumber.
...
A flaming sear of pain awoke you with a start. A bullet had ricocheted off the tin roof and struck itself into your shoulder. Your arm was dead. You were incapacitated and unable to use your rifle without it amounting to extreme pain and inconvenience.
You grabbed a knife from the ground and sliced through the seam of the bloodstained sleeve. Slick scarlet blood already coated the skin around the wound and seeped through the cloth of your overcoat.
You felt around the tender flesh in agony until you found a small metal pellet lodged directly in your bone. The seeping blood had slowed to a trickle down your arm. If you could call for help, you might be able to save your arm before sepsis got to it. But doing that risked exposing your position.
The only way to prevent further infection was to wrap it, but the only cloth in decent condition was your overcoat. You decided to cut a large strip out of the arm to create a makeshift bandage, even if it meant sacrificing your primary source of warmth.
Before wrapping the cloth around the wound, you took a small vial of iodine from your pocket and broke the neck haphazardly, letting a few drops fall onto the bloody skin. You bit into the soft flesh of your lip to keep yourself from crying out in pain. Without sparing a second, you wrapped the cloth tightly on the wound.
Clank
You paused, hearing the sound of a tin can drop from the parapet opposite yours. Warily, you peeled above the concrete wall, letting only the top of your head show. A man was staring back at you, silhouetted in the blazing streetlights. You heard the click of a rifle reload and ducked back down as a bullet whizzed over the spot where you were positioned just seconds before.
"Son of a bitch," you cursed, clumsily reloading your rifle and sticking the mouth out onto the wall. Another shot rang out, this one right past your ear. Cautiously and slowly, you waited quietly until the man paused to reload his rifle, ducking down beneath the wall.
The air stood heavy and dark as the man tipped his head back to take aim. The rim of his hat bobbed into sight, and you pulled your finger back. The recoil shot through your arm and knocked you back onto the ground.
"Shit!" you cursed, grabbing your arm and peering over the ledge. The enemy's rifle teetered on the edge before clattering down to the pavement below. The man had stood up in a futile attempt to grab it before it fell, exposing his chest.
Another bullet ripped through his body as you pulled the trigger, watching as he staggered in pain. He clutched his chest and fell limp over the edge. A heavy thud rang through the alley as the man lay deceased on the stones.
You glanced around, pride booming in your chest. You'd finally gotten your first kill on the battlefield; Eren would be proud. In a short inspection of your surrounding, you determined it was safe to descend to observe the man you'd killed.
A pool of blood surrounded him, and his dark hair shrouded his eyes. You knelt, but terror quickly swelled over your pride.
Brushing his hair back, you recognised his facial features, the slight curve in his nose and his thick, angry eyebrows.
"Eren.."
