((Dunno if this is bloody enough for my Taisa, but meh, best I can do. -shrugs- Pairing: ArchKimRoy))



How did he always end up in situations like this one? Hands cuffed above his head, kneeling with his shirt no where to be seen. At least his captors were no where to be see either, which Roy counted in his good graces. He looked around the grimy basement, obsidian eyes not liking what they saw.

It seemed to be abandoned, at least the portion he was being kept in was. There was at least several inches of grim consisting of dirt, dust and whatever else had accumulated here over the years. It was sickening to even think about.

The Flame Colonel tried at his shackles once more, seeing how strong they really were. They didn't give at all, not even an inch. Military style, obviously his captor or captors were in the military, oh wonderful. He should have kept count on how many people wanted him out of a job. He cursed and looked up at the door on the far wall opened and two men descended down the stairs.

"Looks like Flame is up finally." Came a husky voice, that Roy Mustang had never forgotten. Seven years he had been locked up, and now the beast was free once more. "Don't struggle, Mustang. You'll only bruise your perfect skin, not like we aren't planning on doing worse."

"What do you want Archer?" Roy asked, looking at the pale man who came behind Kimbley. "I could get you imprisoned for this."
"If anyone believed you that is. Your word, against mine? It's not very promising, Colonel Mustang." The warmonger purred as he knelt down to Roy, a smirk on his lips. "But Kimbley is right, you are quite handsome. Now you'd be even more so covered in blood." He said, running a finger down Roy's bare chest. The Flame shivered and closed his eyes.
"Now, how do you expect to do that, Archer?" HE said, trying to hide his fear and worry. "There is nothing here for Kimbley to blow up, without killing someone. And I doubt you want to lose your plaything."

"I've already thought about that Roy." Kimbley purred with a feral grin as he disappeared up the stairs and brought down a sack that seemed to be struggling. He dropped it and out stumbled a seemingly drunk Black Hayate.
"What did you do to him?" Roy yelled, pulling against his chains. He watched helplessly as the little dog stumbled around, where was Hawkeye?

"Nothing. Just a little drug that he ingested making his act like a drunkard. Reminds me of your lieutenant, what was his name? Oh yes, Havoc. He stumbled and fell just like that after you rejected him so cruelly." Kimbley purred, squatting down to pet the poor mutt.

"Don't you dare touch him or Hayate!" Roy yelled angrily. Archer just shook his head and watch Kimbley with amusement. Roy was seething, glancing from Frank to Zolf and back again. Which one would start this supposed bloodbath? More than likely Kimbley, knowing his love for gore.

Hayate whimpered as black started consuming his body, Kimbley backing up to stand by Archer. Roy just looked helplessly on as the once adorable, carefree puppy exploded, sending puppy guts everywhere. Kimbley just cracked up laughing as he licked his fingers in glee.

"Would you like that to happen to you, Flame? For the great and mighty Flame to be extinguished for good?" Frank asked as he walked over to Roy, pulling a razor blade from his pocket. "Because, Kimbley and I would hate for you to be uncooperative. We may just have to," he slid the sharp razor down Roy's bar arm, "be a bit forceful." He finished, licking the blood from Roy's limb as the man squirmed.

Kimbley purred as he took the razor from Archer. "Come now, Flame. I know you don't lie to be uncomfortable. We could take those chains off but then you'd run. Behave like a good little boy and we won't have to rip you apart." He threatened, letting the razor bite gently into Roy's stomach, sending a wave of pleasurable pain down the Flame Colonel's spine. "You like that yes?" Kimbley asked smearing his fingers with Roy's crimson blood. He acted like a painter, drawing pictures on the pale skin of his belly.

Roy visible squirmed now, the pain obvious. "Stop it Kimbley. The higher-ups with surely notice the blood." He growled, a sick taste forming in his mouth as Kimbley licked the blood from his stomach.

"No they won't. We aren't anywhere near HQ, you're all ours." He purred softly, digging the razor into his stomach once more, making a bloody cross on Roy's belly. "You're beautiful covered in blood, Roy." He said, handing the razor back to Archer.

"Now Mustang. If you tell anyone, we'll just drag you back down here and kill you, got that?" Frank purred into the younger man's ear, licking it gently. "You are ours. No one else may touch you. Especially that mutt of a lieutenant. If he so much as lays one finger on you, we'll skewer him." The warmonger growled, running the blade down Roy's side, crimson staining the floor as it dripped from the wound.

"Such a pretty color." Kimbley purred, lapping it off the ground like a dog.

"You're both sickening." Roy growled coldly. "And I'll let whoever I want touch me!" He barked, making Archer sigh disappointedly.

"Now, now Roy. You made it come to this. Turn him around, Kimbley." Frank ordered as the Crimson Alchemist flipped Roy so he was facing the way. Archer undid he belt and brandished it like a whip, lashing down on Roy's back. Mustang bit down on his tongue to keep himself from screaming as another welt-raising lash came down.

He could feel blood running down his back as the whip was brought down again and again, leaving Roy in tears. Kimbley laughed and licked them from his cheeks. "Don't cry, pretty Flame. We'll be back to play more tomorrow." He said with a grin as the set a little puppy, barely a week old by Roy. "Until then, enjoy this." He purred, patting the mutt's head before it exploded, gore and blood splattering Roy's face.