Brother once told me that some people might look at his life and think about how selfish he has been. Why did he deserve to live when hundreds of thousands had died from his thoughtless actions? They might look at him with hatred, thinking that he deserved to be put to death for bringing such misery upon them. "I deserve to be punished," he had told me.

But what everyone wouldn't understand is that living is a punishment for brother. Living with the guilt he faces everyday is the worst punishment he could have been dealt. He doesn't live because he gets joy from it; he lives in hope that he can make amends for his sin. He believes that the world can never be returned to what it used to be, too many people have died, and it's too late for that. But brother at least wants to put a stop to what he started. He at least wants to find a way to end the apocalypse. All he prays for is a cure to my disease…a cure to everyone's disease. With that, maybe he will finally be able to forgive himself, and maybe he will deserve to enjoy life again.

"Hey, Al, are you hungry?" Ed asked, smiling at me, as he held a live chicken up to me. It was in his right arm, his automail arm. He was being just as careful as always. He had to be careful now, to avoid another accident.

I lunged forward and bit the chicken's head off, spit the beak out and then went for the body. By the time I was done I was covered in sticky chicken blood, it was kind of gross, but the chicken was quite a tasty little treat so I didn't really care. It wasn't often that brother was able to get me live meat.

Ed sighed and wiped my face off with a wet cloth, still making sure to use his metal arm. He took my shirt off and replaced it with a warm, clean one. "There," he whispered. He looked into my eyes, as he often did. It was as though he were searching for my soul, making sure that it was still there. I don't know if he found it, though. I sure hope he did.

He leaned back in his chair and silently began eating a bowl of soup. He acted so casual about it. Eating his dinner in the presence of someone who wanted to consume him for dinner had become part of his everyday routine.

My handcuffs jingled against the wall as I pulled on them, trying to get closer to brother. He smelled nice, like the chicken, only a bit more appetizing. Ed glared at me, "Can't you let a guy eat in peace?" he growled, though I could tell that he was just joking. He continued eating until there was nothing left but an empty bowl. "Al," he said, "I'm thinking about becoming a State Alchemist, what do you think?" He paused for moment, almost as if he was actually waiting for a reply, though he and I both knew that I couldn't give him one. "People used to hate State Alchemist, but now they're our strongest protection against zombies, not that…I want to kill zombies…" He looked up at me and grinned, "I just mean that it might put me in a position where I'd be able to help out a bit more, maybe I'd be able to become powerful enough to reverse this crazy curse that I've given the world."

I slowly nodded my head, which seemed to get him excited. He always got excited when I nodded. It was funny really, how a simple nod had been enough to reassure him that I was still a human being. It made me happy, that he was still able to look at me that way, even after everyone else called me a monster; he still called me his brother. And all because I was able to look him in the eyes and nod my head.

"So, I might have to go to Central soon, I wonder what I can do with you…Winry obviously won't watch you…" he trailed off, leaving me deep in thought about Winry. She was what most people would call sane. But those people, who considered her sane, would think that my brother is insane. Winry thought that Edward was an idiot for keeping me in his house. She said that no matter how many chains he keeps me in, accidents still happen. The irony is that three weeks after she told him that, I took a chunk out of his right arm. I wonder if she said 'I told you so' when Edward walked into her house, short an arm, and dripping blood all over her living room. I wonder if she felt as bad as I did that Ed had to cut off his own arm just to keep himself from turning into a monster like me. If she did, then that explains why she gave him an automail arm so eagerly.

Since that day, though, I hadn't seen Winry. She was too afraid of me to come anywhere near the house. Too afraid that I'd try to devour her, and that she'd have to amputate one of her limbs, or even worse, become a zombie. She had every right to be afraid of me, but then again, so did brother…

I think that brother does everything that he does because he feels too guilty that I'm this way 'because of him.' He only believes that he can fix everything and change the zombies back into normal people because it'd be too painful for him to believe anything else. Believing that there is a cure, and that he can find that cure, gives him hope. The hope that he can make up for what we did.

I can still remember when mom died. I can still remember trying to use Human Transmutation to bring her back. I can remember that moment where we thought that we had succeeded. Her corpse no longer looked like a corpse, she looked alive. Ed and I had turned to each other, grinning like fools. I ran to mother, trying to throw my arms around her, and she had bit deep into my shoulder. Ed had panicked and started to cry. He raced towards me, and tried to push mom out of the house. She had bit him first though. On his leg.

He screamed in pain, but that was it. Then he just slammed the door and got back to worrying about me. I don't remember much after that. I remember being taken to the Rockbell's home, I remember trying to bite Pinako, but that's it. I think someone knocked me unconscious after that. I also think that was when Pinako realized that she'd have to amputate his leg, or else he'd try to bit someone too.

Since then, everyone has suffered. By performing the Human Transmutation we had turned our own mother into a flesh eating zombie, and thus, we had brought a legion of zombies upon the whole world.

Zombies that couldn't speak. Zombies that couldn't be tamed. Zombies, who's only desire in life is to feed of off humans.

Humans sure do hate zombies. Most believe that they are no longer human and that they do not have souls. Most believe that they are brainless, non-caring creatures who are long past the point-of-no-return. But being one myself, I know that all of that isn't true. Obviously, I can think. Since I can't talk, all I do is think. I do care. I can say that in all certainty. I love my brother every bit as much as I did before. It sounds funny, but just because you try to eat someone doesn't mean that you don't care about them. We just aren't able to control our actions.

Our gnawing hunger for human flesh trumps all. About the having souls and being human things though…even I, don't have an answer for that one. I'd like to say that I'm still the same person that I was before, but the real Alphonse Elric would never force his brother to chop off his own arm. I do look human though, everyone knows that. It can often be hard to tell the difference between zombies and humans. Sometimes people don't know until it's too late. Our hearts are still beating, we still need oxygen, sleep, and food; it's just that the food we prefer is different.

Being a zombie might not be fun, but still, sometimes I wonder if we have it better off than humans. We have less to worry about. Well…I know, at the very least, that I have it better off than my brother, he has the guilt of the entire world lying upon his shoulders, and to top it all off, he still has to deal with me trying to eat him.

Ta-da, thanks for reading! It's short, I know, but I had to write it. I have an actually story I have to write the next chapter for now though…