Bloodbath

By Monica Stephenson

Reiner Braun sat in the back of a dull, gray classroom as his professor, Erwin Smith, lectured in an animated voice that should have made the history lesson interesting, but the faces of the students were as blank as the walls. Reiner was paying attention as much as them; he was busy looking at the back of the tall, olive-skinned, dark-haired Bertholdt Fubar—the boy who was Reiner's best friend. The boy who had lately been causing his face to flush and pulse to quicken. Prom was approaching, pressuring Reiner to ask Bertholdt as soon as possible. But every time he tried, he panicked. The words would stick in his throat, preventing any sound from escaping. There was no way Reiner could ask him…no way he'd accept…he'd just ask Bertholdt out another time. Prom wasn't a big deal, right?

No. It was now or never. And Reiner was not one to back down. He opened his history notebook, tore out a blank page, and scrawled the words "Bertl—will you go to prom with me?" Sure, it wasn't glamorous, but neither was Reiner. He crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it at Bertholdt before he could second-guess himself.

The paper ball hit the back of Bertholdt's head. Reiner leaned back in his chair, trying to play it cool as Bertholdt reached for the paper. Before he could open it, Professor Smith appeared in front of his desk.

"Note passing is not permitted in this classroom," the professor said, raising a caterpillar-like eyebrow. "You know the rules, Bertholdt." Everyone knew the rule—anyone caught passing notes would have them read aloud by Professor Smith.

Damn it, thought Reiner. This isn't in the plan! He looked around. All of his peers were now focused on the professor, eager to hear what was written in the note.

There was no way Bertholdt was going to hear the news from Erwin Smith. Reiner swore under his breath and stood up. All heads swiveled around in his direction. "I'll tell you what the note says," he declared. "Bertl—will you go to prom with me?"

They were out. The words he had been wanting to say for forever. Time slowed. The room was silent, waiting for Bertholdt's reply. After an eternity, Reiner heard it—an angel's voice saying, "I'd love to go with you." Everyone clapped and cheered and Reiner Braun couldn't stop grinning like the lovesick idiot he was.

Bertholdt went home to study with Reiner after school that day, as he often did. They sat in Reiner's room, textbooks and note pages spread out across the floor.

After a few minutes of quizzing each other, Reiner said, "I didn't mean to make a big deal about, you know, asking you. I hope you don't mind." Reiner ran a hand through his close-cropped blonde hair and looked at Bertholdt.

"Of course I don't mind. I liked it. It proves you're not afraid to show that you're my man." He grinned and playfully punched Reiner's arm. Bertholdt dodged under Reiner's retaliating fist and quickly kissed him on the cheek. Reiner froze, his brain taking a few seconds to process what had just happened. To keep himself from doing something unthinkable like giggling, he leaned over to return Bertholdt's kiss. Right before he did, Bertholdt turned his head and met Reiner's lips with his own. Bertholdt's lips were soft and tasted minty. Reiner felt him grin smugly before parting his lips. He brought his hand up to Bertholdt's face and pulled him closer.

They were interrupted by the obnoxious text tone coming from Reiner's phone. Reiner sighed as they broke apart and looked down at his phone. He had one text notification from Annie Leonhart, a fellow senior at Rose High School.

From: Annie

Turn on the news.

Reiner stood and turned on the TV on his desk. He grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels until he came across the news. The news anchor, a small, ginger woman named Petra Ral, was reading a report.

"The Titans have attacked again. These unknown members of a worldwide serial killing group committed two murders last night. The victims were both found in an alleyway with the emblematic words 'Fear the Titans' spray painted on the wall next to them. Police have gotten no further in discovering who these 'Titans' are or where they came from." Petra went on to talk about the Titans' past crimes, information that had already been televised before. Reiner looked over at Bertholdt, who had picked up a can of spray paint lying on the floor and was fiddling with it. He looked at Reiner and grinned. "We made the news again."

Reiner and Bertholdt had been recruited at a young age. Living in a busy city where people mysteriously died every day, with parents who were never home, it was not difficult for a pair of sadistic children to commit a murder. The man had been a stranger. They had had nothing against him. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Titans had found them not long afterwards. Reiner and Bertholdt were now well practiced in the art of murder. Nobody even suspected them.

A few weeks later, Bertholdt stood in front of his mirror, getting ready for prom. It was strange how a young man who murdered people in cold blood could be nervous about something as trivial as a school dance, Bertholdt thought as he straightened his bowtie and combed his fingers through his thick black hair. "Funny," he said to himself. "On the outside, I look like any other guy who's going to prom." Anyone who looked at him would not see the gun hidden in his waistband or the knives in his suit jacket. He and Reiner would be adding some fun to the Rose High School prom. Bertholdt almost started laughing. These kids wouldn't know what hit them.

Bertholdt jumped as he heard a loud knock on the apartment door. He walked out of the bathroom and down a short hallway to the door. He took a deep breath and opened it. Reiner was wearing the typical black tux and white button-up shirt, as was Bertholdt, but wow. Reiner looked incredibly sexy. Black was definitely his color. "You look really hot in that suit," Bertholdt blurted. His face flushed red, but Reiner pretended not to notice. He just winked and over-dramatically extended his arm to Bertholdt.

Reiner and Bertholdt arrived at the dance after eating at a moderately fancy restaurant. The parking lot was full of cars, but Reiner didn't have much difficulty parking his battered Jeep.

As they walked into the school's gym, Reiner spotted Annie with Armin Arlert, a short, long-haired blonde boy. Annie caught Reiner's eye and smiled in a way that told Reiner she was thinking about what was to come.

After half an hour of energetic pop and rap songs, a slow song finally began playing. Bertholdt held out his hand and said, "Dance with me?"

He beat me to it, thought Reiner, taking Bertholdt's hand. For a few moments they just danced slowly, saying nothing. Reiner looked around at the other dancing couples, the people who knew him and called him their friend. Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman. Jean Kirchstein and Marco Bodt. Connie Springer and Sasha Braus. Krista Lenz and Ymir. He even saw the prom supervisors, Professor Erwin and his fiancé, Levi Ackerman, dancing together. They would all be dead before the night was over, by the hands of those they trusted.

"It was always strangers before tonight," Bertholdt said softly.

"Are you afraid?" Reiner asked. He couldn't have Bertholdt back down. They had planned this together.

"No." After a moment's silence, Bertholdt gave a reply that would have chilled a normal person's bones. "I'm excited."

"Good. All we have to do for now is wait for Annie's signal."

It wasn't long before they heard the deafening sound of a gunshot, followed by terrified screams. Everyone began panicking and rushing toward the exit.

"Idiots," growled Reiner. "They should know we'd bolt the doors." He calmly pulled a gun from his waistband, spun around, and shot the first person he saw. A thrill of excitement shot through him as the bullet went through the heart of a boy named Franz. He was dead before he hit the floor. His girlfriend, Hanna, screamed and, in a panicked state, began trying to resuscitate him. "Why…why isn't Franz breathing?" She looked at Reiner in desperation. Her tear-filled eyes widened in horror when she saw the gun. Reiner simply smiled as he shot her straight in the head.

Supervising the prom was supposed to be a simple task. Make sure the kids stay sober and dance as appropriately as possible. Not keep the kids from dying.

Erwin turned to Levi. "Our job is to protect these kids. We're going to stop the shooters and save as many lives as possible."

Levi trained his gray eyes on him, completely devoid of fear. "I know." He gave Erwin the small smile he had fallen in love with. God, this was supposed to be a night where they could just spend time with each other. All of this wasn't supposed to happen.

"Be safe," Erwin said, leaning down to pull the short man into a kiss.

"You too. I love you," Levi said. And just like that, he was gone.

Levi ran toward one of the sources of the sounds of shooting. As far as he could tell, there were only three of them.

And then he saw her. A girl of average height with blonde hair, mercilessly shooting the students around her. She turned and pointed her gun toward a boy near Levi.

"Annie!" the kid shouted. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Stop messing around! We're your friends!"

"Eren," the girl said, shaking her head.

Before Levi knew what he was doing, he pushed the kid—Eren—out of the way. But he wasn't fast enough to save himself. He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach with a fist made out of metal. "Shit," he muttered as he looked at the blood pouring out of his chest. Still, he tried to stand. He had to stop this girl. This maniac. Levi walked toward Annie, pressing hard against his wound. "Lower your gun," he said. "Or I'll shoot you." He reached inside his jacket, praying a bluff would give him an opportunity to get close enough to knock the gun out of her hand.

Annie laughed. "I know a liar when I see one."

Bang. Levi fell to the ground again. Bang. It was too much. "I'm sorry, Erwin," he whispered. Bang.

Bodies were falling all around Jean Kirchstein. Some died almost instantly. Others lay in their own blood, crying, calling out for their loved ones, or begging for the pain to end. Jean felt sick. These were his classmates, his friends. Before today, they had had futures. Sasha had been training to be a professional cook. Eren and Mikasa had been planning to join the military. God, Eren had been such an asshole. But he had been so full of life. Now he was lying on the ground, blood pouring out of the wound in his head.

Jean was running around with Marco, panicked as everyone else. He suddenly stopped, forcing Marco to stop as well.

"Jean?" Marco said. Thank God he didn't ask if he was okay. He knew he was as okay as every other soul in this room. The souls whose numbers were quickly decreasing.

"Marco," Jean said, looking into his boyfriend's freckled face and soft brown eyes. "There's no escape. We're going to die here."

Marco only nodded. "Death is inevitable anyway."

Jean covered his face with one hand, the other still holding Marco's. "I'm sorry." His whisper could barely be heard over the screams. "If I hadn't asked you to prom, we'd have out whole lives before us. Hell, we could've gotten married after we graduated. We could've spent our lives together." He laughed through the tears now pouring out onto his hand. "If you'd marry a loser like me."

Marco gently pulled his hand from his face and wiped away his tears. He lifted Jean's chin so their eyes could meet and said, "Jean Kirchstein, I will gladly spend the rest of my life with you."

Jean looked at Marco's face, adorable and smiling, the only thing keeping Jean calm amidst this chaos. Then his eyes widened and mouth opened in surprise. He crumpled to the ground. Blood trickled out of his mouth.

Jean's legs failed to support him. He fell to his knees next to Marco. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Jean pulled Marco into his arms, tears spilling down his face onto Marco's. "Marco," he cried. "Marco, don't go. Stay with me, please." Jean touched his still face, begging him to come back to life, even though it was impossible. His brown eyes, so warm and happy not long ago, stared blankly, lifelessly. Jean gently closed them shut, hand trembling. He kissed Marco's forehead and whispered, "See you soon."

"Alright. If that's what you want."

Jean's head snapped up. Bertholdt was standing in front of him, gun in hand. Jean's disbelief quickly turned to anger. "It was you," he said. "You killed Marco…and everyone else…You son of a bitch! You're going to pay for this!" Filled with rage, Jean found the strength to stand. Despite the gun aimed at his head, Jean began advancing toward Bertholdt.

Bertholdt just sighed and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. Out of bullets, thought Bertholdt. He tossed the gun aside. Jean took the opportunity to punch him in the face. Caught off guard, Bertholdt staggered backwards, almost falling. By the time Jean had drawn his arm back for another punch, Bertholdt had taken out his knife and slid it across Jean's throat. Jean died choking on his own blood and clutching his throat, as if that could possibly save him.

Erwin looked at the bodies of the children around him. He had failed every one of them. Some were his students. He had spoken to them all a few hours before.

Then, he saw a body that made his heart stop. He was the size of many of the students around him, but Erwin could recognize his dark hair and undercut anywhere. His head started spinning. He stumbled toward the body, falling forward next to it. "Levi," he choked. "Levi, no. God, no." Shaking, he pulled Levi's body close to him. "You're covered in blood," he whispered. "You hate being filthy, you clean freak." Erwin took the cravat Levi was wearing and started trying to wipe the blood off of him. "We were supposed to get married. You weren't supposed to die, you idiot." Sobbing, Erwin clutched the body of the only man he ever loved. He never felt the gun pressed to the back of his head.

Annie watched Erwin fall, bent over the man she had killed earlier. "Sentiment," she said in disgust. She turned as she heard footsteps behind her and came face-to-face with Armin. She saw the hurt and betrayal written all over his face. "Annie," he croaked. "Why are you doing this? You were a good person!"

"Titans are not good people, Armin," she said softly. With another pull of the trigger, another bullet was fired, another person was hit, another body fell.

Finally, the last person was killed. Reiner wiped the blood off of his knife and stepped over the body. Blood soaked Reiner's shoes, dampening his socks. Annie and Bertholdt joined him as he walked toward the dull white wall of the gym. "Wasn't prom fun?" he asked Bertholdt, taking his hand. Reiner knelt down and dipped his hand in a pool of blood. With it, he wrote the trademark words.

Fear the Titans.