I was inspired by the Slicer brothers to write this. Hope you readers like it! It's long, I know, and maybe a little screwed up, but who cares? This is fanfiction! Also, I wrote this super early in the morning, so the time may be a little boggled, also some of the wording, but yeah. Hope you enjoy anyway. :)
For months the criminal called Slicer has been rampaging across the Amestrian city of Central, killing anyone who stayed out later than eleven p.m. We enjoy cutting their innards out, watching their blood spill over the cold ground... splashing through the puddles of liquid rubies... It is wonderful; a feeling we will never forget for as long as we are Slicer brothers.
After lowering my katana I smiled. There was nothing more to do with the girl, other than leave the corpse for the police to find. Chuckling as the crimson flowing from her mauled skin coated my boots, I slid my bloody weapon back into its scabbard. I wasn't extremely skilled with the blade, but knew the human body well enough to find its weak points. Which, I would then immediately murder the victim, stabbing the vulnerable area, and leaving their last thoughts blank and caught in a web of confusion.
The girl's dead eyes stared oblivious into the brick wall of the alley, her light hair soddening with the pool of red that was forming around her. The pricey green blouse and frilled blue skirt she wore were beginning to darken in the blood they were bathed in.
A blood bath seemed appropriate to call this kill.
Darius is my name. I also prefer Slicer. The Serial killer, Psycho Lunatic, Monster... Any of those I will respond to, for I am on the police's most wanted list at the very top. But the label of 'Slicer' is not solely mine. My younger brother, Zeke, is my accomplice in crime. We work as one, disposing of hapless people who reside in this backwater town we slowly destroy from within. We are both called Slicer. But nobody knows, except for us.
As lightning crackled overhead, the thunder following moments after, I stood in the plummeting downpour. The rain pattered soft at first, but then crashed down in a heavy dumping that soaked me almost instantaneously. I frowned as the blood began to wash from the cadaver, mixing with the water that fell from the heavens. Removing the katana at my hip, I raised it above my head to rinse off the stained steel of many beheadings and impalements. I let the filthy water run off without any mind to it dripping onto my feet.
Once my precious instrument was clean, I replaced it back into its cover, sighing and brushing my soaking black hair from my eyes. I stepped around my recent dispatching, sloshing through the flooding street and out onto the main cobbled path.
A brown dog ran by in a rush, -nearly causing me to trip over it- whining and holding its tail between its legs. I sneered. I hated dogs. Dirty fleabags that do nothing but hover you for treats and scratches around the ears. Grinning with malice, I followed after the beast with my fingers around the handle of the katana. I hadn't killed a dog in a few weeks...
I sped to a jog, traveling its previous path and thinking of the canine anatomy. I could cut through the back, puncturing the spine. Or stab the skull, thus piercing the ever-so-important brain. Perhaps amputating a few limbs? Then leaving the thing to bleed to death somewhere? Or should I just stick with wiping the slobbering head clear off its collared neck and laughing while the guts seeped out? Laughing darkly, and barely holding in my excitement, I pressed onward at a faster pace.
I rounded a corner, but froze in place at the sound of a gunshot. Darting behind the building I was close to, I listened for any other noises. I heard some men shouting, then a ringing scrape, and exactly afterward a loud thump. Keeping my breath quiet and my heart slow, I peeked past the wall, focusing on the group of policemen that surrounded-
"Zeke?" I whispered to myself, watching my younger brother standing his ground in front of that mutt that cut me off earlier. His youthful face was sweat shimmering and his electric blue eyes glaring at the five officers, his hand clenched around his own katana he kept with him at all times. I noticed a strip of fresh blood on the sharp end.
I glanced further into the scene. The dog was laying motionless on the ground, a deep bullet wound on its ribcage. I gawked at the matching uniform of a man twisting in agony on the sopping ground. He too, was bleeding vigorously, a profound laceration in his jugular expanding its red field throughout his police outfit. A pistol was resting near his shaking palm. The remaining officers were uneasy, and knew that Zeke wasn't just some regular man on the street. I gripped the building with twisted excitement as the officers moved in with newfound courage.
I knew that Zeke couldn't handle all of them at one time. Even though he was the most qualified with a sword, he wasn't composed under pressure.
But luckily I, his elder brother Darius was.
I shot around the corner and unsheathed my katana, darting towards the police horde with incredible agility. Before Zeke had time to even raise his blade, I had already leapt into the air, bringing the aggressively sharp end of my sword to the nearest man's neck and pulling it through without intense effort. The harmonic squelch of slicing his head off motivated me further, so I flung it away from the empty shoulders as the body sunk and collapsed.
Zeke's face lit up. "Brother!" He paid no heed to me just decapitating an officer, but the rest of them did, watching the gore with horror.
I smiled and landed next to him, my katana gleaming in the street lamp's shine. "Hello, Slicer. Have you killed lately?"
He shook his head. "No. I was aiming for these pathetic police. Have you done anything, Slicer?"
I shrugged. "Just disposed of an annoying lass that kept pestering me for my address. She didn't mind me cutting out her heart and feeding it to the pigeons. I think they rather enjoyed her loving organ. Too bad it received no affection in return for its sacrifice. Love is a cruel emotion, isn't it?" I smirked at him.
Zeke barked out a laugh, catching the officer's attentions. They were looking pale, and a few of them shook with fear. But one, the burliest, pointed a revolver at me, the rest of them following suit quickly. I snorted, feeling no fright at all, even though I was being held at gunpoint.
"Gentlemen, it has been a wonderful evening," I said in a poisonous-polite tone, grinning at our company. "But if you will excuse us, we must be on our way."
I turned, as did Zeke. We both stopped in our tracks as the guns clicked, and two extremely large silhouettes blocked out path. I looked upward at the towering being, realizing that they were completely covered in authentic armor. I exchanged humorous glances with my brother, chortling: "Fool! These katanas can penetrate even your minor plating!" With that remark, I thrust the end of my sword through the armored gut of the tall figure.
It went straight through and out the back, but no other sound was made but the shrieking of pricked metal. I became rigid, eyes widening as I wiggled the weapon inside the person's mysterious abdomen. I heard nothing but that same jogging noise, and looked up in perpetual panic.
They tilted their head down to me, lifting the lip of the visor skyward. I shuddered and gasped at the sight of an empty helmet. No human face occupied it. "You are the fool, Slicer," a chilling, male voice rang from the depths of the armor, echoing hollowly. "What you see can penetrate even your great valor."
That was unexpected.
The bodiless armor heavily cracked me across the side of my head, causing me to stumble. I blinked the blurriness from my vision as another punch to my stomach blew the breath from me. I fell to the ground, sucking in as much air as I could without choking on the rain.
"Darius!" I heard Zeke cry faintly.
Jerking my head over, I reached for him, even though he was five feet off the ground and slung over the other suit of armor's broad shoulder. He fidgeted and tried stabbing it with his own sword, only to receive my same result. I looked to the armor with the katana in his stomach, who reached down and scooped me up like I was weightless as well.
"Unhand me! Let me go!" I shouted, ramming my fists on his arm. He ignored my hammering and hollers, tugging my sword from his middle and clocking me on the back of the skull with its handle.
My eyes really unfocused then, black spots appearing in my vision. I tried to shake them away, seeing Zeke be thwacked as well on his temple. It was a short matter of time before I was hit again as well, and lost consciousness.
"Brother, wake up! Darius, please wake up. Something's wrong," I heard a soft yet urgent voice. I groaned, but obeyed.
"What is it, Zeke?" I asked tiredly, opening my eyes slowly, my sight still fuzzy and unreadable. "What did you want?"
"We..." he mumbled unsurely.
"We what?" I grumbled, agitated. "What's wrong, brother?" I opened my eyes fully and shot him a glare.
Zeke looked scared. He was shivering, with round, bright blue eyes and a mouth pressed into a thin line. His chocolate brown hair was tousled and unkempt, dirt and blood on his face. I sat up swiftly and noticed his clothing. He was dressed in a baggy, faded grey shirt with long sleeves. His pants were of the same discolored slate material; several, blood lined holes in the knees and shins. His feet were adorned with flimsy sandals that gave evidence of no protection at all, based on the red, puffy rat bites that dotted his toes. My gaze traveled back up to his face, a tad disturbed.
"How did you get in those?" I asked, pointing.
He shrugged. "I do not know. How did you?" I glanced down as he did to my own body, which was draped with almost the exact outfit, except mine was stained with mud and bleach. The cuffs of my sleeves were bloodied, crusty, and stiff. I gagged at the smell that rose from the garments, taking in the stench of sweat and rot. Then I noticed something on the upper left torso of my shirt.
48
The black stitching was thick and recent. I touched it, with Zeke watching in exhausted interest. I snapped up to stare at his upper left chest, noticing another number that was close to my own.
49
We were being numbered?
"Where are we, younger brother?" I asked after I swallowed the bitter tasting saliva in my mouth.
He gestured to my right. "I think we're in a prison, older brother," he said, staring out of the bars that lined our cell. "Central City's prison."
I drummed my fingers on the holey bed sheet that masked the grimy mattress I sat on. The bed was jutting from the wall, rusted chains holding it up. Zeke was sitting upon the same thing.
"We were... arrested?" I gawked, realization unpleasantly flooding my already buzzing thoughts.
He nodded. "It appears so."
I glanced between the bars, seeing dim lighting from the narrow hallway beyond them. I heard the snores from other inmates in other cells, and the occasional arguing or humming that came with it. I also noticed that there was a distinct scratching sound, which sent shudders throughout my spine. I squinted towards the small cell that neighbored ours just across the passage, barely seeing sparks that showered each time the scratching occurred.
The man in that cell was responsible for the humming. It was an eerie, out of tune song that was being hummed as he went along, sharpening something it seemed. I leaned to Zeke as he watched him with me. "Do you know who that is?"
He shook his head. "No. But he's been doing that for a few hours. Why?" His almost glowing eyes were studying my face.
I shrugged. "Socializing, Zeke," I got up from my scum-filled cot and walked shakily over to the gate. My cheap sandals scraped against the floor as I dragged my feet wearily. Gripping the bars, I squeezed as much of my face between the poles as I could, which was mostly my nose, part of my chin, and a section of both my cheeks. "Hey! You!" I hissed.
His head jerked upward immediately. I noticed then that he had short trimmed blonde hair, and a plain expression of insanity frozen on his grimy face. "Hello," he giggled in a pitchy tone.
I looked closer at him, noticing he was in the prison attire as well. His getup was almost entirely wetted in blood, the worst around the tear in the lower centered ribs. I almost missed the numbers across his heart:
66
"Did you need something? Ha ha! Or are you just going to stare at me?" he asked, between his sentences howling in crazed laughter. He continued to rub ferociously whatever was between his fingers against a rugged piece of cement in the floor.
I cleared my throat. "What is your name?"
He tilted his head to the side, grinning toothily with his left, bottom eyelid twitching. "Sixty-six!" he shouted hysterically.
"N-no, I mean your real name. What were you called before you came here?"
"I was Barry the Butcher," he replied with a singsong voice as he lifted the sharp object to his deranged eyes. "But I liked Barry the Chopper the best! It fits who I really am, not some blood and slaughter obsessed butcher!"
Barry then proceeded to take the bone (I had just recognized the thing he was stropping to be a bone) and brutally sever his palm open. He didn't flinch as it pierced his skin, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake. I watched with great amazement Barry lick furiously his inner hand, laughing and slurping down his blood simultaneously.
He stopped about two minutes into it and looked at me. "What's your name, might I ask, number forty-eight?" Blood waterfalled down his wrist.
I nodded subtly. "Darius the Slicer." That seemed daunting and important. My new title shunned his aside. He reached down with his tongue and cleaned a part of his arm.
Suddenly Zeke was next to me. "I'm his brother, Zeke the Slicer. It is wonderful to get to know another serial killer, Barry the Chopper." He was usually kind, especially to others that believed like us. I was too, but more often than not, I didn't care. Barry seemed loony enough that I didn't want to get on his bad side, so I strayed from being rude.
"How did you end up in here?" I asked the butcher, taking a step back as he let the blood from his palm drip down his elbow to his awaiting lips. "What did you do?"
"Some annoying midget got me caught by the police. After I kidnapped his girlfriend and was about to spray her blood across the floors of my butchery, he happened to show up. I fought him, as I normally do to the types who run, but just when I was about to win, an armored freak came to save him! Can you believe that? That day was ruined, she was such an easy target!" Barry whined around his lapfest of his arm. He sighed and slumped his shoulders. "Then they took me here and I've been trapped ever since!"
I snickered.
"What? Why are you laughing, Darius the Slicer?" the chopper said with a deeper pitch to his voice. "Did I say something funny? I was quite the comedian, you know. My wife married me because I could tell such great jokes! But she didn't see it coming when I raised my axe to her throat! I was the one who was laughing then!" he had just taken on a more growly tone.
I ignored his last words and replied. "You were caught because of that? We murdered dozens for months without getting discovered. We worked as a team, everyone suspected we were a single killer." I folded my arms and eyed him in his dark little cell, licking his wet skin like a starved man consuming food for the first time in days. "Clearly we are more skilled than some idiotic butcher."
Zeke chuckled, disregarding his means earlier of politeness. "Yes! He scored two murders in one night! Isn't that right, older brother?" I nodded, smiling down to the pale and demented man on the other side of the corridor.
"Ha ha ha! Ha haha! Ha ha ha ha ahaha!" Barry's laugh started low, then rose louder and louder till he was screaming ravingly. "You don't understand how much I had to keep secret! If the Alchemists in Central's HQ knew that they were eating my latest feminine kills, I would have been compromised earlier than I would have liked! I was the pretty little delivery girl, disguised cleverly so I wouldn't be discovered. THAT is why I am lesser in slaughters than you, Slicers!" He jumped to his feet, stabbing a finger at us and opening his mouth wide. His teeth were visible, as was his red tongue and uvula. "But I am far superior in cunning and stealth than you! I didn't have to run when I killed someone! All I had to do was mop up the mess, chop, and package! Nobody knew! NOBODY! I WAS THE PERFECT KILLER!"
The bulky uranium door to our left burst open, a tall, dark skinned man with a large pointed mustache storming into the hall. He was dressed in Military garments, his thick, muscular body bulging from the soft cloth of the shirt, pants, and jacket. He was bald, with permanently scowling eyes and a hefty frown to match.
He immediately turned on Barry. "What are you doing screaming, you slug? Be quiet or I'll lock you in with the Chimeras!" Barry cringed only slightly, smiling devilishly.
"What will you do if I survive the hungry Chimeras," -he took a deep breath- "Brigadier General, Iron Blood Alchemist, State Alchemist, Basque Grand? Ha ha ha!"
Basque Grand crossed his arms, a vein in his forehead pulsing. "I'll feed you to the creator of the Chimeras: Shou Tucker. I know how much you fear the Sewing-Life Alchemist," Barry miraculously gulped and got much, much paler. "Don't test my patience, you blathering numb skull!"
Zeke and I stood stiffer as the hulking man whirled on us. "If you get him excited, one- more- time..." he spoke each word with brimming hatred and warning. "Say goodbye to your brother, Darius."
I stared at Grand as he faced the end of the passage. "Everyone go to bed. You will need your sleep for the execution tomorrow. If I hear another peep, we'll start the execution early, got it?" Nobody answered. The silence was good enough for him, and Brigadier General Basque Grand left the prison hall without another word.
I looked at Zeke, who's eyebrows were scrunched. He shrugged after facially gesturing he was tired, yawned, and slowly eased himself onto his bed. I did the same, retiring and settling myself as comfortably as possible under the itchy blanket and smelly mattress. This was going to be interesting.
At least I had an execution to look forward to.
"Wake up! Wake up! All inmates, report to the front of your cells. This is not a drill. Repeat: Wake up! Wake up! All inmates, report to the front of your cells. This is NOT a drill," someone called the minute my consciousness returned to me. I opened my eyes and looked wistfully at the beaming sunlight from the window. Sighing, knowing I would never see the rays again, I watched them for as long as I could. But before long, the hollering guard came by our cell, demanding us to get up by waving his keys impatiently in front of the bars.
I towed Zeke from his bed, slapping him awake and half-dragging him over to the cell door. The guard unlocked the bars, swung the door away from us, and ordered us out curtly.
Zeke went first, with me following. Out in the open yet thin hallway, I noticed the many other prisoners. All of them had grim faces, with overturned smiles that made them look three times older than they were. I sighed again as Zeke rested his head sleepily on my arm. Pushing him off gently, smiling, we walked with the flow of inmates out of this passage and into a much larger, hotter, and stale smelling corridor. I noticed that there were no windows, or any openings at all in the darkly hued concrete. Cobwebs, slime, and dirt caked the blocks, adding to the grungy odor and sticky humidity. I wiped the sweat from my brow and exhaled heavily as we trudged along.
After walking for ten miserable minutes in silence, a fork in the halls stopped us. The security guard in the lead pulled up a clipboard. He started to name off certain inmates that were going to the different destinations of the passage. Barry, Zeke and I were called first, to go to the right. We pushed through the crowd and obeyed the commands.
We ended up trailing behind Basque Grand and a large, jacketed figure. They were burly, with heavy footsteps and a very quiet voice. I tried to differentiate if they were male or female, but the voice was so soft. I figured it was male, though, considering the size and sturdy back... which looked strangely like... a man's abdomen and chest... I shook my head and glanced to Zeke, who was breathing in through his nose. I noticed that Barry was hugging himself, biting his lip till it bled, with bugging eyes that didn't move off of the creature's oddly formed spine.
Grand looked back at me with a black glare. He stopped, as did the peculiar beast, in front of a plated door. Unlocking it with a keypad, he signaled us to go inside. I went in first, Zeke at my heels, and Barry close behind.
The room was freakish. Three reclining dental chairs rested at intervals around the circular floor, with monitors above them and clusters of wires connecting the seats and the computers. I gaped, wondering how in the world these would lead to our deaths. A samurai suit laid on the floor by two of the chairs caught my eye, and I nervously pondered what that was for. I also noted of a husky, doggish suit with a skull for a helmet resting by the remaining chair. I stared at both sets, a bad feeling churning within me.
Basque shoved Zeke and I forward and into the two chairs facing the samurai. Barry was strapped down, as we were, to the chair neighboring. The mysterious beast that I was studying earlier came into the light, and I stared.
It had the face of a man, only his head was chin up. He had a crop of flat orange hair and small glasses. His face was kind, but he was flabbergasting. I noted he was wrapped in a cloak to cover his furry, humanoid canine body, but his huge floppy ears protruded from his neck and out like horns. He turned to me, smiling and chuckling a whisper. His glasses glimmered white.
"Proceed, Shou, that way no one can hear them scream," Basque said lowly, while Shou darted over to a console and began to click buttons. I stirred violently in my containment, shouting endlessly for them to let me go. They refused, wicked smirks on their lips as they watched us suffer.
It was incredibly abrupt that I lost awareness of almost everything. Only a terrible feeling like I was being torn apart piece by piece was left. I couldn't see anything, just hear the shrieks from Barry and my younger brother. I was sure they were going through the predicament I was. Though I had no way of knowing. I yowled and writhed till I blacked out. The pain was excruciating.
Then I opened my eyes, off the chair, and on the ground. Something wasn't normal... I couldn't feel my body. The room was taller, the lights dimmed, and a haze filled the chamber. I turned my head to the side, groaning. Why could I only feel my head?
"Oh... what happened... Brother? Darius, are you all right?" Zeke's voice came from somewhere below me, and it was echoing...
Hollowly.
"Yes. I'm fine. Are you okay?" I asked him, hearing the same awful resonating that backed my own speech. I looked down. Was he laying on top of me?
All I saw was the rest of the suit of samurai armor.
"Br-brother...? What's h-happened to us?" Zeke panicked, horrified.
I shook my clanky head. "We've b-been..."
"Transmuted," said a soft, calmed voice.
I looked up to see Shou standing over me, his beastly hands clasped. "Welcome back, Darius, Zeke. For a minute there we were unsure if you would pull through," he whispered, smiling kindly and staring at us with equal niceness. "I hope you like your new body..." He reached to a countertop and pulled something off, handing it to us.
I didn't control the arm that took what he gave us. The mirror reflected a horrid sight. Staring back at me was a helmet, with a single horn on the top right metal forehead. The pitch black, three way eye-slit harbored two glowing red half circles, which enabled my sight. A spouting ponytail of white hair stuck out of the crown of the helmet, and a silken partial veil was draped below the eyes and covering the mouth. It also wrapped around the back of my head. I went rigid and tried to control the breath I didn't possess.
"Older brother... are you okay?" Zeke said solemnly, reaching up with the free hand and holding the side of my head. I choked, feeling something burn inside me that I had no name for. It was new, deadly, deviant. I became not myself.
'Get up,' I commanded him with my thoughts.
'Uh... y-yes,' he stuttered, springing upright in an instant.
We advanced on Shou, katana drawn with fury blazing within me. I bellowed, "Why have you done this to us? You pathetic excuse of a scientist!"
He smiled. "I was under orders, number forty-eight, forty-nine. You should have no reason to be angry with me. B-"
"Shut up! You're the one who inflicted this upon us, now fix it!" When he didn't respond, I yelled even louder. "NOW!"
"Calm down, Slicer. We just did you a favor, so be grateful." Brigadier General Basque Grand grumbled as he approached me. "You and your brother's souls are bonded to that armor. You are in the head, while he is in the body. If you want to say in this world, I suggest you listen to what Mr. Shou Tucker here has to say."
I turned to the goggled idiot, boiling still. "Listen closely, Darius. Blood Runes have been drawn onto your armor. Yours is here," he lifted the facial visor and pointed to an odd buzzing formation on the inner back of my helmet. After lowering the visor he grabbed me by the ponytail and lifted me off Zeke's body.
"H-hey! Let go of me!" I shouted, but he ignored.
"Your brother's is here," I watched exactly where he motioned to; a queer symbol that was painted in deep scarlet on the neck piece of Zeke's bodysuit. "If you are careful not to damage those Blood Runes, then you -the Slicer brothers- will have eternal life." Shou Tucker stated in his barely audible voice, smiling as he placed me back onto solid shoulders. "Do you understand the terms of eternal life?"
I nodded. "Of course I do," my tone was a little lighter. "Why did you do this to us?"
"We already explained that, very clearly, Darius. Orders. Simply orders," Grand said in his gruff voice, glaring at us incredulously. "Now, we have a task for you and your brother."
"What kind of task?" Zeke and I wondered in unison.
"We want you to guard the grounds with Barry. Seeing as you are both nearly impenetrable and indestructible, you seemed like good men for the job. Will you accept?"
'What do you think, brother?'
'I don't know, older brother... This doesn't seem right... Maybe we could say no and go out to Central? Continue our fun?'
'No! Are you joking? We could not! We were on death row, what makes you think that we would be accepted as a bodiless suit of armor with a pair of mad serial killers inhabiting it?'
He sighed. 'I guess you're right.'
The Brigadier General was scrutinizing me. "Well?"
"We agree. Show us the way."
"Very well then, Slicer. Come with me."
Barry giddily chortled. "Look, Slicer, look!"
"Mm?" I opened my eyes slowly, after being lost in a memory. The Chopper pointed at the spherical security screens that were displayed in the small room we were inside. He was hopping from one foot to the other in a dance, cheering softly at the blonde boy that sprinted across the lens with a large boulder rolling after him. Then, at a rather tall armored being that stood emotionless and unmoving outside the front walls of Laboratory 5. "What is it, butcher?" I asked in a monotone. His voice agitated me, and Zeke wasn't too tolerant of the squealy sound either.
"Ha ha, ah hah ha haha! Ah heh, heh heh at last..." Barry stood from sitting and steadily walked away from the wall of bubble shaped monitors.
"Where are you going? We're under orders not to lay a hand on them," I said, stopping him as he approached the door.
"Orders?" he echoed, voice cracking slightly. "I don't care about orders, this one's all for me! I'm going to drain out their marrow!" He lifted his large machete, it winking menacingly.
"Wait," I slid the handle of my katana away from the scabbard, exposing the shining blade. "There are two in their quarry. Add two of us, you can't monopolize the pleasure!"
Barry seemed to not have listened, but threw the door open on his way out, prancing around the floor outside and chanting about bones, blood and intruding boys.
'Ready, brother?' a voice asked inside.
Zeke stood us up, swiveling around and walking towards our next victim.
"Always."
Sorry if I missed some things. I stayed up till 5:30 a.m. Writing this. :P I apologize if you didn't like the gore and how creepy Barry was. O_O :D Oh well.
