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Amon sat in a lone armchair, the very one he had bought with his now deceased fiancée. Before him, laid out on the coffee table, were several photo albums, each one contained a photo of him and the one woman he had ever loved.
Capturing photos was a hobby for his fiancée. She often said that while people fade, photos and memories were things that never would. They left some kinda imprint on the world.
Clutched in his hand was a single photograph. He let out a shaky laugh as he recalled the exact moment they had captured it.
They had both been to a festival that day, he couldn't remember what it was for, but he could remember the many laughs they had shared and the fireworks display that signalled the end of the festivities. On top of both, their heads were balloon hats. Looking back now, it was pretty childish, but at the time they simply didn't care. It had been fun, and it was one of his fondest memories.
They were the happiest of times and reminiscing about them was the only thing keeping the last moments he had with (y/n) out of his mind. It wasn't him not wanting to forget the final words that she had said to him, it was more of the fact that he didn't want to remember her disfigured and bloody body.
She was beautiful, and that was unequivocally how he wanted to remember her as being.
Unwillingly, terrifying memories swam to the forefront of his mind.
☽
Amon was currently on patrol and was searching the streets for any signs of ghouls. There had been reports of increasing ghoul activity in the area and he had warned (y/n) about going out at night. Not that she always listened to him, though, and it just so happened that tonight was one of those times.
He was half-way through patrolling when his phone began to ring.
"A-A-mon..." (y/n)'s voice was shaky and sounded broken, it was unlike her usual, cheerful voice. Straight away he knew something wasn't right.
"(y/n) what's wrong?" Panic started to build up in his chest and it tightened. He began searching the streets again, but this time he was looking for any signs of his fiancée.
"It h-h-hurts, h-help me p-p-please." In the background, Amon could hear the faint sound of eating and something being torn apart.
As he ran faster, he kept calling (y/n)'s name, and he made sure she stayed on the phone with him.
Eventually, he found her and the sight before him was horrifying. (y/n) was leaning against the wall, her chest was torn open showing her still beating heart. Her skin was torn and jagged; there was only the skin on her arms and legs left. Her once beautiful face was still intact, with blood-stains here and there, tainting her fair skin.
She stared hauntingly at Amon and he recalled the last thing she had said to him on the phone before her voice had faded away:
"I love you."
These photographs that were laid out before him were the only things that he had left of her.
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