The walls, massive structures built to contain what remained of humanity form the terrors that lurked beyond, the terrors of the Titan's, humanoid monsters the size of buildings with an insatiable appetite for human flesh. For centuries, the people lived in peace behind these walls, growing comfortable, complacent, greedy. Food and resources became finite, commodities that the rich held over the poor, many forced to go to the extremes to survive, and thus, it was not an uncommon sight to the passersby as a young rag clothed boy sprinted between the market stalls, bread clutched tightly between his fingertips.
"Shit, just leave me the hell alone!" the boy yelled, ducking under a market stall. The pounding of feet echoing upon his heels, a voice barking out after vaulting over the obstacles in his path as the thief ducked into an alley. "Get back here, you little street rat!"
Refusing to comply, the child swiftly slid behind a few old crates, tucking himself behind them as the Military police member ran past and disappearing down the alley's bend. Letting out a drawn-out sigh upon wedging himself free, the young boy looked down at the stolen bread in his hands. A growl promptly erupted from his stomach as he looked down over its warm brown exterior, licking over his chapped lips.
"Yeah, well, I'm a good street rat." He muttered, before scarfing down the bread in a matter of seconds before he sat back against the alley's stone wall. Between the market raids, there always seemed to be too little time to rest, always on the move, even if his stomach pleaded with another hefty growl.
"Of course, way to go Mathew, not even enough to fill you up...typical." He grumbled, stumbling up from his spot on the ground and began the trek back 'home'. Moving between the alleys and avoiding the main streets as much as possible, Mathew stumbled past many a sly glance from passerby's after being forced to cross the main road. The boy pausing only upon spotting a small wanted poster of himself, plastered against the side of a building. Frowning a bit, Mathew yanked it off the wall, crumbled the paper into a ball, stuffing it into his pocket as he walked behind a dead-end alley, walking into his ragtag housing. To call it housing however, were pushing what one would consider a home to the limits, considering of only old crates stacked on top of one another with a torn cloth tarp acting as a roof. A small half-assed fire pit lay a couple of feet from it.
Walking over, Mathew pulled the crumpled paper from his pocket and threw it into the pit, steering up some embers as it landed, singeing the exposed edges of the yellowed paper. "Home sweet home." Mathew whispered, moved the tarp aside as he settled down in a pile of old blankets. Looking up through the holes in the cloth, he could see the sun's rays start to paint the alley's walls in shades of orange and yellow as the sun slowly set.
"Guess I'll go looking for breakfast in the morning." He said, curling up in one of the blankets, his stomach pleading with him once more, like almost every night since he escaped the servitude he was sold into. The sunlight fading into night as the cold sank in, turning slumber into uneasy tossing, yearning for warmth that would never come.
Though when Mathew awoke, unlike the numerous times of a rat or something skittering around, attempting to shelter itself like him, the boy felt a firm hand grab ahold of his ankle. Letting loose a startled yelp, he was dragged out of his shelter and roughly held above the cobbled ground.
Recovering slowly as the sleep fogging his mind, Mathew barely could take in the world around him, till ice ran through his veins. Casted in the low light of a lantern, was the uniform of the Military police upon the man that held him.
"Finally caught you street ra- Gah!" Kicking him square in the jaw, Mathew landed with a solid smack against the ground, the boy wasting no in scrambling to his feet, sprinting down the alley, dodging a swipe from one holding the lantern. Though the disturbance only bought a little time for Mathew as the two men started sprinting after him. Desperately looking around, Mathew old crates stacked in his path, he quickly through them aside, crashing them down on his pursuers, before bolting once more, refusing to even look back as he darted into the depths of the first beyond his town.
YOU ARE READING
Attack on Titanfall
AzioneMathew was your normal street rat, abandoned by his parents at the age of six, he grew up learning the ways of thievery as a means if struggling to get by. Though when one day, finally caught and merely escaping a chase by the military police. He st...