Walking Among Spirits (Levi x Reader) [REWRITE]

[ Chapter 9 ]

Content Warnings:

•Season 4 Spoilers
•Strong Language
•Toxic Religion
•Restraint
•Violence
•Burning
•Blood
•Fire

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Sensitive content is present in this chapter, please read at your own discretion.

Flashback

Your father leaned against the doorframe to your bedroom as you laid on the floor and pointed out different people on a drawing for your grandfather. "That's my friend, Katsumi. She's taller than me." You pointed to a sketch of a girl. "And that's her big sister, Miyuki." Your father continued to watch. In that one moment, he would never admit he believed you were actually communicating with your grandfather.

You happened to glance up and notice your father in the mirror, watching you. "Daaad!" You whined and got up to shove him out. "Can I watch you, (nickname)?" He quickly asked while he backed out. "No!" You replied without hesitation and shut the door when he was out of the way. You returned to the floor to continue showing your grandfather drawings of your friends and family but his visiting spirit was gone. You sighed in disappoint, forgetting that whenever you were not focused on a spirit, they disappeared. "See you later then, pop." You mumbled and slid the drawings over into a pile to put away in your desk.

When you placed the slightly wrinkled and bent drawings back in the drawer, you glanced at the others you did not pull out. All of them were drawings of your mother, or, at least, what you imagined she would have looked like. Thinking about all the spirits you had encountered so far, none of them resembled your drawings. No one looked similar enough to look like your mother. It was not possible for her to meet you without realizing. Since your brothers nor father ever wanted to feed into your questions about the absent woman, asking your grandfather was probably the next best thing. Although, you were pretty certain that even he wouldn't answer those questions.

What did she do to make them stay this silent?

Flashback End

A minuscule droplet of water rolls its way across a beam, gathering enough density for gravity to weigh it down, eventually dripping onto your cheek. The cool moisture steadily wakes you from a deep slumber, eyes still out of focus as they try to stay open long enough to recognize your whereabouts. The smell of dirt drafts through your senses as your eyes shift and stay open, finally. You can't tell what your surroundings are besides the cracked stone walls, closing off as a small square room. The floor beneath your skin is moist and dusty, covered in dirt and straw. Cobwebs litter the ceiling and deep corners of the dim room, only a few skinny streams of light making their way inside between the door's planks and the keyhole. You have never seen a place this filthy before.

Your wrists are fastened together behind your back and resting on the lower part of it, so, using all your leftover core strength, you pull yourself off the ground, sitting with your legs crossed beneath you. As your blood flow shifts from the change in position, your head throbs with a tender pain, unable to recall what caused it. Looking down at yourself, you realize that the clothes on your body don't belong to you. You've been clothed in a raggedy old dress, not daring to wonder where it came from. Where did your uniform even go? Sighing through your nose, you wonder if you should convert to breathing orally but you would rather not accidentally inhale a bug. So, nasal it is. Wherever you are, you don't want to be in long. The room is humid and very unpleasant. At the very least, someone could have given you a bed or a stool to sit on. When would someone come to retrieve you, though? Or, maybe, even bail you out of this sticky hell hole?