Wow, it has been awhile. This little sucker's been sitting on my computer for awhile. I hope you enjoy it after the wait and it was worth it ^^
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. It belongs to it's owner.
The first thing comprehensible to the blond alchemist was the resistance as he tried to open his eyes. The small slit available to see through was nothing but a red veil, scratchy and crossing in a pattern reminiscent of fabric. He shifted, his shoulders rising as he twisted his head around. Something kept his wrists pinned down to the wooden frame of a chair, same with his ankles. He stopped his attempts at wiggling free when his sore ankle hit the leg of the chair and sent vibrations of pain through his body like a tuning fork.
So far, he was waking up to a pretty crappy day.
Muted whispers surrounded him in a circle, and he turned his head in cycles, trying to catch a sample of what was being said.
"Is he… when is… isn't that man… I heard he was… Fullmetal…" the last word was breathed next to his face, hissing like the oh-so-familiar snake. Edward flinched back and caused his chair to rock slightly. "Full Metal…" he re pronounced it as two words. "I'm so glad you're here… we're so glad you're here."
"Where's here? Who are you? Where's my brother?" He snapped out his questions in a rapid-fire succession. A chuckle sparked from beside him, then spread around the room in a spiral. It unnerved the small prodigy in the center of it all.
"Your brother, and your other friends, are knocked out in the luggage cart of the train already halfway back to Central." He could sense the smile and it seared into his consciousness.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Edward snarled, trying to sound as ferocious as possible (even tied to a chair).
"I want what was unfairly borrowed. You were stolen," a hand caressed his chin in a fondness only suitable for a close friend. Ed snapped at the hand with his teeth, keeping his head away from where he imagined the man was.
"Xald was right, you are feisty." The voice whispered from behind him, totally different from where the blond thought he was. He let out a sharp shout of shock as the man's breath ghosted across his face from the front, then chuckled to his right. Unease grew in a pitri dish in his stomach as the man continued to change his position.
"Who are you?" Edward pleaded to his left, where he thought the man remained. An annoyed groan escaped as the man chuckled from his right.
"A concerned friend. You were in the wrong hands. And in the wrong hands," A tearing, followed by five small pricks of cold sounded as something tore through the sleeve of the alchemist's left arm. "Trophies can get scratched." The five icicles dug into his arm and scorched up to his elbow, leaving deep trenches. A curse rang out and the boy thrashed around.
"What is with you freaks?" Edward snapped, this time up to the ceiling. The whispering stopped as though it had hit a theoretical brick wall.
"We, are not freaks," the man hissed breathlessly, seemingly sincerely angered. Vapid footsteps circled the chair before stopping in front of the prodigy. His hands grasped at Edward's arms, squeezing intentionally on the wound. "If anyone's a freak, it's you my little friend-"
"Who are you calling so small they can ride on a maggot? You sadistic freak!" With one fluid movement, Edward drew his head back, ramming it forward and smiling mirthlessly when it collided with the man's nose. The small flecks of liquid that spurted onto his face did nothing to damper his mood. "That's right, I called you a freak! And on top of that, I tagged sadistic." He continued with his rant. "What is with you guys? Killing because I'm blond? Isn't there a word for that… oh yeah. Crazy. I'm hardly a teenager and I've got freaking psychopaths following me around, wining because they've never seen my hair color. I'm impressionable, dang it…" he muttered the last, finishing his rant like a teakettle running out of steam, dropping it's lid, and building up some more. The silence in the air was distilled, addicting so much, Ed found himself wishing it would never go away.
A pensive foot tap sounded directly in front of Edward. Then it extended into multiple staccato knocks, aggravating as much to the blond as anything he'd ever heard. Then they turned into running footsteps, rushing in a straight path right at him, a growl steadily droning louder as the man drew closer. Then his footsteps disappeared.
"You impudent little whelp!" the man thundered, his knee ramming into Edward's stomach. The impact teetered the chair, prompting it to tip over backwards. Gravity further drove the assault's knee into the prodigy's stomach. The air escaped in a huff from the blond, leaving him gagging and struggling to regain his air. Two hands collided with the ground beside the alchemist's head in an effort to keep the man from flying past like someone over the handlebars of a bike. One hand's presence disappeared, only to reappear in a fist.
"You're tired to a chair, have no clue who you're dealing with, and you think you can insult me?" his voice was incredulous, and he punched the boy with every point. The eye, the mouth, the nose. Painfully hot tears burned in the ducts of Edward's eyes as the cartilage gave a shy crunch, blood sluggishly crawled down to playfully dam up on the curve of his lips before spilling over into his mouth.
"Yes," Ed could've kicked his nature as it spurted out the retort, coughing around the mellifluous red that coated his tongue and throat. The only thing he knew physically of the man lined up against the blond's cheekbones, piquing glacially on his hot skin.
"You won't be quiet will you?" he hissed hotly. In a quick motion the nails sliced down his cheek like a hungry cat. They lingered but for a moment on his chin, before continuing in a slow trek down his neck.
"What do you want?" Edward seethed a curse as his shout caused his neck to jump, pushing the dagger-esque nails further into his skin.
"I want you to shut up! Trophy's are to be seen not heard!" His knee pushed a little harder and his nails dug in a little further.
"Why," Edward bit out, "do you have the same fascination as that creep?" Maybe, as an afterthought, creep wasn't the right word.
"Xald was not a creep," his voice held a note of maddened desperation. The nails thankfully quit their path down to his heart, only to clench his bleeding neck. "He could've been an artist!" It tightened. "The way he thought of colors…" the man's voice was awed, as if he wished he had that kind of artistic talent. "What that man could do with the color red." The grip tightened even more.
The blond's breathing became jumpy, bringing in huge quantities of oxygen, but only small streams of it making it down his air pipe. His head jerked to the side, only to run into what he could only guess was the man's arm. His mind felt like it was spinning in tune with the world, held on a string by a malicious three year old. Tightening his jaw, he swung his head over and dug his teeth into the man's arm.
The screech that met Edward's ears assured him he'd met his mark, and bit even harder, feeling a bit pit bullish. The muscles he was straining in his neck that had been scratched were chiding him, but he wouldn't give in until the man stopped choking him. Finally, the hand relinquished his neck, only to beat him on the back of his head.
"Let go!" the man shouted. He continued to beat Edward's still-sore head, prompting winces. "Get him off of me!" Suddenly, several pairs of hands ascended, poking and pulling. They yanked, trying to get the blond off, but he had yet to let go. Instead, he dug in deeper, sawing his teeth and trying to cause as much pain as possible.
The alchemist's jaw dropped open, his chest feeling strangely empty and painless. Then the pain shot through his ankle like a lance as the person clenching it gave another squeeze. The lazy punch thrown into his cheek wasn't even registered as he gasped. A small sense of vertigo overcame him as someone lifted his chair back.
"Show some respect," a man hissed strangely in front of Edward. Then kicked him in the ankle. The beginnings of a lament was uttered before the prodigy clenched his teeth and swallowed it, feeling like the string his mind had been swinging on had snapped, sending it crashing down to his feet. Slowly, he unscrewed his eyes, still seeing nothing but vivid red. He opened his mouth in a puff of pent-up air, redrawing in ether with a shudder.
"Gentlemen," the main man snapped, his voice hurt as though Edward had taken a bite out of his pride. "I don't want you to give away our surprise yet to the boss." Edward's heart nearly stopped beating. "I wanna tie a bow on him first."
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Mustang found it hard to breathe. He was slouched over funny, his lungs complaining and mutinously holding back on oxygen. The piece of fabric tied around and through his mouth bit roughly into the sides of the opening, propping it open enough so that it felt as cottony as the cloth itself. He tried to swipe his tongue around, but found no moisture on that either.
The room the flame alchemist sat in was round, and a few feet from the walls were pillars, all identical to the one he was leaning against. The ceiling was tall, reaching up like a circus tent. In fact, the whole place reminded him of a circus. Save for the lack of color, the whole place was gray. The ground itself felt of marble, webbed intricately with swirls and lines.
People circled the room, staring intently at something at the center, said thing blocked out by the body of a man, a pair of sharpened nails tapping his thigh impatiently.
Immediately, Mustang made to stand, wondering about the lack of his acquaintances and sure as heck going to ask that guy. But, as soon as his leg moved, someone stepped obnoxiously on it, pressing it in a way it wasn't supposed to bend.
"You don't move." The man stated, gruff and definite. Mustang glared up at the man. He was unbelievably pale and unbelievably thick, his leg an unmoving post. "Got it." If Roy's pointedly vehement glower meant anything to the man, it was submission. His gam was removed, and while the man still had it off the ground, the alchemist acted.
Though Mustang's hands were tired behind his back, he used them as leverage, leaning against the flattened palms and shooting a leg out, meaning to trip the man. The man's shin caught the impact without much more than a jiggle, then acted on his own behalf by jerking his shank up and stomping down on Mustang's leg. With a flourish, the flame alchemist twisted his other leg around to try and dislodge the man, but to no avail. He merely grabbed the offending leg and twisted it, then slammed it down into the ground. Desperately, as Mustang tried to snap his fingers he found not the usual friction of stark white gloves, but his unnaturally soft fingers.
"Looking for something lightening bug?" he asked, holding up a pair of limp white ghosts, small black diagrams drawn on them. Snorting, the man continued, "Just sit down and shut up. Heck, watch the show." He bent a finger and knocked him Roy on the head with the knuckle lightly. "You might see something you like."
As if an unheard que rang out, the circle of people started whispering. Glancing at each other and the thing in the middle, they gossiped only a few snatches of conversation being heard by the coal-headed man. Finally, the man moved, revealing the golden prodigy.
Mustang would've gasped had it been within his physical capabilities at the moment. Edward was tied to the chair, his legs to the chair's and his arms done up the same. A red cloth was tied over his eyes, prompting the way his head was turning this way and that, trying to discern one voice from another. The scene was all too familiar to his dream to be comfortable. Nails (for better lack of a name) stepped in, whispering something just a bit to close to the boy's cheek for Mustang's liking. He made another attempt to get up, but was stopped by the man and rewarded with a rope tying him to the pillar.
What happened after was something Mustang could only define as sadism vs. golden boy's temper. In the end, Mustang was cringing and jerking against his rope like a dog on a chain.
"I wanna tie a bow on him first." The man said, and then turned around to look at Mustang. His eyebrows rose in an unspoken challenge. The flame alchemist gave a particularly violent tug on the rope, feeling virtually no give. The look the man gave him was so full of contempt, Roy thought he might drown in it for a moment.
Nails started to walk towards him, his eyes appraising him. Mustang felt his rage roaring just behind the gag. A few more steps, Roy drew himself up, staring the man in the face and regarding the blood covering half of his face with a small sense of pride. Kneeling down beside the alchemist, Nails put a single sharp namesake under his chin, poking lightly to turn up Mustang's face.
With every fiber of his being, Roy wanted nothing more than to hit the guy in the head like his protégé had done, but the thought that he might say something important kept nagging him. Plus, it might make things worse.
The man continued to lean in, his hot breath fanning across his cheek. With a huff Roy inched his head to the side, leering sideways at the man's jeering smile. The nail dug in a little further and he grew closer still, obviously ignoring Edward's taunts and jibes at his cowardice.
Nails chuckled, low and husky. Breath escaping in low puffs that smelled fetid. His nail dug in a big deeper, before withdrawing it. His blue eyes flashed humorously as Mustang jerked once again against his restraints. He didn't speak again until he was halfway between the two alchemists, facing the thrashing blond.
"Tug all you want dog, you're not getting free," then he shot a pointed look over his shoulder.
"Wanna bet?" Edward replied snarkily, jerking his head blindly and tugging his arms.
"Yes," the man said, looking content with himself and then turning back to the blond. "I would." Then, his body froze like an idea struck him. "But, just to be fun, what do you think the odds are that you'd be able to escape. There's twenty-five people to your one."
"There's no doubt. I could do it blindfolded." The man made a gesture with his hands, and four men aligned them selves each to a bound limb, knives in hand. "I'd have you lot knocked into next week and out of here before you can say salami." Missing the cocky look on his face would've been impossible. The man made another gesture and the men acted quick, slicing through Edward's bindings.
"Stand up, Fullmetal." The man said, and Edward seemed to be sitting in shock. Nails tensed his body and ran forward. "Salami!" he roared, jumping up and aiming to kick the boy in the chest.
Acting on blind instincts, Edward ducked, missing the kick, and clapped his hands together. With a small whoosh of power, his hands hit the ground and a buzzing of anticipation entered the room. "Aw crap."
"You think I'm that stupid?" And as Roy looked at it, he could see the whirling patterns on the marble were indeed the familiar array. "Still you think you can handle me?"
"I can handle all of you!" Edward snapped, reaching up to grasp at his blindfold as he stood. The man acted quicker than anyone Roy'd ever seen. He jerked behind the blond, slapping the hand away and grabbing the trailing hands in a clenched fist. Simultaneously, he kicked out a leg and jerked on the blindfold. Edward's legs slipped out from under him and was jerked down onto the ground. He let out a pained gasp.
"You said you could do it blindfolded. Cocky child," the man raised a foot to stomp down on Edward's ankle. The blond acted first, kicking out his legs and catching the man's raised one in-between. He twisted, bringing his torturer down next to him. The alchemist rose to a kneel, then punched the man where he figured his face was.
"Cocky sadist!" Edward shouted, punching once again. He stumbled into standing, then without a destination in mind he took off running. Strangely, no one stopped the boy as he tumbled through, in fact they stood aside on his escape route that led directly to him hitting one of the curved walls. Fullmetal swore loudly, before sticking out his arms and working his way around the room blindly. Then, he merely let his fingers trail against the wall as he rushed, limping heavily. His other hand was fumbling with the tight blindfold, unable to lift it or untie it.
The man beside Roy chuckled darkly, prompting a look from the flame alchemist. The man allowed his gaze to slide from the fumbling blond.
"Things are going to get real interesting real soon." As soon as the words left the man's mouth, Edward's fingers brushed into the thin air that occupied the doorway. He let out a loud 'ha' of excitement, and the air around the room seemed to shimmer with expectancy.
One step, his foot exited the threshold.
A loud 'thrum' echoed around the room, prompting the blond in the doorway to pause. Edward let out a shout of shock as his feet were ripped out from under him, hefted up to the top of the long doorway. His head cracked against the granite flooring, dragging slightly before he was hefted high enough for it to make clearance. He jerked harshly once his feet were as high up as they were going to go, lurching down before snapping back up again like a marionette on a drunk's cord.
His mouth hung upon and he gasped harshly, his arms hanging limply under him. A silver bauble jerked from it's home and went crashing down to the ground like a falling star. It cracked open, spinning uncontrollably before grinding to a halt under the foot of Nails. His sharp hand came up to pat Edward's scratched cheek. Mustang jerked against his ropes more violently, earning a chuckle from the large man beside him that sent more fuel to
"My name's Eric Buster, so nice of you to drop in."
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Alphonse would've blinked had he had eyelids. His body didn't physically ache, but his mind cried out whereas his body couldn't. A few lights lined the top of where he was, showing a brown wooden ceiling identical to the walls. The room jumped and rocked. Ragged lumps blocked out part of his vision, so he rubbed his eyes. Turned out to be something hovering over him.
It bent closer and closer still, Al tried to dissolve into the wood but that was about as useful as a cat trying to sew a cashmere sweater. Slowly, it's tongue reached out and licked at his armored face with a gentle 'bah.'
Defeated, Al waved off the sheep with a hand, thankful that this time he actually had a hand to wave them off with. Why always me?
Sorry, I couldn't resist the ending. I hope you enjoyed it ^^ *cyber Starbucks and goodies to all*