❝𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬.❞
The air tasted of iron and dust, the same mix that followed him since that day. [Name] tightened his grip on his blade, knuckles paling beneath the leather gloves. He could still s...
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╭┈•┈ ୨୧ ┈•┈╮
𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐢𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝙴𝚕𝚍𝚑𝚊𝚖.
╰┈•┈୨୧┈•┈╯
⚠️ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɢᴏʀᴇ. ⚠️
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦
Titans were swarming all over the village, towering above every rooftop like twisted giants. Their faces were twisted into horrible, stretched-out grins as they crawled and stumbled around, ripping apart houses like they were made of paper. I could hear the screams of people I'd known my whole life—the baker, the tailor, my neighbors—all of them being snatched up and shoved into those gaping, dripping mouths. The titans tore into the buildings and the people in them, chewing them up in a mess of blood and limbs, like they were some kind of messy, sloppy feast. It was terrifying and disgusting, watching them eat people like they were nothing more than toys.
I looked up in horror as an 8-meter titan lurched towards my own house, its massive hand wrapping around the roof. The walls groaned and splintered as it ripped the roof right off, my mother still inside. She didn't even have the time to scream before the titan hurled the roof, along with her, straight towards the dark line of the forest where even more titans were stumbling out. I didn't run after her. I knew it was too late the second that titan had her. Chasing her would be foolish—stupid, really. It felt like something shattered inside of me in that moment, something big and heavy that would never heal.
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦
ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ᴅᴀʀᴋ ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ - ᴘᴀꜱᴛᴇʟ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ.
I gasped, jolting awake, my heart racing like I'd been running for miles. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the light, and glanced around, feeling a little lost. Somehow, my room was still here, perfectly fine—my bed, my dresser, even the old gun on the wall that hung a bit crookedly, just like always. Everything was quiet. Way too quiet, actually. But then a familiar smell floated up to my room from downstairs. It was stew. It smelled like my mother's cooking, rich and warm. But wasn't she...? I gulped, trying to shake the weird feeling gnawing at the back of my mind.
I sat there on the edge of my bed, letting my legs dangle, the chill of the floor prickling at my feet. I tried to piece together what I just dreamed about, but parts of it were foggy, like they were trying to slip away before I could even remember them. A part of me didn't want to remember, didn't want to think about it at all. But another part of me had to know what was making me feel so scared, what was causing this creepy, icy shiver that ran up and down my spine, like something was lurking just out of sight.
