Master of the Boot's Deadliest Warrior:
Ethan Thomas vs Eren Yeager: Epilogue
Two weeks after the taking of Wall Maria
Eren Yeager stands victorious . . . and defeated.
Yelling as loud as he can, he grabs the ink well off of the desk and throws it against the wall. The bottle shatters and splatters deep, black ink over the wall. The black colour of the ink deeply disturbs him. A lot of things disturb him lately, the shadows at night, the moment of twilight when the sun sinks below the sun but it's not quite dark yet. Unlit closets and under beds at night alarm him to his bones. Even the black sheen of his boots troubles Eren greatly.
The room around him is a mess. This used to be Father Nick's personally study before . . . . well before he turned up dead after sucking on the barrel of a flintlock and pulling the trigger. Investigators have gone over the office with a fine toothed comb, but a little prompting by Mikasa is enough to make him take a look over; since the investigation of the priest's death is rather lacklustre, just enough to warrant suspicion.
Everything was going fine after the death of the mysterious drunk from Metro city and the inexplicable retreat of the cock titan. But these panic attacks have been happening with more and more frequency.
Papers and broken furniture litter the room. The moment those feelings hit him, Eren could no longer control himself. He's tried so hard, but the depression and anxiety drove him to lash out--not with righteous anger but from fear like a cornered animal.
Foaming at the mouth with bulging eyes, Eren grabs an ornate fountain pen by the base of an overturned oak desk and bites down on it. His teeth hurt as the ebony pen cracks, but he really can't stand the colour of the expensive pen.
Spitting out the pieces, Eren looks around at the destruction he's caused. And then there's Jean Kirchstein. "What is it Eren?" he asks in that tone that's somewhere between a sexual invitation and hostility.
To the artist, did you mean to draw this so horrifying?
On the verge of ripping his hair out, Eren seethes at his squad mate, "Shut up, Jean." Futiley, he starts to smack himself up side the head to stop the malaise. All the muscles on his body feel stiff, he feels like he's caught in tar and the stiffest muscles of all are the ones for smiling.
Then he hears Jean again, sitting in a bloody broken chair with his head cocked at a very, very unnatural angle. "What is it Eren?"
Snapping at his comrade, Eren shouts, "What do you want? Do you want to fuck me? If not, then shut your fucking cake hole." He turns around and desperately starts to scan for a bit of evidence in the office that he himself trashed.
Eren hangs his head while Jean watches him with that vacant smile that rules uncanny valley with an iron fist. Ignoring his creepy "friend" Yeager decides to check out the mantle over the fireplace, somewhere he hasn't utterly destroyed.
There's a bottle of alcohol right there.
"What is it Eren? What're you looking for?" Jean asks, adjusting his neck with a too loud crack. "Shouldn't you be wondering why Levi is dead."
This causes Eren to spin around with rage, "What the hell are you on about? Levi's not dead! He can't be. He's humanity's strongest soldier!."
Jean . . . looks sad. "I'm afraid he is, Eren. Dead by your hand, guided by "them" naturally; along with many others."
Eren chuckles emptily at this statement, "Is that supposed to scare me? "Them?" I'm not afraid of your conspiracy shit, Jean."
Levi's eyes bulge as Eren crushes his larynx with a strong punch
"You're crazy," Eren insists,
Eren uses his own fingernails to rip hunks of flesh off of Levi's body, blood splattering all over his face
"I would remember if I killed someone,"
Eren lights a cigarette after dismembering Malcom van Horne, a satisfied grin on his face
"I never killed anyone," Eren says aloud. Jean is gone now, suddenly as he came. He's well and truly alone, and he has been since he got to this office.
But of course he never killed anyone. He also, especially didn't kill Jean. He definitely didn't grab the back of Jean's hair and snap his neck like a twig. Nor did he throw Jean's cold body into a shallow ditch, eyes staring at him accusingly. No that's all just a bad dream and Jean was just in the room with him spinning about crazy conspiracy theories.
Eren then notices the bottle of wine on the mantle. He smiles out of desperation and the hope of relief. All these grisly flashbacks are naught but battle stress. He never killed anyone. He just needs a drink . . .
Those eyes . . .
Mikasa Ackerman stands before her superior officer, Zoe Hanji. The bespectacled women looks at Mikasa with a sideways grin that shouted out loud "mad genius."
The junior member of the scouting corps spoke to the mad woman in the darkest and deepest cellar of Castle Utgart, in the same room where Eren received a dire warning from the Cypher.
For once, the normally taciturn Asian girl is torn by indecision. She keeps looking at Zoe Hanji, but something always stops her. Some inner intuition tells her that the mad scientist Zoe Hanji is only the tip of the ice berg of what is really a very dangerous woman.
"Eren, Armin and I have been investigating the last Titan attack. We've searched for Titan shifters but after the cop from Metro city . . . I feel something is deeply and terribly wrong."
Hanji laughs in a way that is overbearing and braying like a female hyena. "Be specific, Mikasa-kun. Wrong is defined as something out of order, something morally wrong and out of place." Zoe cocks her head and in the flickering light of the fluorescent bulb her eyeglasses take on a horrific sheen. From behind pure white windows of light, she pierces Mikasa with a perception so piercing that it sees through flesh, blood and lies. "Tell me, what is wrong, Mikasa-Kun?"
Mikasa responds coolly to Hanji. "Father Nick was murdered. There's corruption among the Nobles and more to the Titans than we ever dreamed of," she falters but continues, "But that's nothing, nothing compared to other things. Eren should never have fought the man from Metro City. There's . . . there's no metro city, no shotguns or locusts. None of that should be real."
A few seconds pass and Hanji lowers her gaze at Mikasa. A smirk of motherly admiration comes across her features. "Now that, is exactly why you were meant for better things, Mikasa-Kun." The mad genius of the Scouting corps speaks to the girl, "I know you only want Eren's safety. So in the name of that, I think you and me should step into my office."
This causes Mikasa to narrow her eyes, "What are you asking of me?"
Hanji shatters the tension by laughing once more, "Well Mikasa, all will be answered in my office! And what's more, we can protect Eren. And by "we" I really mean the Reebs corporation; a subsidiary of Fegelcorp."
"Fegelcorp?" like Metro city, this is another thing which Mikasa knows shouldn't exist. However the mention of the name Fegelcorp makes her feel both fear and the odd anticipation that antics are going to go down.
Hanji flashes a winning grin. "Come on, Mikasa-Kun. I promise that we will keep Eren safe. And furthermore," her grin turns malevolent, "I will never ask you to trust me."
"But what about Armin?"
At this, Hanji's manic grins turns to a small smirk, "Don't worry about him, I've got my son watching over him."
Footsteps ring through the wooden attic in the shattered remnants of Eren Yeager's old house. despise significant titan damage, the attic is mostly infant, along with all the furniture. It is here that "Armin" walks over to a big wooden trunk with flies buzzing around it.
Opening the trunk, Randall Flagg, disguised as Armin Arlert opens to reveal the real Armin; locked inside this trunk for way too long.
"Whoa, Armin, man; you really need to take a shower."
Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap
Dead for weeks, Armin has nothing to say to flagg. His glazed eyes and rictus expression still can tell the story of his last few agonizing moments. By some quirk of gravity, Armin's left eyeball rolls out of his skull with a sticky noise.
Smirking, Flagg leans against the side of the trunk and talks to the corpse. "You know, Mikasa, I really like her. I mean, she's really good at what she does. Eren is already crazy but I think that Mikasa would need real work to go insane."
He nods as he pretends that Armin's corpse is talking to him.
"Yeah, I know! For sure! oh, and before I go any further, I'm kinda sorry for cutting off your dick and choking you to death with it. Technically I didn't have a reason to kill you, but when you said that the world was cruel; that really made me lose it."
Flagg laughs, "I mean, 'The World is cruel.' Come on, Armin," he starts to get angry, "The world isn't cruel. It's so much worse than just cruel."
He flashes a psychopathic grin with Armin's stolen features. "So in a way, I guess it's your fault. You were just asking for this."
He turns around and slams the trunk shut, "Oh well, better get back to work for the master. Oh, I'm coming for you Anthony, I'm coming for you. Nobody fucks with me, not even you, Tony."
The King laughs as he sits with Dot Pixis, leader of the Garrison. The former is a balding, fat, decadent hedonist with no morals while the other is a carbon copy of a Japanese general from the second world war.
No I didn't invade China, why do you ask?
"Bah-hah! And then Winston Churchill and I ate the entire can of frosting together," the obese monarch laughs.
Dot Pixis rolls his eyes and tries to avoid smacking the fat shit, "Thrillin sire, surely."
The King laughs and chokes a bit on a pastry before continuing to stuff his face, "And then he told those damn starving orphans that socialism is the envy and misery of the poor."
Dot Pixis nods again, "Surely, sire,"
The King gulps down down like a bad parody of Dinyus, "As you can see, in our Kingdom we've survived this long by holding down the freeloaders and moochers; all of those refugees from the outer wall were just expiating a handout. Bums only want cream in their coffee and bread on their plate, well they must earn it! Bwa-ahaha-ACK!!!!" The King began to choke on his wine and pastry, causing him to spit a mix of saliva, booze and chewed cake all over his chin.
the balding General Pixis signs and wonders when Erwin Smith's plan to overthrow the man will kick in.
Then he kicks in.
SMASH!!!!!!
The door to the royal meeting doom explodes into splinters and a flying beetle the size of a crow buzzes into the room. Dot reaches for his flintlock but before he can grab the weapon, the razor bug slices open his throat.
the King is once more stained, but this time with hot blood rather than cool wine. Spitting out his cake, the King calls for his guards when a mutated alien serpent flies through the air like a spear and harpoons the obese King.
the King screams in agony as he's throw backwards and pinned to the marble of the conference room. Into the room like a walking nightmare is the alien Nom Anor, now shedding his human disguise. His very appearance makes the King shake and gibber in fear; his scarred visage and oft broken nose looks like shredded meat labelled unfit for human consumption.
"You!" Anor points an accusing Talon at the King and leaps across the room like a velicoraptor. The King cannot speak for Nom has wrapped said claw around his throat, "You betrayed me!"
The King's eyes bulge and his features go white as a sheet, "I-I-I-I-
"Enough!" Anor shrieks, his features horribly burned from the viagra factory fire. "You hired me to take Eren Yeager alive. Yet no sooner did I do that than the burning titan attacked! You assured me you controlled the titans, you assured me that the recon corps would not interfere! You have three seconds to explain."
The King chokes, his airway opened just enough for him to speak, "You were sent to capture Yeager, but allied forces have him under control. You were no longer necessary."
Anor hisses through his crocodile teeth, "So you threw me away? Why? And if I don't like your answer I'll tear you limb from limb!"
"The Titans . . . "the King trails off.
Anor growls, "I don't care about the Titans."
The King gurgles but manages to get his words out, "The Titans were created to produce energy, to filter energy, meant to create infinite power from the finite energy and mass of human bodies. They were meant to be . . . protectors."
For the first time, the soft, fleshy monarch meets Nom Anor's inhuman gaze, "The Titans protected us from you. . . from--."
A harsh talon slashes across the King's face and across his eyes. Anor does not like the King's answer. "Enough of your meaningless babble! I will let you live if you tell me what's so important about Eren Yeager, so that I can take advantage of him for my own damn gain."
The King is starting to turn blue, "He is the . . . coordinate. . . a failsafe . . . if the Titans fail . . . then he . . ."
Suddenly, the entire palace rumbles and Nom Anor spins around. His slitted eyes narrow at the sound of what seems like an earthquake, when all of the sudden his eyes widen as he hears music star to play.
Happy Caliope music plays and Nom Anor spins around to see the King gone. The Amphistaff, the mutant alien snake leaves the marble wall and climbs up to his hand. Confused, the Yuuzhan-Vong spy spins around when a disembodied voice speaks to him.
"Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain! The great Oz has spoken."
"Who the hell are you?" Anor demands.
The voice laughs, "That will be revealed! But first: a warning to the old, the young, and the faint of heart!."
Anor sneers at the mocking voice.
"It only gets more fantastic, more amazing, more--dare I say it--fucked up than ever before!!!"
The voice laughs and bids adieu, "See you soon, Nom Anor, you and all the deadliest Warriors!"
Everything goes dark, and the last thing the audience sees before the fade out is two glowing eyes.
