Sorry it's been so long. I've been SOOO busy with school. I just read the end of FMA and the ending was so sweet that I cried. I've now been thrown back into an FMA mood and I watched Dracula last night so I figured I'd make Ed a hott vampire^_^
WARNING: THIS HAS A LOT OF GORE! There're also language and it is in no means suitable for kids! There will be lemons later too:P
Disclaimer: I am not epic and amazing enough to own FMA T.T
The distant screams and cries drew nearer and nearer still. Fire licked the walls of the small church, burning the sacred place with not only those wretched flames, but also the innocent blood that covered the courtyard. There was no God for these people. No savior.
The sanctuary on the outer west wing of the yard was left unbothered. There, Sister Rose had taken the children into hiding. The two orphans who she had watched over since Sister Trisha had perished crouched in a corner. Rose feared that the younger boy's broken cries would carry outside the stone sanctuary.
She did not dare attempt to console him.
If not their smell, but the sound of beating hearts would alert the demons that ravaged the church to their presence. Even as a nun, she allowed herself to hate the beasts. Heartless monsters that craved only death. No emotions. Controlled only by the blood they so sought.
She peered back at the children. It almost didn't worry her that the elder had not yet shed a tear. Nor did she truthfully expect him to. The child had not said so much as a word to anyone since their mother had been burned. Only to his brother did he show that he was any bit human. In a sick, twisted thought, one lasting only a second at best, she related the quiet child to the monsters stalking around outside.
It was a wicked, cruel thought. Undeserved. She quickly dismissed it.
"Master Alphonse, please, I beseech you. Be quiet," Rose hushed. "They will hear you."
In the dark, a pair of golden eyes peered up at her, vision blurred by tears. He shook with fear. A child of only ten years. Rose cursed the heavens that such a young boy would have to witness both the death of his mother and the murder of the only other people who dared speak with the brothers.
A demon. A monster. A devil's incarnate. Rose wondered how such young boys could be labeled so harshly.
She smiled at the child and reached out a hand. Splinters of wood hit the floor, following the deafening crack of the door. Somewhere in the very back of her mind, she remembered Alphonse screaming and his brother jumping to his feet. The clearest memories, though, were the sound of cracking, one much closer and loud, and then the numbing, horrible pain of her neck and spine splintering and breaking as she hit the floor.
Alphonse continued to wail and scream as the figure approached, stepping on Rose's leg and causing it, too, to break with a loud snap. Another figure disrupted his line of sight.
"Leave him alone," his brother warned.
The demon continued to creep forward. The boy tensed more. Fury assaulted him. How dare they do this? After all that they had caused. How dare he do this to them?
"Fuck you," the child swore. His fists balled as his voice rose to a scream. "Damn you! For everything! You took our mother, cursed us and, now, have taken away our home! What more do you want, you fucking bastard? Leave us alone!"
Alphonse trembled as the figure loomed over his brother. He cried out despairingly, "Brother, run!"
"Shut up, Al!"
Alphonse felt his brother's foot collide with his head, forcing him into the stone wall behind them and further blurring his vision. The blood that ran down the back of his head was far too warm as it matted his hair. He gazed up, barely conscious now, and watched with the last of his strength.
"If you must, take me, Father! But, leave Alphonse alone," his brother begged. "I will take any punishment or torture, just, please, leave him be! Al's just a child. He's only ten! Why should he be plagued by this?"
The man spoke then. "Are you not merely eleven, a child, yourself, Edward?"
Alphonse recognized the voice. From the deepest memories, back before he could walk. A newborn's remembrances in which this voice had briefly appeared.
"I don't care. Don't you see? He's all I have! All you've left me with! I'll gladly die for his sake…so, please…"
The silence was almost eerie. Al could not be too sure, but he swore his brother had whispered, "As the only favor a Father like you will ever have to bless his children with, please spare Alphonse."
"Then, I too have a request of you, child."
The man drew closer and Al could make out a gleam of red as his brother began screaming. A blood curdling, dying scream. The scream of a man who is torn apart, but ever living as punishment from God. It was the scream of those cursed by the devil himself. A scream of those given a punishment worse than death.
Alphonse Elric lay still, unmoving in fear as he heard his brother's time stop.
The image blurred and the sound faded away. Too much blood had left the child's torn open scalp for him to stay conscious. And as his brother's body fell limp on the floor and the man, smiling, licked his blood stained lips, Alphonse's world went black.
But, not for too long.
His eyes wandered around the room, the smell of death and burnt firewood strong within the sanctuary. Tears would not come. He had spent them all.
Al gazed up, alarmed as his brother's voice beckoned him. But, his brother was…dead, right?
His eyes fell on the figure of man standing in the open doorway. The moonlight streamed in as though searching for survivors to the carnage. A small breeze snaked in, tickling Alphonse's face. The man's golden hair was gently blown by the gust.
Al attempted to sit up. A broken, hopeful smile worked his lips as he sought the man's attention. Even if this man was too old to possibly be, he knew it was true. It was his brother. He had not died. He was still in the world of the living.
A hateful chuckle. "Use your eyes for once, Al."
The endearing name came bitter on his lips. This man stood with only a shroud as his covering. His brother's clothes lay torn and unworn where his brother had fallen. He followed the moonlight to where the man was standing.
If he could have screamed, he would have liked to. The pool of blood he stood in was not his own. Sister Rose hung from the man's grasp, suspended by the grip he had on her long brunette hair. Her body was limp; two puncture marks over the artery on her neck.
"I'll be leaving her here with you. She'll wake soon. Allow her to watch over you, Alphonse. And, if you could…"
The man turned slightly, crimson eyes meeting Al's golden ones. Blood painted lips formed a smile that made Al's heart clench painfully. The words formed on those lips would remain in Alphonse's mind forever. Until the day he died.
"…take care of yourself. Don't allow them to harm you anymore."
The man dropped Rose and turned to leave. Al extended his hand. Stop, stop, don't go. He could not speak.
"I love you, Al. Farewell, my brother."
And, then, he was gone.
Only after a moment of sitting there alone, did Alphonse find his voice. His scream was carried away by the night. Lost to darkness. Just like so many around him.
Yet, he still cried, "EDWARD!"
Spooky, huh? Anyway, more to come soon. We meet Winry next chapter! Yay! As usual, please review!