the {demon} within [levi x erwin // 5 years ago]
Mar 12, 2014 7:57:25 GMT -5
Post by cass on Mar 12, 2014 7:57:25 GMT -5
LEVI HEICHOU
Never once in my entire life had I failed another human being. That was until three days ago. Until three days ago I had never broken I promise I had not intended to keep. I had never ever failed another human being. And the two people I had promised to protect, the two people I had kept by my side and lived for were dead. Killed in the line of duty. And if that wasn’t so ironic I would have laughed. Isabella and Farlan were slaughtered. A mission that had been doomed from the very beginning, of the ten soldiers dispatched to deal with the situation only three had returned and of those three only one had come back unscathed. That was me. And that, to me was the worst punishment of all. Here I sat in the empty dining room of the headquarters not a single damn mark on my skin. I wasn’t dead. I was alive. I was breathing and I had no right to be there.
In the few years since I had been forced to join the ranks of the Capitol’s Peacekeeper’s I had come to learn a number of things. Of those things I had learned only perhaps two or three had changed the way I thought of situations and scenarios. But not one thing had been able to make me waver in my desire to make sure no harm came to the two people I had left to care for. Now there was just me. Not for the first time in my life I was alone. The only thing different about this time is I couldn’t think of one reason why I was still sitting there. Each and every time I had picked myself up from the brink of death I had had an unwavering need to do something. To kill someone, be someone. Now there was nothing. I held no sense of purpose. I’d failed. I’d failed the people I had sworn to protect.
Raising the bottle of vodka (it had taken almost half an hour to drag it out from the depths of that filthy kitchen, for once the sight of so much grime and dirt hadn’t affected me whatsoever, the whole place could rot to its core for all I cared) above my head I look upwards. I was filthy, dirty, in a state of mess that I would normally be ashamed of. The three survivors had returned three days ago and I had not yet taken a bath. I had simply taken my gear off until I was in my undershirt, walked into the bed and laid there. I hadn’t slept, then the next day I got up and found some alcohol. Everyone seemed to stay away from me as though I was some kind of ready to claw his or her head off with one wrong look.
I suppose I was. On the third day I had still yet to change my clothes or bathe. Instead I sat in a kitchen with any bit of alcohol I could find. It was honestly astonishing I had never reached such a low before in my life. I had seen death upon death upon death and I had not blinked. I had killed, slaughtered and murdered and I had not flinched. Part of me couldn’t even understand why this was affecting me so much. I was empty on the inside; shouldn’t someone so hollow feel nothing?
”You two would have been better off not knowing me. Cheers to being friends.” I mumble. The drink tilts, finding its way to my lips and I drain half the bottle in one turn. The burning sensation was so familiar it honestly felt like nothing on my raw throat.
I think some part of me should have been angry with my actions. The infamous Levi Heichou had been broken by two deaths. Wasn’t I supposed to be stronger then this? Wasn’t I supposed to just forget? So much for being cold-hearted. Self-pity it seemed was the route my body had turned me down. I didn’t want that, though, I had always despised people who cried when others died. Granted I was not crying, I hadn’t cried since I was ten years old. But just the idea of feeling grief, pain and misery for death was infuriating. Maybe it was that part of me felt as though I had no right to feel that way, someone so inhuman didn’t deserve emotions like that.
”Stop whining, Levi. Errybody dies. Should know that by now.” Frowning I look at the bottle. Everybody sure as hell did die. I couldn’t have someone be near me for more than a year or so before they were cut out of the picture. Oh woe is me. Ripred I sent like one of those whiny brats in the other room. I had strolled past those sobbing kids, crying when they found out their friend had been killed. I had scowled, but that was hardly fair now was it? I mean look at me, after all. Sitting alone, drinking, that was as close as I was going to get to crying ever.
Sighing heavily I lean back in the chair, hand still clutching the half-empty bottle of vodka. I bring it to my lips and take another sip.
Fuck you, Isabelle for dying. Fuck you, Farlan for getting yourself killed.
And most of all fuck me for not being able to save you both.
I’m… I’m sorry.
In the few years since I had been forced to join the ranks of the Capitol’s Peacekeeper’s I had come to learn a number of things. Of those things I had learned only perhaps two or three had changed the way I thought of situations and scenarios. But not one thing had been able to make me waver in my desire to make sure no harm came to the two people I had left to care for. Now there was just me. Not for the first time in my life I was alone. The only thing different about this time is I couldn’t think of one reason why I was still sitting there. Each and every time I had picked myself up from the brink of death I had had an unwavering need to do something. To kill someone, be someone. Now there was nothing. I held no sense of purpose. I’d failed. I’d failed the people I had sworn to protect.
Raising the bottle of vodka (it had taken almost half an hour to drag it out from the depths of that filthy kitchen, for once the sight of so much grime and dirt hadn’t affected me whatsoever, the whole place could rot to its core for all I cared) above my head I look upwards. I was filthy, dirty, in a state of mess that I would normally be ashamed of. The three survivors had returned three days ago and I had not yet taken a bath. I had simply taken my gear off until I was in my undershirt, walked into the bed and laid there. I hadn’t slept, then the next day I got up and found some alcohol. Everyone seemed to stay away from me as though I was some kind of ready to claw his or her head off with one wrong look.
I suppose I was. On the third day I had still yet to change my clothes or bathe. Instead I sat in a kitchen with any bit of alcohol I could find. It was honestly astonishing I had never reached such a low before in my life. I had seen death upon death upon death and I had not blinked. I had killed, slaughtered and murdered and I had not flinched. Part of me couldn’t even understand why this was affecting me so much. I was empty on the inside; shouldn’t someone so hollow feel nothing?
”You two would have been better off not knowing me. Cheers to being friends.” I mumble. The drink tilts, finding its way to my lips and I drain half the bottle in one turn. The burning sensation was so familiar it honestly felt like nothing on my raw throat.
I think some part of me should have been angry with my actions. The infamous Levi Heichou had been broken by two deaths. Wasn’t I supposed to be stronger then this? Wasn’t I supposed to just forget? So much for being cold-hearted. Self-pity it seemed was the route my body had turned me down. I didn’t want that, though, I had always despised people who cried when others died. Granted I was not crying, I hadn’t cried since I was ten years old. But just the idea of feeling grief, pain and misery for death was infuriating. Maybe it was that part of me felt as though I had no right to feel that way, someone so inhuman didn’t deserve emotions like that.
”Stop whining, Levi. Errybody dies. Should know that by now.” Frowning I look at the bottle. Everybody sure as hell did die. I couldn’t have someone be near me for more than a year or so before they were cut out of the picture. Oh woe is me. Ripred I sent like one of those whiny brats in the other room. I had strolled past those sobbing kids, crying when they found out their friend had been killed. I had scowled, but that was hardly fair now was it? I mean look at me, after all. Sitting alone, drinking, that was as close as I was going to get to crying ever.
Sighing heavily I lean back in the chair, hand still clutching the half-empty bottle of vodka. I bring it to my lips and take another sip.
Fuck you, Isabelle for dying. Fuck you, Farlan for getting yourself killed.
And most of all fuck me for not being able to save you both.
I’m… I’m sorry.
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