ʚ o͏p͏e͏r͏a͏t͏i͏o͏n͏ a͏c͏h͏e͏ ɞ | aot x levi's daughter

chapter nineteen : race

cw : talk of suicide, child murder, gore, a dismembered arm ig, smoking underage

                                                ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

kuchel didn't remember picking up the axe.

kuchel's grip on reality felt tenuous as her hand clutched the axe handle, the cold metal slipping into her fingers almost as an extension of herself. how had she come to wield such a weapon?

the answer was lost in the chaotic haze that enveloped her senses.

"NO - DON'T! SHES JUST A KID! SHE'S JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS!"

the piercing cry of a desperate voice cut through the fog, jerking her gaze away from the figure sprawled on the ground before her. it was as if reality itself had shattered, and kuchel found herself trapped within a macabre theater of violence. her attention snapped to the source of the voice, her eyes meeting those of another man donned in the same blood-soaked military police uniform. his eyes were pools of pleading, imploring her to reconsider, to acknowledge the innocence that clung to the young girl's trembling form.

"she j-just joined l-last week," he informed, voice cracking with fear, "she's a good kid, p-please - leave her alone,"

the words he shouted struck her like a physical blow, injecting a moment of clarity into the madness. the girl, so recently initiated into their grim world, was merely following orders.

kuchel's features contorted into an expression of confusion and internal conflict, her brows furrowing as if trying to make sense of the impossible choice laid before her.

time seemed to stall as kuchel's gaze held firm on the man's beseeching eyes. she felt an inexplicable weight pressing down on her, as if the entirety of the universe was suspended in that silent gaze. a silence engulfed her, a chasm of contemplation that stretched for an eternity within her mind.

then, her voice broke through the stillness, a whisper carried by a twisted grin. the tension in the air constricted, suffocating all sense of reason. her words were a chilling proclamation, a declaration that innocence or not, death awaited the girl. her lips curved with an unsettling calmness, as if she were narrating a story detached from herself.

"well," she said after a moment, not breaking eye contact with him, "if she's a good kid - then she'll go to heaven, won't she?"

the descent of the axe was a visceral symphony of metal meeting flesh, a gut-wrenching clash that shattered the eerie silence. the brutality of the act was stark, the axe's blade cleaving through bone and flesh with a sickening thud. a fountain of crimson erupted, staining the pavement in a grotesque dance of violence and finality.

the man's screams pierced through the chaos like a knife, but they were mere echoes against the backdrop of chaos. kuchel's gaze remained fixated on the scene she had wrought, the girl's life extinguished in an instant. blood and broken fragments painted a macabre tapestry, a morbid mosaic that told the story of her terrible decision.

and then, with a heaviness that matched the weight in her heart, kuchel's attention drifted to the lifeless form of therese a few paces away. the sight of the girl's disembodied face chilled her to the core, a haunting testament to the brutality of her own actions. the revulsion that welled within her was almost too much to bear, and yet, her grip on the axe remained unwavering.

as if driven by an unseen force, her focus shifted once more, this time locking onto the man whose tears and weeping had punctuated the grim symphony. the weight of the axe felt oddly comforting in her hand, its presence a sinister reassurance. her gaze bore into his, the moment pregnant with anticipation.