Attack on Titan / Interactive Story

101

The days became a blur of fast movement. Ballard ran out of money and the idea of heading back to his place was too much of risk, even Ballard feared dragging his family's fraud into it. One wrong move, Schmitt would rain hell on the guy's family.

The news spread quickly. You both ditched your Military Police jackets way back. It was a sad sight, throwing them away. You had worked so hard to get where you were, only to witness them being chucked down into a dumpster next to an old bar. If you ever grew to yearn your jacket back, all you had to do was dodge a couple bullets, make your way up town and go dumpster-diving behind the wee old Marigold. Easy-peasy.

The weather seemed to grow dreary. Every day of not turning yourselves in turned into another day of jail - possibly even another reason to hang you at the gallows.

"This will have to do."

You felt like you heard those words from Ballard's lips a hundred times before. A rotten mattress on a beat up, wooden floor would 'have to do'. It was an old house: fairly large for its age, all one story. It wasn't out in a random village, but more near the edge of a low town that few knew the name of. You searched the house while Ballard sat down at an old table, pulling a small writing utensil out from his pocket. Ballard had already scanned the area for any previous visitors and was worn out from the walk, so you felt it best to leave him be.

You heard him scribble things down on a letter through the thin walls. He had wrote many, all to Winona, only to dispose of them before you moved to a new place to stay the night.

A small, dark room was where the bathroom probably used to lay. You walked through the hall to find the bedroom with the lonely mattress, shoved to the side of the large room. The floorboards creaked under all the steps you took. You made your way back to the room where Ballard sat, keeping close to the walls. An old kitchen lined it, cupboards and counters decorated it,  dirty and broken plates filling their spaces.

"You should sleep, Y/N."

There wasn't much else to do. You stepped through the dusty hall, entering the bedroom. You took off your shoes and tried not to imagine how old the mattress was as you laid down on it, staring up at the ceiling. Ballard enters to look through the window and scan the room with his lantern. He begins to leave to go guard the door - a habit he formed.

Ask Him to Stay (Chapter 102)
Be Silent (Chapter 103)