Mask-An Attack on Titan Fan Fiction

Chapter Fourty-Six

The laughter was throbbing against my eardrums, and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck rising. My stomach churned as the waves of sound crashed against my skin.

I had to get out of there; my job was done, but I couldn't move. In my mind, I had been transported back to the forest of tall trees, and the monstrous scream was ringing in my ears, along with the memories that came along with it.

I knew what was about to happen before it did, but that still didn't prepare me for the thunderous boom and the scream of light that caused my bones to vibrate.

I braced myself against the doorframe I had been sheltering in, but my feet lost their grip on the quaking ground and I was flung into the street. I got up quickly, rubbing my aching shoulder and tried to see through the clouds of dust and smoke.

The Female Titan became visible through the haze, and my heart leapt into my throat. I hadn't gotten to look at Annie's titan closely the last time we had met, and it was still hard to see details due to the dust. In spite of this, a surge of fire seared through me as I caught sight of her and her hands, the palms and fingers that had plucked far too many lives from our garden.

Gunther's face flashed before my eyes, and as soon as I had blinked, it was gone. I took a step back, hoping Annie wouldn't see me. She took off in the opposite direction, crashing her feet through the cobbled street.

I coughed as more dust clogged my throat, and blinked through the veil of haze.

Half of the buildings on the street had sustained damage. The three closest to the blast had collapsed, and others had broken windows and shaken foundations.

Cries from the rubble reached my ears, and my heart began pounding harder.

I rushed to the collapsed building, unsure of where to start. My fingers fumbled against bricks, scrabbling at the nearest one and heaving it off of the pile.

"Hello?" I called, hoping to hear a response. "Is someone down there? Keep making noise!"

I heard another cry for help, and I continued moving bricks. Broken glass and splintered wood grated against my hands, but I did my best to ignore the pinpricks of pain.

My shoulders began to ache, and it felt like I was not making any progress. As I bent over and moved hunks of rubble, my maneuver gear would get jostled by my elbow, and as a result, tighten uncomfortably around my arms, legs, and chest, making it difficult to move.

I heard the cry for help again, but weaker.

My throat constricted, and I threw myself at the rubble again, trying desperately to lessen the pile. My fingers were raw from the rough stone and sharp glass. I kicked at some rubble and it fell to the pavement.

Again, the voice cried out. My throat was tightening again, my chest burdening with my labored breath and desire to save the victim beneath the rubble.

"I'm coming!" I called to the victim. "Keep making noise, it's helping me locate you!"

Brick by brick, stone by stone, ache by ache, I made a dent in the pile of rubble. I kept calling out to the voice in the rubble, asking it to echo. With each refrain, the cry grew thinner. I began hearing ragged gasps and sobs.

In the distance, I could hear more buildings quaking in their foundations. My shoulders felt like they had been set on fire, but I continued to lift armfuls of rubble, not stopping to watch it fall to the street.

Then, the voice I had been hearing received a face. A girl, a year or two younger than myself, lay in the rubble, arms clenched around her head and legs stiff. Her body was clutched inward, and I could see blood coming from multiple wounds. I moved a few last heaps of rubble and called down to her.