Disclaimer: Um...really? Do I need to do this? No one here even knows my real name, and heeelllloooo! FAN FICTION! Have I disclaimed enough now?

Glints of Red: Heated Darkness

Prologue

WARNING: Before we go any further, know that this is going to be a graphic fic. And it's rated 'M' for a reason. The inner workings of a psychotic person could be revealed, as I myself fall into this category. Gore is a possible danger, to those with a weak constitution. Be prepared as this is a vampire fic; rough sexual encounters WILL occur, and side effects could lead to arousal, or scarring. Depends on what you're into.

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He lifted from the back of the prone form underneath him. Underneath his dark, lengthy bangs burned eyes so black, they held no depth. They were bottomless pools, a reflection of the limitless appetite the man on the concrete warehouse floor had fallen victim to. Vermilion covered a good portion of his mouth as he stood tall. Lethal canines drew up and over a shapely bottom lip.

The blood tasted dirty; foul, like the despicable man he had just killed. The beast within relished it anyway, of course. Eric smiled, having long since given in to the darkness that constantly hovered over his kind. As he rubbed his denim jacket's sleeve against his mouth, he took a moment to look at the interior of the abandoned and littered warehouse his dimwitted foe had trapped him in. It was huge. Whatever machines had been here were long gone now, leaving giant rectangular grease splotches decorating where they'd stood. High, multiple paned windows were either cracked, or busted, letting a gentle, but cold breeze come in to stir some of the dust around.

Eric withheld a shiver, and bent to the sprawled man, running a hand down the other's designer clothes. The man had had great tastes, and an even greater body with his athletic frame. Eric glided a hand past a long torso to slim hips, finally grabbing the guy to turn him over. The man's petrified gaze was forever frozen in a side glance, grit grounded deep into his left cheek.

"Damn," Eric muttered. The guy really was dead. It wouldn't feel right now if he spent his arousal on the body laying there. There were still some boundaries he wouldn't cross. The black pools in his eyes shrank until they returned to their regular pupils, revealing blue irises so pale, they were almost clear. Eric switched his sights to where the man had been previously looking, curious to see what it was the man had died staring at so intensely. There was nothing but a small indent in one of the far walls. The man must have been concentrating on that one spot, while mentally breaking down at the knowledge that he would soon die. It was the only thing he could have done, once Eric had pounced.

Admittedly, the unknown idiot had started it first by pulling him in here, thinking to do... something. Eric hadn't let his attacker speak very much. He'd been too hungry to play games, but he wished he would have now.

Pent up sexual tension was the worst!

Eric straightened back up, dusting off the knees of his jeans before brushing a hand through his wavy, almost softly spiked hair.

What he wouldn't give for a bit of spiced up fun. He gave a devilish smile that didn't seem to fit his young and handsome features, but the glint in his narrow eyes told a truth.

Eric was standing there one instant, then was gone the next. A distant door slamming was the only indication that he'd truly left the premises.

-(%)-

Colonel Roy Mustang sat in uniform at his desk, gripped in anger. The head boys at Headquarters were requiring his participation in a stream of murders happening outside of Central. Hell! They weren't even happening on the same continent! Why should he have to get involved at all? Didn't they know that the more people involved heightened the chance that any potential evidence could be disrupted in some way? Just because they couldn't figure out how the perpetrator kept eluding them didn't give them a right to call him in. Damned badged idiots hadn't even discovered the face of their criminal. Mustang reread the official letter summoning at least one of his troops over to the USA.

"'We suspect alchemy plays a role in aiding...' blah blah blah. Yeah, right!" He kept reading out loud, "'You and your immediate officers have been recommended by the Fuhrer himself...' I just don't see how this can be!" Mustang fumed, slapping the letter down on his cluttered desk.

"They have alchemists in America, why can't they get any of their own men on this? We've already got our hands full here!"

Riza traipsed in with a few dull yellow folders in her grasp, turning towards the Colonel at his angered outburst. "Getting worked up about it won't help," she said, in that direct tone she always used.

"I hope that's not more bad news," he said, indicating what she held and practically deflating as she walked to stand before him and his desk.

"No." Her oddly reddish-brown eyes glanced over his slumped shoulders. "It's merely the current information regarding the case you will be sending one of us on. Of course, the one who goes will be required to read it, as will you. They don't want you left out of the "loop"."

"This stinks of a set-"

"Colonel," Riza warned abruptly. Mustang blinked, tilting his head to look up towards the ceiling and sighing. He lifted his elbows to the top of his desk, steepling his fingers as he calmly gazed back down to her. "This isn't the place to talk like that, not if you want to keep your position, as well as your life," she chastised, glancing seriously into his eyes.

"Understood," he replied simply. "Any suggestions?"

"I believe Havoc has been getting restless from nicotine withdrawals. Also, right now, he is the best man we can spare for Headquarters' assignment."

"Then tell him to pack his bags for America, and to stop by my office for all the details and the files."

"Sir!" Riza saluted.

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A/N: As you can probably tell, the main focus of this story won't be about the State Alchemists. I'm going to spice up FMA a little bit, even if Edward isn't around to play. Review if you'd like, or remain quiet readers, all is fine by me. Just be nice as this is my first-

-Shoots timid self-

I can't stand when people say that!

Honestly, I'm not sure where this is going, but you've been forewarned about the probable content. Don't expect a nice ride, unless you like more than one form of excitement. Flame me and I'll laugh so hard my meds will come back up and out my nose.