Switched Opportunities (JeanxArmin)

Chapter 12: Such Brilliance Used For the Wrong Occasion

WARNING:
This chapter contains the following options:
(Sexual) harassment
graphic depiction.

Please do not read if the information above is triggering in any way possible. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or have any form of discomfort, please, do not continue to read.

With this warning, you may read on.
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Chapter 12: Such Brilliance Used For the Wrong Occasion

Armin dodged the two articles of clothing thrown at him and looked at them furiously. The man stood there, watching very carefully.

"You have a couple of minutes to get dressed. Don't try any funny business." The man reached into his pocket so his sharpened knife could be displayed between them. "Or you will find this stuck in your throat."

Very daringly, Armin spat at the man's shoes. There was no reaction, but he could see the disfigured scowl only deepen. "You," Armin panted, for he was suddenly out of breath. "You need me, you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. What? Do you work for someone who will punish you if you don't get us delivered?" Us referring to who knows how many more boys and girls kidnapped. The man slammed his hand down on the chair he sat upon only moments ago and stormed over to Armin, also ignoring the object that slipped from his pocket. It probably wasn't important after all.

"You shut the hell up, kid or I'll-"

"You'll what?" Armin questioned sarcastically.

Slap. There was a burning sting on his left cheek and his face was turned to the right. Armin fell silent after that. He was scared, terrified for his life even. All he wanted to do was cry. The burn stung even more as the tears spilt from his eyelids. Make the pain stop.

The man took one final look at Armin before he walked out of the room and shut the door. The door clicked, and then silence.

Armin looked down at his lap to see the ugly stained shirt and pants. Just looking at the clothes made him cry. The tears couldn't be contained, and he was sobbing like a baby. Attempting to muffle his cries, he dug his face into the ugly cloth and held his breath. He started to breath regularly again, so he pulled his face away and took one last breath.

If doing what these people wanted secured his safety, it's best do what they say. Armin started to change, pulling the dress over his shoulders and replacing it with the dirty fabric. The entire time he changed, he cried softly to himself. He couldn't even conjure up a plan. His mind was too jumbled to even think, also adding the terrible migraine.

He breathed out a heavy sigh when he finally finished changing, looking off toward the middle of the room's floor. He saw something small, and he hoped it was what he imagined. Making little noise as possible, he crawled over to see the object in all its glory. A cellphone. Armin scooped it into his hands quickly and turned it alive. Except the only problem was, there was no nine dial. The key was not even there. If only he memorized anyone else's number. He concentrated hard to conjure up a plan. Then it hit him.

Jean's number. He always kept it in his pocket. Armin pulled out the number frantically and smiled when he saw the number having no number nine digit. He dialed the number, and waited.

"Your call could not be completed. Please leave a message after the following beep."

Armin ended the call and tried again.

"Your call could not be completed. Please leave a message after the following beep."

He ended it once more and dialed again.

"Hey, you almost done in there." The man outside the door hissed and Armin pressed the phone deep in his chest in fear he could hear the operator.

"A-Almost!" He called back as calmly as he could. There was a little bit of mumbling from the other side of the door before it fell dead silent again. Armin moved the phone back to his ear.

Beep.

"Jean?" Armin asked in a panic. He dropped the phone to see it was a voicemail. He decided to leave a message, but his words became scrambled. "Jean, please help me. I stole the man's phone and the number 9 on the phone is broken. I can't call the police. Abandoned building!"

The door behind him was forced open, and the man looked at Armin with a glare that sent daggers. He started running towards Armin at full speed, and Armin tried to finish the call.

"Help!" Armin screamed into the phone just as the man grabbed hold of Armin's arm. With the little strength he had, he tried to finish. "They're taking me!" The man grabbed the phone from Armin's tight grasp. "England-!" The call ended.

"You little," The man pulled out his knife, quickly slicing Armin's right arm. Armin howled in pain as he collided to the floor, holding his arm tightly. The pain was unbearable. The smell of blood contaminated Armin's nose, leaving that deadly pungent smell. He felt faint teasing at the corners of his eye. Slowly, his head dropped to the ground to mix with the blood.

"I'm going to get a towel, don't you dare move from that spot."

Not a moment past before the man left. Armin's head pounded hard, forming deep lumps in his throat. He wanted to close his eyes, fall asleep, and never wake up. But he remembered Christa's face, and Jean's. He started to remember every single memory he could possibly remember. Like the time he first met Jean, the way his smile intoxicated him instantly. Or the time Christa took him in. He even remembered Eren and Mikasa, his old friends. With all these beautiful memories, he wondered if this is what people meant by seeing your life before your eyes.

"No," Armin growled out, trying to lift his body from the wooden floor. "I need to survive."

He unclasped his grip from his wounded arm and moved slowly over to the window. He looked out it for a second, to watch the waves crashing. After watching the ocean for a few seconds, he conjured up an idea. He pressed his hand against the wall. First he drew an arrow pointing out the window with some of the blood from his wound. Hopefully, anyone who saw this would understand that it meant he was out at sea. Next, he drew the England flag a little lower than the arrow. Some of the blood started to slide down the wall, and Armin had to collect the remains. Satisfied with his work, he walked over to the dress Christa lent him and ripped off a noticeable piece. Hopefully somebody will come and find him. He tucked it into a small crack nearest to the drawing and stepped back to examine his work. It wasn't the best, but it will do.

"Hurry and collect the boys and girls. The ship is here!" Yelled a feminine voice. Armin ran back to his spot on the floor the moment he heard footsteps approaching the door. The door creaked open and a different man with circular glasses and gray strands of hair walk into the room. He was a little older than most of the other guys he seen, and he was the only one who had an apologetic expression.

"I'm so sorry," He mumbled as he pulled out a blindfold from his pocket. "I need to put this on you."

Armin struggled as the man got closer and blindfolded him. It was no use. With an injured arm, it was really hard to fight back. It was almost too easy to place the blindfold over his eyes. All that made it so difficult.

"Sorry." He apologized one last time. Armin panted hard as he tried to see through the blindfold. It was no use. Another piece was added, except it was placed in his mouth. It made it hard to talk and impossible to close his mouth. Then with one jolt, Armin was lifted into the air.

Jean. Armin thought as he looked toward the direction of his clue. Please find me.