Ackerman- ERERI FANFICTION

Chapter 1: Levi Ackerman

A dark figure trudges warily down a smoggy road. His dirty blonde hair packed with grease and his boots splashing in the mucky puddles. Splashing against his dark jeans.

"Never before have I felt this so strongly..." he thinks alloud. Muttering to himself. "So fucking strong it makes me want to scream. This burning hatred.
This deep angry desire for blood. I remember the beautiful, satisfying crack of a baby birds neck when I used to snap them as a kid. First they would struggle. Peck me. Try to escape. In a click it was as still as the quiet. Adian. Stupid stupid man. He'll regret this. He'll regret breaking up with me!"

The mans face twists, suddenly contrasting his dark looming eyes against his clammy pale skin. He seizes a bin by its plastic sides. Launching it into the air with a mightly grunt of power. The bins angry crash sends a hurricane of papers fluttering to the ground.

"... Revenge..." he whispers his craving with a lick of his dry lips.

~~~~~~

"LEVI!" the short ravenettes name is screamed by a strong voice.

Erwin smith. The chief of the police station. Levi is his top filed detective in the SPD (Shiganshina Police Department).

"Cheif?" Levi stands up and Erwin nods his head and bulky, chisled jaw.

Levi. A smaller yet by no measure smaller man with dark hair and dark eyes and a constantly stoic expression sips his coffee cup full of tea, holding the cup by the rim.

"Listen. We have a new case. A murder."

Levi perks up instantly. "I accept, Cheif.  I'll solve it." Levi snatches the paper and walks past Erwin.

"It wouldn't hurt you to be less rude from time to time. " Erwin mutters and walks away. Everyone knows that Levi can't be bent. He's always composed. He's brilliant. Has an amazing mind. Amazing! However his weaknesses lay in his people skills. He's always been the snappy, Short, Independant and a little strange type. His addiction to cleaning and his facination with mystery and murder got him strange looks and a stay-away-from-that reputation in highschool.

That's right. Even as the small child, Levi Ackerman was never weak. His uncle taught him from a young age. The weak will be lost. The strong are the only ones that deserve to live.

Kenny Ackerman was a famous police officer. He was thrown in jail for the murder of criminals.

He called it justice.

Levi looked up to his uncle. But there's a line and he knows it.

Now he has his hair parted in its usual way. His reading glasses sit on his nose and his dark grey blue eyes skim carefully over the case.

"Necks snapped..." he mutters through his lips.

He chews on the bottom of his lip then runs over to his desk where he skims over a few things. He then slips on a jacket and walks to the door.

"I'm going to the crime scene for this case, Armin, " he passes to the Secretary as he slips out the door, his black dress shoes walking quickly down the city stone path.

In a hurry he gets into his work car. And speeds away

❔~❓~❔~❓~❔~❓~❔

The sprawled out Body, head twisted around in a grotesque manner. Movement, none. Just a lifeless body, not yet rotted. Freshly killed and the last look it ever had stuck in place.

Levi crouches down below the body, humming in thought.

Bruised marks around the neck, where the victim had it snapped. Skin pale, but not completely drained. Dead for just over 24 hours, Levi observes. Victim in his late twenties, red haired, a four leaf clover on his left wrist, presumably irish. Levi takes in all these things, his mind working like a machine.