A/N: Ever since my old friend stopped talking to me about anything other than her love life, I guess I've stopped caring about FMA. It used to be so important to me. To put my mind at rest, and give myself the closure I need, I decided to write one last fanfiction. For Ed. For Al. For my childhood to finally stop bugging me.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.

The Living Dead
by Sarigo

Chapter 1

The town of Risembool had finally calmed down from its near-end. Five years had passed. Father had long since destroyed his own life. It now seemed as if nothing had ever happened; the only proof of the past being that the town's golden-haired hero was now gone. He and his brother had left to fix their wrongs and help out those who had once helped them.

Alphonse Elric, younger brother to the hero, was just getting off the train for his final return. His work was done, he could now settle down. He stepped out onto the station platform, and stretched out his back. Home at last.

"Al?"

He turned.

"Oh! Winry! Hi!"

He ran towards her. She was standing barefoot in the grass.

"Heard anything from Ed yet?" he asked her.

She smiled at him. "He'll be here in a week."

The two began walking back to Winry's house. The farms of Risembool were seemingly lifeless. Not a person in sight.

"Gee, where is everyone?"

"Probably out. There's a fair near here today. It's a few miles off; I'd take you if I weren't with a customer today."

They stood in front of the door. As Winry opened it, a large black and white creature leapt on top of her. Luckily, she caught him by the paws, and held him in an upright position.

"Settle down, Den! We have company!" she laughed, and invited Alphonse in. He entered and sat down on the couch, as Winry offered him some water. The couch hadn't changed – still the same one, the same shade of green. Winry really needed an interior decorator.

Winry left the room and Al looked at the bulletin board on the wall. The pictures were all memorable; things he had seen before. Aunt Pinako in one, Edward in another, several of Den, and a few of Al and Ed. Winry and Aunt Pinako were in one that appeared to be new, though. In fact, Al was certain he'd never seen this one.

"Hey, Winry," he started as the re-entered the room. "What's this picture?"

She sat down the glass of water on the desk beside him, and removed the photo from the wall to examine it. A soft smile reached her.

"This was in a newspaper ad for Rockbell Automail...it was taken just before she died."

"She looks so strong here."

Al smiled at her.

"Yeah," she said, pinning the picture back. "She does."

Stomps came from upstairs, and began heading down. A man of about twenty-eight walked towards them. He had brown eyes, brown hair, and only one arm.

"Oh, Al. This is Scotty – he'll be here a while. We're waiting for his infection to heal over before we attach the automail."

"Infection?"

Winry wasn't sure why men got so excited over each other's pain, and groaned as Scotty brightly began to reply.

"Yeah! I couldn't believe it! Some guy actually had the nerve to BITE me. He's got me all sick. Must have had some crazy disease. Anyways, that's the last time I'm ever offering to help an old person across a street."

Al's eyes narrowed. "Someone bit you?"

"That's correct."

Al laughed to himself and placed his hand on his forehead. "People sure do get their kicks out of the strangest things."

"You're telling me?" laughed Scotty. Winry shook her head.

"You aren't supposed to be out of bed yet. What's wrong?"

"Oh, Miss Winry! I came down to ask for maybe some pain killer. I'm trying to tough it out, but this feeling is really becoming a pain in the ass."

Winry hit him upside the head. "Watch your language! I'm a woman! Go lay back down, I'll bring you some medicine."

He smiled at Al to say Nice talking to you, and left. Al laughed.

With that, Winry showed Al to a guest room, and he fell, exhausted, onto the bed.

"Wow," he muttered, restraining himself from lazily drooling on the pillow from comfort. "A bed."

.

.

The Sun didn't rise that morning.

Alphonse plodded through the house. Cold, tired. He knew where Winry kept the blankets, and headed down the hall. A quilt would be nice. They always did feel the best.

He pulled a quilt out of the hall closet, and shut the door. Immediately after, he heard an echo. Did Winry's house really echo that bad?

"Echooo!" he yelled, waiting for a response.

There was no worded response, but he did hear the door close again. As he approached the sound – which grew louder with each passing second – he felt a chill. Behind him, a girl grabbed his shoulder, causing him to jump.

It was Winry.

"Winry, you scared me."

"Shh."

Winry approached the guest bedroom door and stood about a foot away from it.

"What's wrong?" he whispered. She shook her head in reply.

"He's acting strange. This disease, I'm wondering if he got rabies. He's not really foaming at the mouth or anything but...he tried to bite me."

"Seriously? Didn't he just complain about-"

SLAM.

"...that?"

"He's been pounding on the door all morning. Honestly, Alphonse, it's kind of scaring me."

"Well, have you called a doctor yet?"

"No?"

"I'll go get the phone. Don't open this door for anything."

He headed downstairs to find the telephone. He dialed for a doctor.

It rang several times, but did not pick up. Or go to answering machine, for that matter.

He hung up, and tried once more. Nothing. With a sigh, he trudged back up the stairs, and wrapped the quilt around him as if it were fine robes.

"There was no answer."

"No answer? But it's 911. They have to answer."

"Sure, but they didn't."

SLAM.

It was really creepy, to be honest.

"Al, maybe we should try to pin him down? Inject him with pain killers?"

"Maybe. I will try to think something up."

He stared at the door for a moment, and snapped his fingers.

"Alright, I have it."

He clapped together his hands and placed them on the door. The door destroyed itself, and rebuilt itself as a cage, which surrounded Scotty. Al immediately turned to face Winry.

"See, piece of cake."

Winry's eyes widened, and she let out a scream. He turned around to see what had the very image of a corpse, reaching out to him from the bars. The area of his shoulder that showed where his arm had been amputated was now swollen three times its original size, and covered in blood vessels. Al took a step back.

"What is this?"

"Alphonse, his eyes!"

Al looked at his eyes and saw that they had no coloration. All black, everything. No pupil. No iris. All darkness.

He turned to face Winry.

"We need to go get a doctor, if it means driving to find one. I've never seen anything like this."

He went to his guest room and opened his suitcase. A coat, a pair of pants, and a shirt. He was now dressed to leave the house.

"Al, wait. Should we really just leave him here?"

"I'd rather us do that than stay here with him."

He walked down the stairs briskly and opened the front door. Two steps out, he saw the world before him. And this world was covered in people. Many people. People who appeared to be dead.

"What's going on?" he asked, not sure he wanted an answer. He wondered if the disease had spread to the world, and realized that the idea of whatever it was spreading overnight was preposterous. He wondered how they all could look so dead, and still be alive.

Den stood behind him, growling. He'd been doing it for a while now, and Al had just then noticed. He let his growling grow louder, until he finally let out a bark. Two barks. Three.

The whole world around them looked at them, and began to drag themselves towards the house. Al slammed the door shut, and clapped his hands together.

"What are you doing?" asked Winry. Al transmuted the doors and windows into walls so that they were all shut.

"They're not people."

"How can you tell? I think it's just a virus."

"Winry. I have absolutely no idea what's going on right now, but I know that some of those people walking that ground were not...human."

"Al, you're insane," she said, heading upstairs to her balcony. She looked out the window and saw a vast amount of people. Walking. Trudging. Plodding. Dragging.

Al came into her room.

"I think...I think we should go. I need to get ahold of some people. Then we'll go."

There was no reply. Al walked up behind her and grabbed her hand, gently.

"Alphonse."

He tilted his head. Winry was covering her mouth and pointing with the hand he had hold of. He looked in the direction of her finger.

And there, he saw Pinako, staring at them. Staring at their window...

.

.

End of Chapter Notes: Hey, this is my first time writing on my own. More action is to come in the later chapters. At the moment, I'm rather tired. I have a four-day weekend and plan on spending my time writing. This was a pretty short chapter, too, and was really more of a "Grip Chapter". Anyways, I hope you liked it, and I hope you continue reading!