How the instinct to kill led to her own excruciating death
Tonight, we go through a tragic scenario involving a little girl who transformed into a titan, inspired by the popular anime “Attack on Titan”. Today’s story is unusually dark. You have been warned.
night of december 7th, 2021
Did you ever have a nightmare where you weren’t scared for your own life? I sit here in my bed, just having witnessed something that shook me to my core. Something so grotesque, so disgusting, that I can feel with every atom of my being how inherently wrong it was.
Before me lies a human Titan. A sweet girl who once had many friends before she transformed. Unlike some, she never transformed out of her own choosing. It was like a reflex in her body. And just like that, she was a five-foot-four, smart little girl, stuck in the body of a grotesque ten-meter giant, her brain decaying, every thought reverting to instinct with only base emotions left: anger and fear. What must it be like? To look out of the eyes of a monster, still capable of logical thought and deep emotions, like you’re trapped in an unconscious, zombie-like dream, cursed never to wake up again.
What I was about to experience, though, wasn’t her life. I was unfortunate enough to have just witnessed her last agonizing moments on this earth.
Even as the event begins, all I get to see of her is a torn-up piece sliced out of what was once whole; yet still it is larger than I or any of the other onlookers in the streets. In between old timber-framed houses, in the middle of the brightest day, they are transporting the enormous remains of most of the Titan’s head. I say most of it, because it is already disfigured beyond belief. Most of the face is missing; it’s stripped down to just meaty bones, plus the occasional shred of skin that remains. Both her eyes and ears had been removed; it seems to have been done on purpose.
But if looking at her is already making you sick to your stomach, imagine how she must have been feeling.
As this girl spent many years in her fear-fueled nightmare, she is no longer a human inside the nape; she has become one with the body of the Titan. And inside that enormous brain, she is still very much alive. In fact, just like how they say a small pinch can wake you up in a bad dream, her excruciating pain in this torn-apart body must be making her more alive and lucid right now than ever before in her life.
I have to witness her in a stage where, no matter what atrocities she committed as a Titan, it was nothing but the cruelty of God himself for her to be still alive.
You can hear her, groaning in agony, with a voice only comparable to that of the devil himself. At this point, she has been in this state for a long time. She must be exhausted and weak.
Then something happens…
It is through this event that we would learn an important aspect of the Titans’ nature, what turns them into what they are:
Deep inside of every one of us lies the biological need to kill our own species.
Not in the way that we usually hear it, as a hatred, a grudge; it’s nothing like that. It’s not even specifically in our brains. It’s not a desire or a thought, which, when sent out, tells our muscles to contract and to kill. No, this is deeper.
Within every last one of the atoms making up a human body lies the desire to kill humans, like a magnet drawing us towards murder, like a black hole of depravity sucking us in.
So, unlike a thought in the brain that turns into picking up a knife and pushing it in, this doesn’t necessarily act in normal ways.
It is through this innate biochemical need that some people transform. Not even very hateful people. It is often the most innocent souls that have their bodies rearranged by their own atoms’ desire to kill.
She feels that. She can’t see, can’t hear. How could she, with the organs for it ripped off? But in this endless moment where she is more lucid than anyone should ever be, she can feel through every one of those hungry little atoms. She senses every human around her, like the instinct of a predator. And she can feel the hunger.
One of the soldiers comes too close to the side where her face used to be. I know what you’re thinking, but no, he is not the one you should be worried about.
It’s in this moment, where a young man wanders too close to the beast, that some of her atoms become charged up with this need, hungry to squash his body into a bloody pile of meat. She senses every one of those atoms; she knows what it means. She can’t control it, yet she knows exactly what is about to happen.
She panics.
Out of nowhere, she begins to howl like an emergency siren; you can hear her emotions, and maybe also, through another innate power of us humans, you can feel what she feels. The sheer energy created by her outburst is immense. Hot air washes over everyone, knocking them back like a wave in the ocean.
As you would expect with innate instinct, with no use of intelligent thought, it doesn’t always react in a smart, life-preserving way. The parietal bone, the back part of her head’s bone structure, is driven towards the man in front of her. And like a magnet towards its counter-piece, it pushes towards him.
You can hear it. That meaty thump of the bones squashing her brain further and further in.
You can see it. The juice seeping out where the bones met. Pieces of meat flying off. It’s like god decided to squeeze out a tomato in his hand, purely for the joy of it.
Louder than anything, though, you can hear her. There isn’t a word to describe the sound she is making. The only way to get close is to imagine the essence of agony forced on an innocent little girl.
After everything, she is still alive.
I scream. A drawn-out “NOOOO!” echoes from the bottom of my stomach.
It was like watching a loved one die before my eyes; that’s how connected I felt. And I hadn’t even known the girl. All it took was a few moments, and before I knew it, my faith in all that is sacred had perished.
Again and again, I scream.
Then I wake up.
Man… I gotta say, this one was rough. I think this is a great example to show how intense dreams and the emotions in them can be. I need to point out here that I put a lot of effort into writing these artistically, but I never exaggerate on what actually happened and how I felt during the experience to make the story more interesting. This is just the reality of what dreams can be like for me and probably many other people around the world. On some nights, I wake up as if I’d just gone through hell. But it’s the same intensity for more positive experiences, and luckily, I have a lot more of those than these negative ones. I am always grateful, though, even for dreams like these that are filled with pain. Just like in movies or games, every good story needs ups and downs. It’s the same for life, waking and dreaming, and the more intense those ups and downs are, the more alive you feel.