Arc 3 - Interlude I: To Capture The Dark Angels

(Reverence 3, 59 / 8:22AM)

Somewhere in the Shanta desert…

Train tracks reverberated on trembling dirt, with friction mending to its whims. Spreading out the contents from Terra, the locomotive that prowled the morning growled the spotlight. But on one of the carts, one that had no walls or ceiling, the morning rays shone down on their black tuxedos.

“Wait wait wait!”

A dog-human’s cries grazed the air.

Tears in his eyes, he couldn’t bring himself out of the bind he was in. Rope, tight and sharpened to its core, he desperately wiggled like a wish wanting to return to water. Because blanketing him from the fastening red dirt, was the tracks that were a meter from his face.

Holding him up with the rope, was an agent with blonde hair. Looking like he used the trap door as leverage, he tugged the rope lower and lower.

“Give us the location. Now.”

“I already said you got the wrong person! I’m telling you please!”

“Then explain this.”

Using his right hand to hold the rope, he used his left to plunge it into his pocket. Bringing out a keychain, which was a logo of a sphinx cat, the dog-human's eyes widened at the chain.

Seeing that he knew, Briggs wiggled the chain, while his hand tightened.

“You’re a Pacithiest. You’re hiding valuable info on where the Dark Angels are. Why I know, is because both groups raided the Zirardge ranch together. So tell me right now…”

Blood began to emerge from his callused hand. Feeling his jaw twitch, and feeling his cheeks begin to bulge, he stared at the trap door that housed the fastening tracks.

“Or else you’ll kiss the tracks.”

But before he sent the rope down any lower, he felt a hand tug his shoulder.

Keeping his eyes on the beast-human, he pushed down his face as he felt the warmth of a palm. Silent, frozen, he knew the man who stood near, as his height dominated his.

“Look, Briggs. He looks like he’s on the verge of pissing himself. Torture is beyond this.”

Both women held their breaths.

“So let him go.”

With the sound of the train tracks dominating the background, Eren felt like he awakened a horrible memory. As the scenery was riddled in red dirt, Briggs turned toward the horizon, and saw the landscape change. No twitching hands, no frustration that was withheld, he just stared … and stared …

—He choked.—

Without blinking, Eren didn’t even register the sudden hand on his neck. His face growing pale, he immediately patted Brigg’s arms, as his airways gave way little air.

Both women were on the tips of their toes, with Ada having her boots crinkled with stress. So did Alexandra, whose hands were clasped together in strain.

“gah … B-B-Briggs!”

The morning sun didn’t shine on his face.

His face turning a ghostly pale, Eren tried desperately to tap his arm. Sweat pouring from every gland in his body, Briggs finally began turning toward him. The sun finally hitting his face, he quivered his eyes that quenched in fear.

“Back in that room, you saw the chains on the wall, the blood that dried, and even her. You expect me to show mercy?”

“gah gah … He has nothing … gah … to do with it.”

“But he’s hiding info. And I know he’s hiding it. If he doesn’t want to share…”

Letting Eren go, his fingers unclasped from the side of his neck.

Pushing him away, Eren’s butt crashed on the floor. Ignoring the silver-haired man, his bloodied palm tightened on the harsh hay, as even the cold agent felt pain.

“Getting a facelift would be the nicest of punishments.”

He lowered the rope completely, until he stopped at the knick of time.

The top of his head narrowly grazing the runaway tracks, bursts of steel embers aroused from all directions. Except up. Holding all the air in his lungs, he dangled, as his life was on the line. Literally.

His heart thumping his ribcage, and blood rushing into his skull, he felt like vomiting.

“I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die! Please! Please—”

“Then tell me now … now.”

His face centimeters from the railroad track, he upchucked air through his throat. Biting the inside of his cheeks, and holding all the vomit in his stomach, he squeezed his eyes and saw nothing.

With nothing to view, nothing to see, he saw black. As if reality had resetted for him and him alone…

“They’re in Dodgerock! There I said it! My group is holding them in okay!”

Briggs rose the rope an inch higher, but he still kept Atar at bay. Furrowing his brow, not a single breath was blown from his cold nostrils.

“And Fenix? Where is he?”

“That’s the issue! We don’t know! After the Zirardge ranch raid, they just didn’t return back to the adobe. I…”

The railroad tracks glistened their ears yet again.

Having the silence returning back, Briggs allowed both of his eyes to completely darken. Silent, all glaring, only the faint droplets of blood from his hand drizzled the floor.

“That’s all I know. I swear.”

Briggs then turned toward the horizon, but it was west instead of east. Unwilling to see the morning sun, the wind softly whistled against his face. Feeling his cheeks be pinched, he just stared, leaving Eren, Ada, and Alexandra to stall with tipping toes.

“Are you associated with the Los Cerdos de Ojos Negros?”

Feeling his hair grazed with the wind, he gulped down dry saliva down his throat. Parching, dehydration rained as more sweat dribbled from his body. Unable to look at Briggs, he just stared at the moving metal that pierced off dirt.

“I’m a—”

“Were you. Yes or no.”

It was like seeing light at the end of a tunnel.

Everything around him turned to black, the light he saw could either be two things. His answer determining his fate, he closed his eyes … and opened his heart like a can of worms.

“Before I turned to the Pacithiests … I was a gunrunner for them, a rook who did it for the money.”

Ada, Alexandra, and Eren all hovered near Briggs. Leaning their souls on the edge of a tightrope, they couldn’t blink, and they couldn’t back down.

Briggs turned to look at Atar, his face unshone from the sun. Not knowing what face he had, mystery radiated off his body.

“I was just trying to support myself financially. But when I heard what they actually do to those … those … I just ran. I left.”

Gently biting his tongue, a small stream of blood swept around his gums. Wallowing his enamels with it, marinating his tongue, he gulped the liquid iron that quenched his thirst.

“Humans … beast-humans … People can grow from their mistakes and sins. I know I’m a rat, a sellout, but I don’t want to die. I understand that you don’t like me, but please sir … evaluate my growth.”

Briggs chipped a tooth, making it loosen from his gums.

Hearing the faint crack, the two agents and spartan didn’t hunch any further. No. They began walking back, as they noticed the cold silence that grew. So much silence, so much quietness … they—

[Daddy? Is that you?]

Not even the railroad tracks were heard, as Briggs made his choice.

—“Evaluate this.”—

He loosened the grip on the rope completely.

Before he could blink, a sharp scream tore through the air. Like knives were slicing his face, it was from the top down. His forehead being first, pink matter and dust rose from the entrapment hole.

The rest of the agents covered their ears, as the unholy scream shackled their fears. Keeping themselves occupied with happy thoughts, the only person who showed no emotion, was the culprit himself. Hearing his screams beginning to muffle, the sounds of a failed lawnmower grazed his ears. Batches of pink and red stained his all nice tuxedo.

Before pulling the rope back up.

Blood vessels and muscle tissue bulged from the inside out. All of his teeth were in random order, all scrambled inside his gums. Looking like his skull was caved in, it was a mashup of bones—

And then he pushed him back down again.

No scream dulled his ears, as pink dust rose upward. No wiggling, no warmth reaching his palm, he knew that the last of his life was robbed. Pushing the rope lower, and lower, and even lower … it wasn’t until a huge burst of blood sprayed his face.

Pulling the rope—

He had no face. What came out was a corpse with no head.

Having it lay on the floor, the red iron soaked onto the metal, leaving Briggs no choice but to let go of the rope. His boots squishing against the blood, he huffed, as pink pebbles littered his clothes.

“B-Briggs…?”

The three of them unclasped their hands, and allowed them to drop from their ears.

Silently turning toward them, his face was still ghostly white. Their lips quivering, their breath holding, hot air soaked in his lungs as he bushed breath.

“We’re going to Dodgerock.”

Leaving the corpse be, he began his walk toward the front.

Pushing both hands into his suit, he heard the others trying to catch up. Their dress shoes squishing on the iron blood, they felt the soul still linger…

“And we’re going to tell Gabriel what we just heard. Phone him now…”

Opening the door to the cart, he had it wide for everyone to follow through. Once they were out of view, the camera panned to the scenery, a landscape full of red dirt and lifelessness.

While the screen faded to black.

“Because it’s going to be a long ride.”