Lance Corporal - SNK fanfiction - LevixOC (volume 1)

Lance Corporal: Harsh Lessons (chapter 23)

LANCE CORPORAL - Harsh Lessons (pt. 23)by galateabellator, Jun 2, 2015, 6:13:25 PMLiterature / Fan Fiction / Drama

Warning: This chapter contains some pretty disturbing scenes and implied sexual content. It isn't for a mature filter, but don't say I didn't warn you.

PART 23 - HARSH LESSONS - Levi x OC

I don't pray to the Three Great Bitches and their crappy Walls. Not anymore.

It might came as a surprise... but I used to pray a lot when I was a child. Not because I was deeply religious, nothing like that - but because I've heard from a girl in the orphanage that, if you wish for something badly, and pray for it every day, your wish would most certainly be granted. Out of the three great Goddesses, at least one would hear your prayer. Right?

Wrong. But at that time, I was stupid enough to believe it, and determined enough to try it. I mostly prayed for two things: for Levi's well-being, for he was always in some kind of danger, and for our mutual escape from the Hell we were living in. I've heard stories about the world on the surface, and it seemed like a place from a dream. I wanted us to live somewhere like that, far away from the stench of soars and the darkness of the world below that I knew all too well.

But sometimes, people need to be careful what they wish for, or pray for. I've learned that in the most difficult way one girl could have. It was a very painful lesson... but a necessary one as well.

The name of that lesson was "Gilford".

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The orphanage in the Underground City wasn't exactly an institution that really bothered to find homes for abandoned children. It was more of a place where all the abandoned children were gathered under the same roof, and given modest resources that barely kept them alive... until they weren't. It was a temporarily home... but also a grave for the weakest of us. Ironically, that dump was named "Sanctuary". For reasons unknown to me, it was all but sanctuary.

Some brats were lucky enough to get adopted. The healthiest ones. The most... promising ones. But, as expected, the numbers of those who were left behind to die heavily outweighed the number of those who were sent away. However, I knew I wouldn't stay there for long. I was sure of it, because Levi promised, and Levi always kept his promises, one way or another.

There was an old lady who managed the whole place, but wasn't happy about it. Mrs. Gibbs wasn't exactly a maternal figure, even if she did all the things that were required – cooking, washing the dishes and our clothes, stuff like that. She was supposedly looking after us, but that wasn't really the case... I believe the more children died, the happier she was because there were less mouth to feed, and more money in her pocket. Now when I think about it, I am not sure that those adopted children weren't actually sold into slavery or something.

There was also... a man. His name was Vladimir, and he was a janitor in that orphanage. He used to keep an eye on all of the children... and he absolutely hated it. Nothing annoyed him more than a bunch of brats who were noisy and wouldn't obey. He was very intimidating, so orphans feared him dearly... but some of us were also bold enough to call him names and mock his heavy accent.

He wasn't very good at speaking the common language, being a descendant of Southern Slavs... so he often used foreign-language expressions and murmured words we couldn't understand. He also drunk a lot and sometimes beat up the least obedient children. (I was smacked a few times for wanting to escape from the orphanage, and apparently, neither Mrs. Gibbs nor Vladimir liked it).

He was also our version of an undertaker. His duties, among other things, required him to remove the bodies of children that died... and bury them. I can still hear the sound of a shovel, piercing the harsh, cold ground. I still remember the diggings, followed by man's heavy grunts which would usually break the eerie silence as he kept burying the bodies. I wasn't there all the time, I only asked to accompany this grumpy old man when some of the kids I used to know or like... pass away. I guess I wanted to say goodbye. I wanted to pay my respects. To bid last farewells to those that meant something. For example... to that girl who told me about prayers. She died three months after getting in the orphanage, and her wish never got fulfilled. It was all very... heartbreaking.