A/N: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. I've just borrowed them for my sick and twisted fun. Long first chapter. Enjoy.
Tramp's Hole
Edward Elric paused at the mouth of the dim alley. He pulled the hood of his jacket over his head, hiding his features. If he went down this alley, squeezed through the hole in the rotten fence, followed the narrow passage between two buildings, crossed the decaying cul-de-sac, walked through another alley, and jumped the chain-link fence, he'd end up in the abandoned field behind the military barracks. It was a fast shortcut, but a dangerous one. There were many homeless bums who frequented the cul-de-sac and alleys. Edward was certain some of them were convicts. He pulled self-consciously at his hood.
The first and only time he'd gone barefaced down this shortcut, three men had tried to jump him. A pretty face and long hair was all that mattered to them, state alchemist or no. Discretion went a longer way than brute force in the darker alleys, Edward had discovered. So, shivering in the winter wind and frowning at the looming clouds, Edward headed down the alley. It was darker than usual, from the dim twilight created by the evening stormclouds.
Edward carefully did not think of what he was walking on, nor what he was smelling. It was better simply not to ask. He came to the rotten wooden fence, and squeezed through the jagged hole made by three punched-out boards. His hood snagged on a projecting edge. For a moment he was stuck half-in and half-out, cursing colourfully as he fought behind his head to free himself. The fabric tore, and Edward was loose. He cursed again at the fence, then ducked his head and started down between the two buildings. Just before the cul-de-sac, he had to turn sideways to slip through a narrow opening formed by some junk left over from old storefronts. His hood again hung, this time on a wire. It slipped down from his head, tearing noisily.
"Dammit, not again," he snarled, reaching awkwardly behind his head. "Ow!" Some of his long blonde hair was caught on the wire. "Stupid wire, stupid hood, stupid hair...I'm chopping it all off when I get back."
"Why? It's pretty," purred a female voice. Edward jumped, scratched his head on the wire, snatched several hairs out, and tore his hood farther. The woman beside him, dressed scantily despite the winter weather, laughed. "Here, I'll help you."
"Uh, thanks," Edward muttered suspiciously.
The woman easily untangled Edward. She had dark eyes and raven hair. She was not very pretty; age and her lifestyle had marked her features. Edward had little doubt that she was a prostitute. Only those women wore next to nothing in winter. She laughed. She had a pleasant voice. "There you are, blondie. Don't cut your hair. That's some pretty stuff."
"Thanks again." Ed pulled at his hood, and discovered it torn beyond wearing. "Dammit."
"You're welcome, blondie." She smiled, rather provocatively.
Edward ignored her, and began to head off across the dirty, dead-end street. If he went quickly, he could get out of here without any trouble. His forward motion was halted by a thin, strong hand on his arm. He glared back to see the woman hanging onto him.
"Oh, but don't you want to stay? We could play a little, blondie," she purred.
"Not in the mood, wench," he snarled, pulling away. He didn't mention the fact that he was still a minor, anyway. "Get lost."
"Oh, but we are in the mood," a deep, rough baritone proclaimed. Edward half-turned to see a large, hairy man looming behind him. "You're a pretty thing, even if you are a boy. What do you say we play some with Shade here, hmm?"
The woman laughed. "Shigumo, I saw him first."
Edward took the opportunity to edge backwards a step, keeping an eye on the both of them. He yelped and whirled when he backed into a lean form. A whip-thin man grinned, widely. "I want to play with him, too," he commented to the other two, keeping his eyes on Edward all the while.
"Now hold on," Edward snarled. "You will let me pass. I am a State Alchemist." He flashed the golden pocket-watch, and drew himself up as tall as he could. "I have important business to attend to. If my superiors hear I've been held up–" He got no further. The group, which had grown to seven while he'd talked, burst out into raucous laughter.
"I'll bet you I've met most of your superiors," the woman, Shade, purred. "And slept with them."
"They won't give a damn if you show up late, blondie," a man called.
"Besides, you're in our alley," the big man, Shigumo, laughed. He reached out for Edward.
Edward slapped his hands together. Alchemic charge flared blue-white between his palms. Energy raced hot through his veins, muscles quivering to sharp, almost painful readiness. But before he could bring his hands to bear, creating a weapon, a fist closed roughly around his braid and jerked hard. Edward yelped and twisted, trying not to fall. The alchemy dissipated in skittering jumps, leaving behind the peculiar heaviness and after-echo of heat.
A solid boot hit Edward in the knee, and his precarious footing gave way along with his leg. Edward bit back a short cry at the tearing pain as his right knee twisted to the side. He half-fell, his lower body hitting the grimy, broken pavement. His upper body was suspended by the grip on his braid. Instead of reaching for his alchemy, Edward drove his right fist up and behind his head. It connected, and the brittle vibrations of broken bones shuddered through the auto-mail limb. He collapsed on the pavement, but swung the momentum to roll over his shoulders. The defensive maneuver sprawled sideways as another kick drove hard into his ribs.
Before he could get up, another hand had him by the braid. Cursing, he drew his legs beneath him, only to sway into half-consciousness when a heavy fist landed behind his ear. Dimly, he registered the sudden pain blossoming there, and the ache from his abused scalp. He clung hard to reality, fighting his way to clear vision as rough hands eagerly caught at him, pinning him down to the jagged pavement. He blinked dazed amber eyes open to find a dark-eyed female face leering inches from his.
"I get to play after all, blondie," she hissed. For a moment, her features were almost familiar to him. Then her thumb thrust into the underside of his jaw. Edward gasped involuntarily. Like a striking snake, her head ducked down and she fastened her lips over his mouth. Edward froze, then gagged as her tongue swept into his mouth. He struggled, only to find a hand pressed over his throat, threatening to cut off his air. He went perfectly still, the warning all too clear. Fear flared through him.
Her other hand was groping through his clothes, sifting down to rest coldly on his chest, sliding in delicate patterns across his skin. He tried to pull away; the hand on his neck tightened marginally. It wouldn't have been any better if her hand was not there. Each limb was held down individually, probably by a thug. Edward rolled wide eyes to see his captors, knowing it wouldn't do him much good anyway. The same leering grin met him on either side of his head, the men holding his arms watching Shade violate him with eager lust.
He gasped in a sharp breath when she lifted her mouth from his, and started to draw in enough breath for a shout. Apparently reading his intent, her hand clenched bruisingly around his neck, choking him. Wide-eyed, he struggled to breathe again, body jerking convulsively. His heart-beat thundered in his ears. His vision began to fade from his open eyes, his struggles began to diminish. Suddenly he could breathe again, coughing around a bloody lather in his mouth. A venomous hiss sounded in his ringing ear.
"Play nice, blondie."
Edward found that while he'd swayed in and out of consciousness, her cold hands had parted the layers of his clothing. The winter air was almost painful on his exposed skin. He shuddered in revulsion and shame as her hands crawled over his flesh, seeking out the forbidden places. She leaned down and plundered his mouth again. When he tried to fight back, she bit his lips. Coppery heat washed through his mouth, impeding his breathing. The blood reached the back of his mouth, and he gagged. She drew back, and he could breathe again. She writhed atop him, twisting her body around his for her pleasure. Edward's breath rasped harsh through his bruised throat as she moved. Through pain and dirty pleasure and confusion it suddenly struck him; he was being raped. He was a victim. He tried to fight again, angry, but the woman did something to him that made him arch helplessly beneath her, breath snatched away by pain and pleasure entwined. She collapsed heavily atop him, panting.
"Get over, bitch, I want my turn," a harsh male voice snarled. The naked woman shrieked when she was hauled away by a handful of hair. Edward tried to lunge upwards, to get away. A swift chop to his bruised throat sent him lax against the pavement, choking anew against the darkness of unconsciousness.
A heavy mouth latched over his, wrenching his jaw open. Edward gagged as the man plundered his mouth, rough hands groping their way down his body. Edward let out a cry as the hard grip pushed over his bruised ribs. The man's mouth lifted away, and Edward gasped for breath.
"Hey, move him, will you? I ain't no bitch," the man growled.
"But he will be," another laughed. Edward fought, trying his best to kick as the men gripping his ankles forced his legs to bend, drawing them up and wide. One of them thumped his injured knee, making his struggles sharply weaker. Then the first man, Shigumo, was on top of him, roughly taking his mouth. He struggled, twisting, and for his efforts received a punch to his bruised ribs. He dropped limp again, nausea swimming up against his throat. He gave a short, pained cry when the man thrust hard, entering him. A word floated dazedly across his mind; sodomy. Sodomized rape.
Edward hung between darkness and reality as Shigumo was replaced by others. He lost count, but knew that the woman had at least one more turn. Slowly, consciousness receded, to be lost sharply when he felt his bruised ribs crack. Blessed blackness surrounded him.
"Alphonse Elric!" Colonel Roy Mustang greeted the suit of armor at his office door. "What brings you here so late?"
"I was wondering, sir, if you hadn't seen my brother," Alphonse replied in his strangely hollow voice. "He said he'd be back early, sir, but he hasn't appeared yet."
First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye looked up from cleaning her handgun. "Edward left several hours ago. Do you think he's gotten lost?"
Alphonse made a worried noise. "Niisan can get sidetracked, but I don't think he got lost."
Roy frowned. "When did he leave, Hawkeye?"
Riza looked up at the large clock. It read several minutes after ten o' clock. "At four, sir."
"And he didn't mention any errands?" Roy asked, worry suddenly tinging his tone.
"No, sir," Alphonse replied. "He didn't."
Roy stood up, his uniform rustling. "Hawkeye, fetch me Hughes. This is his jurisdiction."
"Yes sir." Hawkeye fit the last pieces of her gun together, slipped it into her holster, and slipped smartly out the door. Alphonse watched her go, worry in his strange gaze.
"You don't think anything happened to him, do you, sir?" he asked.
Roy looked up at the seven-foot suit of armor. "He's Fullmetal. He'll be fine." He smiled, but the expression lacked its usual cockiness.
Lieutenant-Colonel Maes Hughes popped through the door and saluted. "You called, Colonel?"
"Yes, Hughes. Can you perform a sweep of the city? Fullmetal appears to be missing. I want to know if trouble has found him."
Maes snapped off another salute. "I'll get my men right on it!" He paused. "But first we need the details, sir."
Riza came up behind him. "Edward was here until four P.M.. He left, ostensibly to go to the barracks. Alphonse says that Edward had no errands to run, and expected to be back early. Alphonse waited some time, then came here, to see if Edward had remained."
Maes nodded. "I see. I'll start with the last-known location and spread out from there."
"You are dismissed," Roy ordered. He watched Maes leave. "And you and I, Hawkeye, will close things up here and walk with Alphonse back to the barracks."
"Yes sir," Riza replied.
"Oh, there's no need, Colonel," Alphonse protested.
"Almost everyone has heard of the Elric brothers, Alphonse," Roy replied. "And if Fullmetal has found trouble, it will try to find you." He smirked, then looked down at the pile of papers on his desk. "I despise reports...oh, the police want our help again."
"With what, sir?" Riza queried, pattering silently up to the desk.
"An escaped convict... Humph," Roy snorted, reading over the charges. "Shigumo, a multiple offender, mostly sex crimes. Jeez, the criminals we get here in Central. The lowest of the low." Roy scribbled a messy signature on the paper. Several more papers later, he stood up from the desk. "That's it for tonight. Come on, Alphonse, Hawkeye."
They left the office, leaving the locking up to the janitor and his staff. The trio wandered down the darkened streets. As usual, Roy commented on the filthy cul-de-sac of Tramp's Hole just before the fenced-in military barracks. Little did they know that they passed within ten feet of the missing Edward Elric, a limp body bundled into his coat and tossed carelessly at the mouth of the cul-de-sac, hidden only by shadows. They walked right past him, and headed onward to the barracks.
A/N: Uh-oh. Pretty faces equal trouble, eh, blondie-boy?
Edward: (Retching in the corner) I hate you. Seriously. That's just wrong.
Roy: That was just wrong. o.O Sick bitch.
Inez: That's me, a sick and twisted author. Get ready, there's more.
Edward: O.O (Weakly) Like this?
Roy: (Bravely reading ahead) ...not so bad...
Edward: ...
Inez: Read, review, hate-mail me...carry on. Roy, if you snap those fingers I'm breaking them all one by one.