In the Shadows of the Past | Levi Ackerman

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I'm now fifteen and a half, I made a decision that would change the course of my life forever. I resolved to join the Training Corps, to enlist in the ranks of those who ventured beyond the Walls in search of freedom and fight Titans. But my reasons were not solely driven by a desire to explore the outside world; no, there was a darker motive lurking beneath the surface-a desire for vengeance, for justice.

For years, I had endured the torment inflicted upon me by my stepfather, a man who reveled in his power, who saw fit to mold me into a weapon of his own making. He taught me to fight, to kill, to survive in a world where strength was the only currency that mattered. But I was not grateful for his lessons, for his cruelty. No, I despised him for the pain he had inflicted upon me, for the life he had stolen from me.

I still remember the day he took my mother from me, the day he snuffed out the light in her eyes with his own hands. His excuse was as callous as it was absurd-he claimed he was doing her a favor, freeing her from the shackles of her illness. But I knew the truth, knew that he had killed her to silence her cries, to punish me for the crime of being late, for being weak.

And so,I made my plans, honed my skills, prepared myself for the moment when I would finally take my revenge. I waited until nightfall, until he was drunk and vulnerable, before I made my move.

Creeping down the stairs with the stealth of a shadow, I approached him silently, my heart pounding in my chest, my hands trembling with anticipation. In one hand, I held a knife-a weapon that felt too heavy, a weapon i got used to. In the other, I held my resolve, my determination to see this through to the end.

And then, just as I raised the knife above my head, ready to strike the final blow, his eyes opened, his gaze meeting mine with a clarity that cut through the haze of my anger and fear. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the space between us, as we stared at each other, two adversaries locked in a deadly dance.

But then, without a word, without a sound, he closed his eyes once more, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. And in that moment, I realized that I could not bring myself to do it, could not become the monster he had tried to make me. For in the end, it was not his life I sought to take, but my own freedom, my own redemption.

With a heavy heart and a weary soul, I lowered the knife, letting it clatter to the floor as I turned to walk away.

I felt him lunged toward me with the beer bottle raised high,I acted on instinct his strike never coming.Reacting swiftly, I rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the deadly blow as the bottle shattered against the floor, sending glass shards flying in all directions.

Before I could fully regain my footing, he closed the distance between us, his movements fluid and precise. His hand shot out, aiming for my collarbone with the jagged edge of the broken glass. I barely had time to react, raising my arm in a desperate attempt to deflect the blow.

The glass connected with a sickening crunch, sending a searing pain shooting through my arm and collarbone. I gritted my teeth against the agony, refusing to let it slow me down. Adrenaline surged through my veins, fueling my resolve as I fought to stay on my feet.

With a primal roar, I launched myself at him, my fists flying in a blur of motion. He countered each blow with calculated precision, his strength and size giving him the upper hand. But I refused to back down, drawing upon every ounce of training and determination I possessed.

As he swung a meaty fist in my direction, I ducked and weaved, narrowly avoiding his powerful blows. With each movement, I felt a surge of energy coursing through me, driving me forward with a newfound determination

I dodged and parried, dancing around him with the agility of a seasoned warrior. Each strike I landed fueled my resolve, pushing me to fight harder, to fight until the bitter end.