Chapter VI: The Beast

---

Blood. On my face, my clothes. I can taste it, thick and coppery on my tongue.

Screams echo in my ears, distant and distorted, like I'm underwater.

"Please, stop!" a voice begs, broken and desperate.

Is it mine?

I can't tell anymore.

The world tilts, spins, dissolves into a red haze of fury and pain and--

---

16 hours earlier

"Anja? Anja!"

Marco's voice jolted her back to the present. She blinked, her eyes refocusing on the fluffy white clouds drifting lazily across the sky. She'd been lost in thought, her mind a million miles away from the sunny day and the training mission ahead.

The rest of her squad was gathered around, checking their gear and supplies. Marco stood in front of her, his honest face etched with a hint of concern. "All set? We're heading out soon."

Anja simply nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Ready when you are."

Thomas sidled up, a mischievous grin on his face. "Aww, is someone feeling down because she didn't get paired with her girlfriend for this mission?"

Anja rolled her eyes, shoving him playfully. "Har har. You're just jealous because Annie can kick your ass six ways to Sunday without breaking a sweat."

Thomas clutched his chest in mock hurt. "You wound me. And here I thought we had something special."

Anja snorted, hoisting her heavy backpack onto her shoulders. The motion made her wince slightly, her bruised and battered hands protesting the strain. The price of going toe-to-toe with Annie day after day, pushing herself to the brink and then some.

She flexed her fingers, feeling a satisfying crack. "In your dreams, Wagner. Now let's get moving before Shadis decides to come out here and kick all our asses."

The others murmured in agreement, shouldering their own packs and checking their ODM gear one last time. They set off into the forest, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead. Anja fell into step beside Marco she watched Thomas pull out a small notebookand pencil from his pocket.

 Anja glanced over at him, taking in his tall, lanky frame and the unruly mop of sandy hair that perpetually fell into his warm brown eyes.

"Alright, let's see." he began, flipping open the notebook with a flourish. "Mission log, day one: Squad Leader Marco Bodt, with Cadets Sasha Braus, Mina Carolina, Anja Wolf, and yours truly, Thomas Wagner, embarking on a standard 40-kilometer hike and navigation exercise.

Weather is hot and humid, morale is... well, we'll say 'optimistic for now." He grinned at the others, ignoring the good-natured eye rolls and laughs.

He stuffed the notebook back. “Well, that should suffice for now. Shadis must be seriously trying to kill us, I mean, forty kilometers? In this heat?" Thomas groaned, wiping sweat from his brow.

Mina, always with an anxious expression nodded fervently, her dark pigtails swinging. "I heard last year, one of the cadets actually passed out from heatstroke on this same exercise. They had to be carried back to camp on a stretcher!"

"Really? I thought it was just a rumor," Sasha said, her brows furrowing in concern. She patted her stomach, a small frown tugging at her lips. "Guys, what if I pass out? I'm already feeling a bit peckish, and we've only just started! Do you think the rations will be enough? What if we get lost and run out of food?"

Sasha's voice had taken on a slightly panicked edge, her words tumbling out in a rush. She rummaged frantically through her pack, as if hoping to discover a hidden cache of snacks.

Anja rolled her eyes fondly. "Sasha, you're always starving. I'm pretty sure your stomach is a separate entity from the rest of you, with its own wants and needs."

"Hey, I can't help it if I have a healthy appetite!" Sasha protested, finally pulling out a slightly squashed bread roll and taking a large bite. Around a mouthful of bread, she mumbled, "A girl's gotta eat to keep her strength up. You never know when you might need to outrun a Titan, after all."

Anja just shook her head at the suggestion, an impossibility within the walls, the worst they could find would be a wild animal--

"Tstch, Titan? More like wild boar," Mina giggled. "Remember last month, when Sasha tried to take on that pygmy pig during ODM training?"

"In my defense, it looked a lot smaller from a distance!" Sasha huffed.

Thomas snickered. "Yeah, right up until it tried to gore you with its tiny tusks. I thought Shadis was going to bust a vein, he was yelling so loud."

Even Marco, who had been studying the map with a furrowed brow, cracked a smile at the memory. "I don't think 'Beware the fearsome pygmy pigs' is an official part of our training, Sasha," he said dryly.

"Speak for yourself," Anja chuckled. "I, for one, feel much better prepared to face the porcine menace now."

Sasha stuck her tongue out at them, but she was grinning. "Laugh it up, but when the Pig Titan comes knocking, don't expect me to share my secret techniques with any of you."

 

---

Hands around his throat, squeezing. Face purples, eyes bulging in their sockets. He claws at my wrists, nails scoring deep, no pain.

"You fucking monsters,"

 A snarl. Guttural. Raw.

"I'll kill you. I'll kill all of you."

Slam his head against the ground, again and again, the sickening crunch of bone, the warm wetness of blood on my hands. Straddling his chest, lips peeled back , beast lost to the thrill of the kill.

Suddenly, a blow.

Stars explode behind my eyes, blood flooding my mouth.

---

 

Anja hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs in a painful whoosh. She gritted her teeth, tasting blood on her tongue as she pushed herself up on shaking arms.

The sun beat down mercilessly on the training grounds, the air heavy with the scent of dirt and sweat .

Annie stood over her, cool and impassive as ever. "Really?" she said, one pale eyebrow arched in a silent challenge.

Anja surged to her feet, ignoring the protest of her battered body. She lashed out with a wild punch, aiming for Annie's gut, but the blonde dodged easily, her movements fluid and precise. A swift kick to the back of Anja's knees sent her sprawling once more, her face pressing into the sun-baked earth.

"Stop," Annie said, her voice flat. "Why are you wasting my time with this? Did you want to learn or just get an excuse to try to hit me?"

Anja's blood boiled, the humiliation and frustration bubbling over. Annie behaved as unapologetic as ever. "Does it matter? !" she snarled, launching herself at Annie in a fury of flailing limbs.

But Annie was too quick, too controlled. She caught Anja's fist with her knee, using the momentum to sweep her legs out from under her. Anja hit the dirt with a muffled curse, pain lancing through her already bruised body.

"Damn it!"

Annie stared down at her, something like pity flickering in her icy blue eyes. "I take it you're still angry?"

"Screw you!" Anja spat, dragging herself upright on trembling legs. Every breath was agony, but she refused to back down.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Annie's mouth, gone as quickly as it appeared. "I can do this all day, you know?"

"Oh yeah? Show me !" Anja charged, a battle cry tearing from her throat. But her body betrayed her, exhausted muscles giving out at the crucial moment. She stumbled, her punch going wide, and crumpled at Annie's feet in a pathetic heap.

Annie stood over her, silent and unmoving. "Get up," she said at last, her tone brooking no argument. "You think this little temper tantrum of yours will do you any good in a real fight?"

She winced, shame and anger warring in her chest as she struggled to rise. "You have to tone down your emotions," Annie continued, circling her like a shark scenting blood. "Observe your opponent with a cool mind. Be two steps ahead."

Anja finally regained her feet, clutching her throbbing arm. "Easy for you to do, huh?" she panted, glaring at the blonde through sweat-soaked bangs. "You've got no emotions at all."

Annie's gaze shuttered, her posture stiffening almost imperceptibly. "There's no place for emotions in a fight," she said, her voice cold and clipped. "They make you sloppy. Make you doubt. You can't give your enemy that advantage."

Anja gritted her teeth, forcing down the surge of anger and humiliation. She raised her fists, settling into a defensive stance. Annie nodded, something like approval glinting in her eyes.

"Now focus."

---

5 hours earlier

“Hear that?” Sasha froze, her head cocked to the side, listening intently, her keen eyes scanning the shadowed underbrush with an intensity Anja had rarely seen from the normally flighty girl.

Everyone stopped, turning to look at Sasha, then focusing on the bushes. 

"Huh? I didn't hear anything," Mina said after a moment, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"I could've sworn I heard something," Sasha insisted, taking a step towards the tree line. "It stopped when we did…"

A flicker of unease passed through the group, the hairs on the back of Anja's neck standing up.

But before any thought could fully form, Sasha's eyes widened, a grin splitting her face. "Oh! But what if it's a deer!" She clasped her hands together, practically salivating at the thought. "Imagine! Venison roasted over the fire, juicy and tender..."

The tension broke as the others chuckled, shaking their heads at Sasha's one-track mind.

Marco, unflappable as ever, just shook his head. "Let's just focus on the mission. If we keep going, we might be able to make it before it gets dark."

He started forward again, the others falling into step behind him. But as Anja brought up the rear, she couldn't fully shake the unease at the base of her skull. She glanced back over her shoulder, scanning the treeline one last time.

Nothing. Just the rustling of leaves in the wind and the distant call of birds.

Anja shook herself,  hurrying to catch up with the others.

 

They had been hiking for hours, the sun sinking lower in the sky with each passing minute bathing the sky in a mix of red and blue. Their tempers were starting to fray and they felt no closer to their objective.

"We'll never make it in time, it's useless!" Mina groaned, swatting at a cloud of gnats that had taken to orbiting her head.

Thomas sighed, running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair. “We should have packed more supplies, this is going to take us days." His normally cheerful face was pinched with fatigue.

Marco tried to lighten the mood. “Come on Tom, don’t be so exaggerated. We’ve got more than enough.”

Sasha’s eyes darted nervously to the dense forest surrounding them. “You think the others made it?”

Anja snorted. "Not sure about the rest. But knowing Mikasa and Annie, I’d bet my rations that their squad is there already, sharpening their blades and waiting for the rest of us to catch up."

Thomas cocked his head, curiosity momentarily overriding his exhaustion. "Hey Anja, what's the deal with Annie anyway? She allergic to people or something?"

“Only idiots," Anja shot back with a smirk.

"Oh ha, ha, getting back at me for earlier? Seriously though..."

Anja's grin faded and she shrugged, a familiar pang of frustration rising in her chest. "Honestly, it's hard even for me to tell sometimes. She's not exactly an open book."

"Forget books, that girl's a locked safe," Thomas muttered. "Probably boobytrapped, too."

Whatever response Anja might have made was lost in the sudden urgency of Marco's shout.

 

"Two Titans, dead ahead!"

Anja whipped around, It can't be! she thought, her hands flying instinctively to her blades...only to fall still as she registered the distinct lack of thundering footsteps, taking in the targets, she realized they were nothing more than wooden titan dummies.

She shot Marco a long, deadpan look. 

The freckled boy had the grace to look sheepish. "Hey, we're supposed to take this seriously, remember? Pretend they're real."

Anja rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. She gestured dismissively at the two mock titans in the distance. "Pretty sure real Titans don't stand around like department store mannequins, but whatever helps you sleep at night, Marco."

Sasha, who had been uncharacteristically focused on their surroundings for most of the hike, suddenly seemed to snap back to her usual bubbly self. She hefted her blades with a mischievous grin.

"Ooh, dibs on the one on the left! Anja, you take the right and we'll race to see who can drop theirs first!"

---

The hiss of gas and the clank of metal filled the air as Anja shot forward, propelled by her ODM gear. She rocketed towards the dummy, blades held at the ready, the wind whipping through her auburn braid. At the last moment, she twisted, her cables reeling in sharply as she spun in a tight arc around the target. Her blades flashed, biting into the wood, but her momentum was off, the cuts shallow and uneven. Chunks of wood sprayed out, peppering her face and arms as she completed her pass.

Anja cursed, adjusting her grip on the handles as she circled back for another attempt. Her form was improving, but she still lacked the finesse and control. She could feel the strain in her muscles, the burn of exertion, she pushed through it, determined to master the technique.

As she landed heavily on the grass, Anja noticed Annie watching from beneath a nearby tree. The blonde girl leaned against the trunk, arms crossed, her expression distant and pensive. There was a heaviness to her posture, a melancholy that seemed out of place on her usually stoic features.

Anja frowned, wiping the sweat from her brow as she made her way over. "Hey," she greeted, sheathing her blades with a metallic snick.

Annie glanced up, seeming to register Anja's presence for the first time. "You're really pushing yourself," she observed, her tone neutral but her eyes shadowed.

Anja shrugged, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension. " I still have a lot to improve. You don't seem to care much for it though, the training .”

Annie looked away, her gaze unfocused. "I don't see the point..." she murmured, almost to herself. She slid down the tree trunk, sitting on the grass, knees pulled up to her chest.

Anja's frown deepened. This wasn't like Annie. She seemed... vulnerable. Haunted. "Is something wrong?" Anja asked softly.

Annie was silent for a long moment, her fingers absently plucking at the blades of grass. "No, I was just... thinking about something," she said at last, her voice soft.

"Oh?" Anja prompted gently, as she settled down beside her.

"It's stupid, really... I was thinking about my father. ” Her voice distant . “He... he taught me everything I know." Annie's words were halting, uncertain.

"Must be a tough guy," Anja mused, trying to picture the man who could have molded someone like Annie.

"He is... He's all I have left. He's why I'm here, after all." Annie's voice trailed off, her eyes unfocused .

Anja watched her, a sudden blooming ache in her chest. She recognized that tone, that faraway look. The look of someone carrying a weight too heavy to bear alone.

"You told me about your brother, your mother, your home... how you lost it all to those... things. That's why you're here. But why?" Annie turned to look at Anja, her eyes searching, almost pleading.

Anja held her gaze, her own voice soft but firm. "Why what?"

Annie shook her head. "There's no helping it, no real way to fight back against the Titans. Why go through all this effort? When there's nothing left to fight for? Why give up your life?"

Anja held her gaze, a fierce conviction rising in her chest. "Because there's always something worth fighting for," she said, the words ringing with quiet intensity. "As long as there are people left we care about, people we want to protect, no price is too high."

Something flickered in Annie's eyes, a glimmer of pain, of sorrow. She looked down, her next words barely a whisper.

"No price is too high... is it?"

---

"Hah, buyers do pay extra for the feisty ones."

Hot, sticky coppery liquid fills my mouth, coats my face.

A flash of movement, glint of metal.

"Maybe I'll keep you for myself." Hot breath on my ear, stale, foul.

Hands clawing at my face. Knife flashes. Too late.

Teeth sinking into flesh. Blood gushing, thick, coppery.

Tear. Rip. Struggle. Fight. Jaw clenched, worrying the wound. Rabid.

Taste of terror. Agony. Intoxicating. Pulsing. Blood. Fills everything.

More. Spinning. Falling.

Blackness.

---

2 hours earlier

Mina flopped down onto a fallen log with a relieved sigh, shrugging out of her heavy pack and ODM gear. "My feet can't take much more of this."

Thomas joined her, fishing a ration bar out of his pack and tearing into it. "You said it. Hey Marco, think we've got time for a quick shuteye before we head out again? I'm beat."

Marco looked up, the last remnants of light were hiding under the horizon, light scarcely filtering through the trees. "We're making good time," he said, consulting his map once more. "I think we can afford to take a breather, maybe we can make one final push to the rendezvous point, Sasha, how far out would you say we are?"

Sasha, who had shimmied up a nearby tree to get a better vantage point, slid back down to the ground with a grunt. "I'd say no more than five kilometers, give or take. We're definitely on the right track now. But I think we should rest for the night, we can continue at dawn, no need to risk getting lost."

Marco stood there for a moment, hands on his hips, then nodded. "Might as well get some sleep then. We'll make camp here, rest up and recharge. We move again at first light. Sound good?"

There was a chorus of weary agreement as the cadets began to unroll their bedrolls and settle in for a brief respite.

"I'll take first watch." Anja volunteered.

"I'm too keyed up to sleep anyways."

Marco nodded and with that she perched on a broad bough, legs dangling into space as she stared out into the night-shrouded forest.

The only sound was the soft whispers of the wind through the leaves and the muted snores of her teammates. High above, the stars glittered in the moonless sky, cold and impossibly distant.

Anja's eyelids grew heavy and she let them drift shut, just for a moment. The peaceful silence of the forest seemed to close in around her like a blanket, muffling her thoughts and lulling her into a doze.

---

The sun was setting over the training grounds, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Anja and Annie sat side by side beneath a large oak tree on a grassy hill, their breaths still coming a little fast from their latest spar. They were not far from camp, the distant sounds of the other cadets audible over the gentle whisper of the wind.

Annie glanced over at Anja, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "You're getting better," she said, her tone just shy of teasing. "Almost managed to land a hit on me this time."

Anja chuckled, bumping Annie's shoulder with her own. "Oh, shut up. We both know you're still leagues above me."

Annie's smirk widened into something almost like a genuine smile. "True. But you're not as hopeless as you used to be."

Anja just shook her head, a grin tugging at her own lips. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching as the first stars began to wink into existence in the darkening sky.

 

"Hey, Annie?" Anja said after a while, her voice soft and pensive. "Do you ever think about what life was like before? Before the wall fell, I mean."

 

Annie stiffened, her gaze fixed on some distant point on the horizon. For a long moment, Anja thought she wasn't going to answer.

"Sometimes," Annie said at last, her words measured. "But those memories... they're not always pleasant."

Anja frowned, turning to look at her friend. "What do you mean?"

Annie sighed, flexing her fingers before closing her hand into a fist. "Let's just say my childhood was... difficult. A lot of pressure, a lot of expectations. I had to grow up fast."

She paused, seeming to weigh her next words. "Training, fighting, it's all I've ever known. It's what I was raised for, to be a warrior, a soldier." Annie looked away, her expression clouding. "Or at least, that's what I was always told."

Anja's heart clenched, a wave of empathy rising in her chest. Her hand drifted to her brother's pendant, her fingers curling around the familiar metal. She couldn't begin to imagine the kind of upbringing Annie was describing. Her own childhood, while marred by tragedy, had been happy. Loving. Her mother, her brother, they had supported her, even if they hadn't always understood her dreams.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, meaning it. "That must have been hard."

Annie shrugged, the motion tight and controlled. "It was what it was. I survived. Adapted. Learned to be strong, because I had to be."

She glanced at Anja, something raw and conflicted flickering in her blue eyes. "You once said that no price is too high when it comes to protecting the ones we care about..."

Anja frowned, studying her friend softly. "Annie, what are you trying to say?

Annie looked away, her jaw clenching. "I made a promise, Anja. To my father. I swore I'd come back to him, no matter what. And I intend to keep that promise, even if..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Even if it means becoming something I--"

The words caught in her throat, as if she couldn't bring herself to speak them aloud.

Anja's heart ached at the pain, the conflict, in Annie's voice. She wanted to ask more, to understand, but the closed-off expression on Annie's face stopped her.

Instead, she simply reached out, drawing Annie into a tight hug.

For a moment, Annie stiffened, her entire body going rigid with surprise. But then, slowly, incrementally, Anja felt her relax, her arms coming up to return the embrace.

A soft, shuddering breath escaped Annie's lips, and Anja felt something warm and wet soak into the collar of her shirt. Tears, she realized with a pang. Annie was crying.

But before Anja could say anything, could offer comfort or reassurance, Annie was pulling away, hastily wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, avoiding Anja's gaze. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay..." Anja said, her voice gentle, even as confusion and concern warred in her chest.

Annie stood abruptly, brushing off her pants. "We should go back. It's already late."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed back towards the camp, her steps quick and purposeful.

Anja watched her go, a sense of helplessness and aching sadness settling over her. She wanted to follow, to demand answers, to offer comfort. But she knew Annie well enough by now to recognize when she needed space.

With a heavy sigh, Anja leaned back against the tree trunk, tilting her head back to look at the stars. The wind had picked up, the leaves rustling and whispering above her .

---

A soft rustling nearby awoke Anja with a jolt, drawing her attention, she glanced over to see Sasha stirring on a neighboring branch, her eyes wide as plates, blinking owlishly in the darkness.

 

"Anja?" Sasha whispered, her voice thick with sleep and uncharacteristic unease. "Did you hear that?"

 

Anja frowned, about to ask what she meant, but then she heard it. A soft hiss, like gas escaping a valve, followed by the telltale thunk of anchors biting deep into wood. Anja surged to her feet, blades leaping into her hands.

 

She didn't have time to speak. All around them, dark shapes came swinging out of the trees like monstrous spiders, their faces obscured by hoods and masks. The dull gleam of rifle barrels and knives in the fading light turned Anja's blood to ice.

 

"Hands in the air, now!" one of them snarled, the voice distinctly male despite the muffling fabric.

 

"The hell?!" Thomas yelped, jolting awake, clumsily reaching for his blades, shaking as he brought them up into a guard position.

 

"Shit, too late," Anja said through numb lips, letting her blades hang loose and useless at her sides as a figure closed in. "They've got us surrounded."

 

The leader of the group, a burly man with cold eyes glinting under his hood, leveled his rifle at Anja's chest and jerked his head towards the ground.

 

"Leave the butter knives where I can see 'em and climb down, nice and slow," he growled.

 

"Your little friend here too." He nodded towards Sasha. "And don't even think about trying anything cute, or I'll ventilate your fucking skulls. We clear?"

 

Anja swallowed hard, a muscle jumping in her jaw, but then she forced herself to nod, sheathing her blades with trembling hands. Below the others did the same, their eyes wide with panic.

 

They climbed down to the forest floor, where the rest of the masked figures had them on their knees, rifles trained on their heads. Anja's heart clenched at the fear in her squadmates' faces, the way Mina was shaking like a leaf and Thomas looked about two seconds from losing his meager dinner.

 

"W-what do you want?" Mina stammered, pressing back against a tree trunk as if trying to melt into the bark.

 

The leader made a sharp gesture with his rifle. "You deaf, girl? I said hands up and don't move! Same goes for the rest of you before I start putting holes in you!"

 

Marco, ever the mediator, raised his empty palms in a placating gesture. "Okay, just take it easy," he said, his voice admirably steady despite the tension radiating from every line of his body. "No one needs to get hurt here. We don't want any trouble. We're just trainees. I'm sure we can come to an arrangement if you just let us go now--"

 

The leader barked out a harsh laugh, smacking Marco across the face with the butt of his gun. Marco's head snapped to the side, blood spraying from his split lip.

 

"Arrangement? Sure, I'll arrange your fucking funerals if you don't shut up and do as you're told.”

 

He turned to his men, jerking his chin towards the knelt cadets. "Strip 'em of their gear and tie'em up. I don't want these little shits running off to tattle while we haul our asses outta here."

 

They moved quickly, ripping away ODM gear and binding the cadets' hands behind their backs with rough rope. Anja struggled against her captor, earning herself a sharp blow to the head that made stars explode across her vision. She tasted blood in her mouth, barely noticing it slowly trickling down from her forehead.

 

"Anja!" Marco cried out, his voice desperate. "Please, we will give you everything! There's no nee--" His plea was cut short as another man silenced him with a harsh backhand.

 

Anja's eyes flashed with fury, and she renewed her struggle, trying to break free from the leader's grasp. He kicked her in her gut, sending her sprawling to the ground, and pressed his boot against her neck, grinding her face into the dirt. "Easy, bitch" he sneered. "Hah, buyers do pay extra for the feisty ones."

Anja's eyes widened, a cold realization washing over her. These were no simple bandits. They were slavers. A fresh wave of fear gripped her heart, squeezing like a vice.

He reached down, fisting a hand in Anja's hair and wrenching her head back. The cold kiss of a knife pressed against her throat as he pulled her close, his fetid breath hot against her cheek.

 

"Mmm, you smell good," he murmured, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. "Maybe I'll keep you for myself."

 

Anja's body went numb, tears streaming down her cheeks unbidden as she tried to detach herself from the horror of the moment. The slaver's grip on her hair loosened, only to be replaced by his rough hands exploring her body. The repulsive touch sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over her.

 His body was a heavy, suffocating weight against her back. She could feel the edge of the knife, a whisper away from parting flesh, could hear the wet rasp of his breath in her ear.

 

Anja's heart pounded in her ears, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fought to stay present, to not let the darkness consume her.

 

"Please, stop!" Sasha demanded, her voice shaking, threatening to break.

 

From the corner of her eye, she could see another slaver rounding on Sasha, getting right up in her face. "The fuck did we just say about shutting up? Keep flapping your gums, and we might just cut our losses and leave you for the crows, get me?"

 

Sasha paled, shrinking back, but she held the man's gaze, defiant even in her terror. He reached out, catching Sasha's chin in a bruising grip. A lecherous grin crept on his face.

 

"Pretty mouth you've got there..." he murmured, his thumb running along Sasha's lower lip in a grotesque parody of tenderness. The slaver began to paw at her clothes, his intentions hideously clear. It had all become a blur as something in Anja snapped.

 

The world slowed, narrowed. She was hyperaware of every detail - the frantic thudding of her heart, the rasp of her breath in her lungs, the way the sweat on her palms made her bindings slick. She could hear Mina's muffled sobs, Thomas's desperate, hitching breaths. Marco's eyes darting all over, pleading.

 

Something savage and furious roared to life in Anja's chest.

 

The man holding her had grown lax, confident in her helplessness. His rifle lay discarded to the side, and he held the knife loosely, felt his breath down her neck, his attention diverted by his lecherous appraisal of her. Anja felt the bloodlust surge through her veins like wildfire.

 

In a flash, she wrenched herself around in his hold, ignoring the man's weight as his hands tightened on her. His head pressed on her, and she sunk her teeth into the side of his neck.

Clamping onto the soft flesh, tearing through skin with a savage wrench of her head.

The slaver screamed, the sound choked and gurgling as blood sprayed from the gaping wound in his throat. His hands scrabbled at Anja's face, he flayed around with his knife finding no mark as it loosened and fell. Desperately trying to dislodge her, but she bit down again, clenching her jaw tighter, tearing at the wound like a feral dog.

 

Hot, blood flooded Anja's mouth, coated her face, her chest. She could feel the man's pulse flutter wildly against her tongue, taste his terror and agony. Her bloodlust sang exultant.

 

With a final, twisting tear, she ripped her head back, taking a chunk of the slaver's throat with her. He collapsed, hands clasped futilely over the gushing ruin of his neck, eyes wide and glassy with shock.

Anja grasped at the fallen knife with still-bound hands. She stabbed him over and over as he lay there bleeding out. She saw someone closing in from the back of her eyes and turned around.

A shot rang out, she deviated a rifle at the last minute, her ears ringing as she fell on the other slavers like a whirlwind of feral fury,  knife flashing in her hand. There was no grace to her movements, no skill or training, only the raw, primal brutality that bordered on the inhuman.

Blood sprayed in crimson arcs, painting the mud, the trees, her skin. It coated her hands to the wrist, sticky and warm, reeking of copper. Flesh parted like rotten fruit beneath her blade, spilling loops of steaming intestine, the ropy coils of veins and arteries. Bones splintered and cracked, shearing through muscle, scraped by the serrated edge of her fury.

The slavers fought back in desperate terror, blades, fists, clubs and rifle butts seeking any opening. Anja took blows that would have felled a lesser warrior - a club to the ribs, a knife scoring deep along her cheek, the crack of a gun butt against her temple. But she barely felt them, lost to the red haze of rage.

With her lips peeled back in a feral snarl as she launched herself at him, teeth bared like a rabid beast.

They crashed to the forest floor in a tangle of limbs, rolling over and over in the dirt. Anja ended up on top, straddling the man's chest. Her hands closed around his throat, squeezing with all her might. He clawed at her wrists, nails scoring deep, but she felt no pain.

"You fucking monsters," she hissed, punctuating each word with a bone-crunching impact.

"I'll kill you, I'll kill all of you.”

She slammed his head against the ground, again and again, crashing his skull against the unyielding earth. Then she rained down blow after blow, her knuckles splitting against the hard surfaces of his body and the splintered bones beneath.

The last remaining slaver caught her across the face with a large branch, as if trying to ward off a feral animal, from the pulped remains of his friend.

Anja whirled on him with a snarl, leaping at him with inhuman speed. He screamed in terror as she wrenched his own weapon from his grasp and bashed him to death with it, the heavy wood splintering against his skull.

It seemed to go on forever, a nightmare of blood and viscera and choked

screams... until suddenly, it was over.

 

Anja stood panting in the center of the clearing, wreathed in gore, hands shaking. At her feet lay the mangled ruin of the slavers, limbs strewn like kindling, torsos split and seeping, heads lolling at unnatural angles. They were barely recognizable as human, as anything other than butchered meat.

 

And slowly, slowly, Anja began to surface from the red tide of her fury. Became aware of herself again, separate from the blood and viscera, the cooling flesh. The searing, mind-numbing pain in her hands, all over her body, it all came crashing down like a wave, forcing the air from her lungs in a choked gasp. She looked down, to see several of her fingers bent and broken.

 

She could feel the warm slickness of her own blood mingling with the thick, crusting ropes of gore splattered across her skin. The reek of it filled her nostrils, coated her tongue, and sudden, wrenching nausea doubled her over, dry heaves wracking her stomach.

 

She looked in terror at that bloodbath of her own creation.

 

What had she done?

 

"Anja."

 

Sasha's voice, soft and shaken, cut through the high-pitched ringing in her ears. Anja flinched, turning to see her friend approaching slowly, hands raised as if gentling a wild animal. Behind her, Anja could make out the ashen, stricken faces of her other squadmates, their eyes wide with horror and revulsion.

 

No, not revulsion. Fear.

 

And how could she blame them? That's what she was now, wasn't she? A monster.

 

"I'm sorry," she croaked, tears welling up to cut warm tracks through the mask of blood and filth coating her face. "I'm so sorry, I don't... I don't know what happened, I couldn't... I couldn't stop, I-"

 

Her legs buckled, pitching her to her knees in the churned-up mud and gore. Great, wracking sobs tore from her chest. She curled in on herself, disgusted, smearing gore, babbling broken apologies to the uncaring forest floor.

 

She was distantly aware of Sasha approaching, movements slow and cautious, like one would a wild beast. Warm arms encircled her shaking shoulders, pulling her close. Anja recoiled at the contact, but Sasha only held tighter, uncaring of the blood and viscera smearing her clothes, her skin.

 

"Shhh," the other girl murmured, rocking her gently. "Shhh, it's okay. It's over. You saved us, Anja. You saved us."

 

But Anja could only shake her head, keening into Sasha's shoulder like a wounded animal. "No, no, it's not okay. I didn't... I didn't save anyone, I just... I lost control, I wanted to... Sasha, what's wrong with me?"

Anja clung to Sasha. Her sobs gradually subsiding into raspy breaths. But even as the immediate shock began to fade, a new kind of horror was taking root in her mind.

She had always known she was capable of violence, had always been ready to fight and kill to protect those she loved. But this... this was something else entirely. The savagery, the sheer, visceral pleasure she had taken in the slaughter... it terrified her.

Distantly, she was aware of movement around the clearing. Marco, Thomas, Mina, salvaging what they could with shaking hands. Furtive, fearful glances in her direction, quickly averted. She couldn't bear to meet their eyes, to see her own depravity reflected back.

Sasha held her silently, speechless. There were no words of comfort, no reassurances that could make this right.

Anja squeezed her eyes shut, bile rising in her throat. Broken and lost, as the weight of what she'd done settled over her like a shroud. Something inside her had broken, some fundamental piece of her humanity.

The silence in the clearing was heavy, broken only by distant bird calls and rustling leaves. It felt wrong that the world could continue as if nothing had changed. As if Anja hadn't just crossed an irreversible line.

She could feel the weight of her squad's stares, the unspoken fear and revulsion hanging in the air. They would never look at her the same way again.