Attack on Titan / Interactive Story

92

"Let's go, Ballard."

Blake Schmitt with a gun was a scary sight and it was possible the lady actually didn't pay her tax. You didn't want to hang around, find out and get hurt.

You tried grabbing Ballard's sleeve and pulling him out of the house without outcome.

"No."

Ballard attempted once again to steal the gun from Schmitt's hands, only for the boy to slam the butt of the rifle against the woman's head in a rage.

"Fuck off, Jesperson! What do you not understand about 'fuck off'?!"

The woman was sprawled across the floor, her head bashed in on the side. There was a slim possibility of her being alive, but you held onto that hope like it was the last thing you needed to keep yourself afloat.

Blake Schmitt began rummaging through the woman's belongings, looking for any cash or anything of worth. Ballard ran forward and punched Blake straight across the face, the gun flying out of the boy's arms. The punch was something almost fictional, something full of force and power; it was almost frightening.

Schmitt got to his feet and ran for a corner, grabbing any sort of plates and tableware to throw. Blake's nose and lip were damaged so much that the blood didn't seem to stop running down his chin.

"Get the hell away!"

Ballard dodged a flying fork and lunged for Schmitt, grabbing the boy's shirt collar. You shuffled for the lonesome rifle and pulled it close to your chest. Ballard chucked Blake into the floor, possibly breaking the floorboards under his body.

"Y/N, go get someone."

"W-who?"

Ballard turned to look at you. He looked fine, everything except little bruises where tableware could have hit him. He opened his mouth but was cut off when Blake threw a punch to the side of his head.

Blake scrambled for the gun in your arms. His body was limp and beaten, worn from Ballard's blows, but Schmitt was determined to grab his gun and vacate. You kicked, holding onto the shotgun with all the strength in your arms. There was no way in hell that you were going to let him get away with harassing and killing a citizen.

"Give me the fucking gun, L/N."

He's punching you - correction, beating the snot out of you. In the midst of it all, you position the barrel so it faces the bottom of Schmitt's leg. You continued kicking, using every part of your body to get his off of yours. You didn't want to do it, but there's a point where your brain just buzzes too quickly and the pain in your legs makes your body want to give. Eventually, the chaos has to end - and you'll do anything to stop it.

You pull the trigger.

Run (Chapter 96)