Mask-An Attack on Titan Fan Fiction

Chapter One

"Attention!"

The ranks fell into position. Fists were pounded against chests in the traditional military salute. Keith Shadis patrolled the lines like a wolf, scanning the sea of faces for his first victim.

"You!" He pointed a a mousy blonde girl in the second row. "Who are you?"

She saluted and stammered a response. I was too far away to hear it, but Shadis' response rang clear over our heads.

"You think the King would take you?! He would rather take a load of cow dung!"

"Boy! Step forward!" Shadis crossed his arms. "So you think that you could be among the ranks of Lance Corporal Levi Ackerman himself?"

"Ye-e-es, sir!"

Shadis burst into a spurt of harsh laughter. 

"Shut up, worm!"

"Yes, sir!"

Shadis surveyed the rows. I stared straight ahead, barely moving. Shadis stopped in front of me.

"NAME!"

I sprang into action, repeating my salute.

"Igor Larsson, sir!"

Shadis bent down slightly as his eyes drilled into my face.

"You have to be the prettiest boy I've ever seen! Are you sure you weren't disfigured in the womb, boy?"

I kept my face straight, though I could feel a vein pulsing in my neck.

"Weak." Shadis used the word like poison, taunting me for a response. 

I remained resolute, left fist clasped over my heart, lips set and chin up. My pulse was quickening the longer he looked at me. 

Shadis moved on, his face unchanged. 

I stepped back, exhaling slowly. I couldn't tell if I'd made an impression or not, but I was glad the confrontation was over. 

Shadis continued his verbal abuse for a full hour. My arms were aching trying to maintain the salute, and I could tell that my face was showing it. 

Just when I thought my arms would fall off, Shadis called at ease. Relieved, I dropped my arms, allowing them to rest at my sides, legs spread apart. My relief was short lived, for Shadis went on to give a speech that lasted another full hour. His speech mainly consisted of more verbal taunts and abuse, calling us maggots and other such names.

I tried my hardest to listen, but verbal taunts were no mystery to me. I accepted a mindset of spaciness, my mind wandering as I observed the trainees around me, wondering about their stories.

Only once we were released to our barracks did I feel a slight prick of nervousness. I watched as the boys bolted toward the sleeping quarters, some whooping and hollering, others taking their time with grave expressions. 

I ran a hand through my untidy hair, my fingers now familiar to its once foreign length. A light breeze flew across me nose as if to reassure my churning spirits. 

I stood facing the barracks, wavering. I wanted desperately to join the girls. Things would be much less complicated with them. 

But I'd chosen my path, and I couldn't turn back now. 

I headed in the direction of the male barracks, reminding myself to move stiffly, and to flex my nonexistent muscles. 

Just before I entered my barrack, I closed my eyes and exhaled, letting any feminine quality shed from me. As I drew breath, I reminded myself of the qualities it took to be a male. It felt as if a mask were closing over my face, and that image gave my resolve a final nudge. 

I opened the door. My life as a girl was over. My life as a boy was only just beginning.