Author: Alright so I had this idea and well you know... this happened. I love mixing things up. Vampires and RoyEd? Two favorite things. What am I gonna do? Mix 'em up.

Police Are a Nuisance

"Last night, another body was recovered on the bank of the river. Like the others, the body didn't have any blood in it's body whatsoever. The police are baffled and, this time, they refused to disclose any other information. Nobody is sure who or what is causing these deaths but we intend to follow the story and-"

A finger pressed the off button on the large screened television, cutting off the prissy looking female reporter's sentence. Golden eyes rolled and a sigh of relief came from the lips of an exhausted day sleeper. "It's bad enough you've got me up this late, did you really feel the need to turn on the news of all things?"

"I wanted to see if they found it yet," The other voice was innocent and sounded much less tired. It belonged to a boy with hazel eyes and chocolate brown hair. Both him and his brother were awake at eight o'clock in the morning and both had just got into their pajamas because they were going to bed soon.

The room was quiet for a moment. The police were always an issue wherever they went and even bringing them up caused a seriousness to rise. They were both as good as dead if they were caught for what they've been doing. It was like walking on eggshells when they went out a night. One wrong step and crack. It was all over.

"We've only been here a few months, Ed. Just because they found the one from last night-"

"They're getting faster." This fact obviously troubled the older, golden haired brother. He took a swig from a mug of coffee that was spiked with something sweeter than sugar. "What d'ya think we should do, Al?"

The younger brother, Alphonse, just shrugged his shoulders, not able to answer. After a moment of trying to figure out something they could do about this, a groan came from him. "Brother, does this mean we'll have to move again?"

"Yeah," Edward sighed, knowing that moving around was always hard. New city, new apartment, new job, new name. Well, not entirely new name. The last name always changed though. Jones was their last name right now and only they knew their original surname. "They're probably getting close to figuring something out. We better start packing."

"Alright," Alphonse said reluctantly. He never liked to move. It meant a lot of change and that was never fun. It seemed like they were always moving. Every few months their entire setting would change and after so many years it got old and plain annoying. Al just wanted to settle down in one house like they had when they were kids. Before the moving. Before the murders. Before all of this.

But life would never be like that needed their food source. Blood. Did they really have to go this far to obtain it? Moving, killing, and then moving again? Why couldn't they be normal again? Is it really too much to ask?

To Ed, the answer to that question would always be yes, it was too much.

"We have a little while," the blonde yawned loudly, not caring how unmannerly that was. "So let's get some rest first. I'll find the landlord later and tell him we have to move. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Right." Al looked away from his brother, knowing what that meant. They only killed who they had to and they couldn't afford to have any ties to anywhere. Which meant they had to kill to keep from being found out.

"Another one?"

"Yes, sir," the blonde secretary set the file on the desk in front of her boss, who was just another detective who was hired for the case a while back. He'd been following it for almost two years now. "It was a middle aged man. He was found in his home and he was just like the others when he was found."

Frustration covered the man's face. He waved away his assistant, knowing he needed to be alone to think. "Thank you, Hawkeye. You can leave now."

She nodded silently, turning to leave. But before she did so, she said one last thing. "Make sure you don't overwork yourself, sir. If you hit the wall, you may miss a murder." She then left the office, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Right," Detective Mustang mumbled even though Miss Hawkeye wouldn't have been able to hear him. It was too late to tell him to not overwork. He'd passed that line two months before and he was not going back now.

It didn't make sense.

None of it made sense!

The only thing that connected the murders was the way they were killed. All the blood in their bodies, gone. There wasn't a tiny trace, not a single drop, that there had ever been any sort of liquid in their veins at all. Something like that was completely impossible, even for a genius serial killer.

The wounds were also surprising. There was one slit in the jugular near the bottom of the throat, but there was also traces of a single bite in the same area. Every superstitious person in the police force was cautious of the crime scenes. The signs pointed toward vampire and no one wanted to take chances.

The only person who didn't care that something so supernatural was possibly running around the country was Roy. Roy Mustang, the 'Vampire Hunter'. It was a name he had earned from this case. Wherever it went, he went and every time he got close, it moved again, not leaving a trace. Most of the time.

Sometimes, whoever it was, would leave a trace. A single strand of hair or a small boot print in the mud, but it never led to anything. The DNA they could gather would always be considered a false-positive because it would never do anything for the case and didn't match up either. It would just be put away with the rest of the evidence after being analyzed.

It was extremely stressful.

Kept him up late at night and got him up early in the mornings.

Nothing matched, there was no connections, nothing clever, it was as if the murderer didn't even want credit. It was different, non-serial killer like. The only thing that was similar was the fact the kills would happen in the same city until the police discovered a body only hours after the time of death and then it would all stop.

Maybe this time the killer had made a mistake. Maybe he slipped up. It was a tiny sliver of hope, but it was always there. Roy always has that hope. Hope that he'd finally catch this bastard and it would finally be over.

So many deaths, but it would finally be over.

But first, he had to find that mistake. The mistake that would end the killer.