Well, here it is; my next story. I'm trying something different with this one and I hope you all like it.
OoO
OoO
Central, the city that never gave a shit.
To survive in the slums you needed to be strong. You had to have the guts to do what you needed to survive. Because if you didn't, too bad. No one was going to help you.
No one gives a shit.
The young Ishvalan man remembered this as he trudged down the sidewalk. His footsteps echoing loudly down the empty streets. The sun had set a long time ago and night was well underway. A reasonable person would be home where it's safe. But reasonable people usually weren't looking over their shoulder after having just robbed a liquor store.
It'd gone well, relatively speaking. The owner had resisted more than the Ishvalan would have liked. Rolling his mask up in his hands, he tossed it into a nearby dumpster. A mask was necessary for these types of jobs. The mark on his face was too recognizable.
His scar.
As he walked, his hand slipped into the bag around his shoulder. There was enough money in there to keep him going for the next two months. He wasn't worried about anyone trying to take it from him. At 6'5, he was a very intimidating sight to behold.
Is was at that moment that he realized that there was a black car trailing slowly behind him. The man glanced subtly over his shoulder and kept on walking. The car was trailing about 10 feet behind him, moving at the same speed that he was. It wasn't a cop car. He didn't know who it was.
His other hand drifted to the waist of his pants. The gun that he had used to rob the store was right where he needed it to be. His red eyes glared forward as he heard the car accelerate and he glanced to the side as it drove past him. He let out a sigh of relief and removed his hand from his pistol.
He froze when the car came to a stop next to the sidewalk about 10 feet in front of him. It was a black limo. He had only seen a limo like this a handful of times. One of the doors opened and a man climbed out of it.
Scar stared wearily as the man stepped out in front of him. The man was tall and wore a black, well pressed suit. He was also wearing sun glasses, which the Ishvalan found to be strange considering that it was night out. The mysterious man's face was set in a grin that reminded the young Ishvalan of a reptile.
"Hello, Mr. Scar." The man said with a nod.
Scar didn't respond.
"I know that's not your real name." The man continued, holding up a folder. "I know a lot about you, actuality." He opened the folder.
"Now let's see...assault resulting in bodily injury, burglary, unlawful possession of a weapon, and resisting arrest." The man listed off. "Oh and having a stash of over-the-counter decongestant pills that could be used to make methamphetamine. Specific." The man grinned as he looked up at him. "It also says that you have no current occupation." He pointed his hand toward the open door of the limo. "Are you interested in a job interview?"
Scar glanced at the limo then back at the man. He now had a pretty good idea who this man was and if he was right, then he knew who was waiting for him in the car.
The man broke him out of his thoughts. "This is a limited time offer."
Scar cautiously made his way forward, eyeing the vehicle like a sheep would a dangerous animal. As he got close he was stopped by the man placing his hand on his chest. Scar glared at the grinning man.
"As my client's representative, I suggest you leave the stolen money and the unlicensed firearm outside of the vehicle."
Scar stared at the man for a moment before dropping the bag and gun on the hard pavement.
This was either going to go very good for him, or very bad.
Getting into the limo, Scar went rigid when he saw the man sitting across from him. There was a single light on the ceiling, pointed directly at him. Because of this his vision was slightly obscured by its brightness. Despite that, he could still clearly see the man in front of him. The elegant brown suit, the golden blonde hair flowing around a strong face, and the piercing gold eyes.
Van Hohenheim.
Scar kept silent, not daring to speak. The man in front of him was silent as well, albeit a more calm and amused silent. Scar on the other hand found himself feeling extremely on-edge. He eventually noticed that his own hands were shaking. He'd faced armed gangs, knife wielding drug addicts, and cops without batting an eye. Yet right now, he held no control over his own nerves.
"Good evening." Van Hohenheim finally spoke.
Scar opened his mouth but no words came out. He tried again and was able to say:
"Hello."
Hohenheim smiled. It was a disarming smile, yet Scar didn't allow himself to relax yet. Not until he knew why he was in this car. The door closed next to him and he heard the man outside get into the passenger seat up front. Shortly there after, the car started moving.
Hohenheim spoke again. "You can calm down Scar. I assure you that I plan no ill will towards you."
Scar swallowed as he nodded.
"I hope Gregory didn't startle you too greatly." Hohenheim said. "Some say he can be rather unnerving."
Scar didn't know how to respond to that. Hohenheim didn't seem to notice his silence.
"Now, I'm sure that you must be wondering as to why I have invited you into my car?" Hohenheim asked.
Scar nodded, not trusting his voice to speak.
"As Gregory said, this is a job interview."
Scar's eyes widened, was Van Hohenheim offering him a job?
"What kind of job?" He asked quietly. Finally regaining the ability to speak.
"A long term employment." Hohenheim said, "One that I promise will be very beneficial for you."
"What…what is it?" He asked.
"Protection, a bodyguard to be exact." Hohenheim said simply.
'A bodyguard?' Scar thought in surprise. Van Hohenheim was one of the most guarded people in the entire city. Why would he need another bodyguard? Especially someone like him.
"Sir." Scar spoke up. "I don't understand-"
"It's not for me." Hohenheim cut him off, leaning forward so that he was much closer. The shadows that the light created on his face gave him an eerie look. His golden eyes were shining darkly. They looked like the eyes of a dangerous predator. Scar couldn't tear his own eyes away, he'd never been one to be scared of someone. He'd always been able to beat down anyone who'd threatened him. People would flee the room if he so much as glared at them.
But right now none of that seemed to matter. Nothing he had ever done compared to the man in front of him. He wasn't even threatening him, yet Scar wanted to get out of this vehicle and run as fast as possible.
Hohenheim continued talking. "You know who I am. You know what I do. The bloodshed that's been littering our streets is going to come to an end very soon. Tonight is the night that I finalize my position in this city. And when this is accomplished I can finally enjoy the more pleasant aspects of my life. You see, my wife is pregnant." A warm smile ghosted its way onto Hohenheim's face. "Our first born son. I plan to have many more children with the woman I love and if I am to do that, I need to know that they will be protected."
Scar listened in silence as Hohenheim laid out his proposition to him.
"I'd like for a man who is strong and loyal to protect my family." Hohenheim said. "And I think that man can be you."
Scar stared at Hohenheim in stunned silence before he whispered out, "Why me, sir?"
"Because you had a family once." Hohenheim said. "You know what it is like to love and to lose."
Scar narrowed his eyes, how much about him did this man know?
"Your brother was a brilliant man." Hohenheim said. "But what he had in intelligence he lacked in action. He had potential, but it was never founded. Like your brother, you have unfounded potential."
Scar shook his head. His brother had been the special one, the smart one. The one who was supposed to go off to college and live a long happy life. He, on the other hand, was just a thug.
"Don't dismiss yourself too quickly." Hohenheim continued. "You recognize your abilities and you want to use them. Why else would you have gotten into this car?"
Scar spoke up, "What do you want me to do?"
"As I said, protect my family." Hohenheim said. "Protect them from those who wish to harm them, yet don't shelter them from the truth."
"What truth?" Scar asked.
"That people want to kill them." Hohenheim said. "People will want to kill them because of who they are and who I am. They must be able to accept this."
"I don't think I'm the right man for that job." Scar said nervously. "I can't keep children safe."
"Really?" Hohenheim said with a raised eyebrow. "When you used to attend school your teachers were especially praising of the way you protected your friends and those you cared about from bullies."
"That was different." Scar said quickly.
"How so?" Hohenheim asked.
"Because they were important to me. I needed to.." Scar trailed off as he saw Hohenheim's point.
Hohenheim took his silence to continue talking. "Are you tired of your life of stealing? Living in beatdown apartments? Looking over your shoulder for the cops every time you go outside? If so, I suggest you consider my offer."
Scar was silent, his gaze downcast. Eventually he looked up at Hohenheim who was patiently waiting for a response.
"I accept."
Hohenheim smiled and held his hand out. Surprised, Scar took the older man's hand and shook it. His grip was unsurprisingly strong.
"Once we've finished our business for the night, Gregory will draw up a contract of employment. It will include conditions and salary. This contract can be negotiable if you are unsatisfied with any of the details."
"Business?" Scar asked.
Suddenly the car stopped. Hohenheim's expression was now emotionless, and his eyes held a sudden fire.
"The real interview starts now."
The door next to Hohenheim opened and he climbed out. A now even more nervous Scar followed.
When he got out, Scar saw that they were at a warehouse in the industrial district. This particular warehouse was by the river.
Hohenheim put on a long brown coat and exchanged a few words with Gregory. Scar saw several other men around them, all dressed in black coats and hats. He counted about eight in all. He felt on edge again, something was about to go down.
Hohenheim turned to look at him.
"Follow me."
Hohenheim turned and headed towards the warehouse. Gregory and the men in black followed him. Scar stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, before following as well.
They were silent as they moved into the building. Hohenheim walked slowly, his hands in his coat pockets. Scar stayed in the back. The lights in the building were off when they entered. The doors revealed a long dark hallway. At the end of it was a faint light. Hohenheim continued on, not breaking in his stride. As he walked he raised his hand and signaled for Scar to join him. The men in black stepped aside as Scar moved forward. When Scar got to the front, he was startled by the look on Hohenheim's face. His eyes were blazing like a dark fire; his mouth a grim line.
"Do you remember the first man you ever killed?" He asked.
"Yes." Scar answered.
"As do I." Hohenheim answered. "Why did you kill yours?"
Scar was quiet for a moment before answering. "Because I had to."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"No." Scar turned his gaze to look at the man.
"I'm curious, what would it take for you to enjoy it?"
"If they made it personal." Scar answered honestly.
"Good answer." Hohenheim said.
Scar glared at one of the most powerful men in city. "Why are you asking me this?"
Hohenheim merely gave him a glance. "As I said, this is the real interview. And I do plan to enjoy it."
Before Scar could respond they'd reached the end of the hallway. Hohenheim pushed the door open and entered. Scar followed, looking around the room.
It was dark, large, and mostly empty. The only light was a single lightbulb in the center. Under the light sat a man in a chair. He was bound and had his head bowed, preventing Scar from making out his face. Around that man stood three more men dressed in black. Scar glanced at Hohenheim who was staring at the scene in front of him. Behind them, the other men in black had stopped as well.
Without a word, Hohenheim moved forward. The way he walked reminded Scar of a lion on the prowl. The man's golden mane only added to that comparison. The lone sound was the echoes of his footsteps. Scar felt a hand give him a small push and he looked back to see Gregory. The lawyer was now frowning and nodded in the direction of Hohenheim. Understanding, Scar followed.
The man in the chair lifted his head at the sound of the approaching footsteps. When they got close enough Scar recognized him as Basque Grand. Another one of the cities most powerful men. But from appearances it looked like that his power had run out.
"Hello Basque." Hohenheim spoke, his voice devoid of all emotion. "I trust your evening has been eventful?" As he spoke, one of the men in black dragged a chair out from the shadows. Moving swiftly he placed the chair in front of Grand and quickly faded back into the darkness. Hohenheim calmly sat down.
"I suppose I should be honored that you personally came here to see me off." Grand smirked as he looked up.
Hohenheim simply sat there and stared. His face neutral, but his eyes ablaze with anger.
"What?" Grand asked. "Not going to say anything?"
"You know why I came here." Hohenheim said.
"Oh, that." Grand sat up in his chair. "I kind of figured that would come back to bite me. Guess it's disqualified me from bowing down like the rest of them."
Hohenheim glared at the man in front of him.
"Now that shit was clever." Grand said. "I wish I had been the one to come up with that. How long did it take you to get all that dirt?"
Hohenheim was silent for a moment before he spoke; completely ignoring Grand's question. "I am not here to honor you as an opponent. I am not here because I respect you. I am here because of my position as a husband and a father."
"Knew it." Grand chuckled. "I really don't know why you're so fucking pissed off about that. She didn't even get hurt."
"You tried to kill my wife." Hohenheim said, his voice growing dark. "My pregnant wife!"
"All's fair in love and war." Grand said nonchalantly.
Hohenheim's face only got darker. "I've committed some of the worst acts that a person could ever do." He said. "But despite that, I personally believe that there are lines that you should never cross."
"You're a fucking fool then." Grand smirked.
Hohenheim's mouth formed a small smile. "If I'm the fool, why am I not the one tied to a chair?" Hohenheim leaned forward, the light creating eerie shadows on his face. "You're finished, Grand. Everything you've worked for; everything you have fought, bled, and killed for, is gone. This city is mine. From its filthiest gutter to the tallest skyscraper. It's all mine." Hohenheim stood up. "You on the other hand will have no legacy, not even a body for them to bury."
Grand let out a laugh. "What ever you say Van...so are you going to do it or what?" He asked.
"No." Hohenheim said. "I'm not."
Hohenheim turned to look at Scar and beckoned him to come closer. Surprised, Scar felt his legs move as he made his way over.
"Scar." Hohenheim said, placing his arm around the Ishvalan's shoulders. "I'd like to introduce you to Basque Grand."
Scar was once again at a lost for words. Grand stared up at him in confusion. Suddenly Scar felt something metal in his hand. He glanced down and saw a loaded pistol. He looked up at Hohenheim, questionably.
"Protect my family." Hohenheim said cooly.
"But don't you-?" Scar started to say.
"I don't let myself follow the whims of my emotions." Hohenheim responded. "And I must know, will you kill a man who has never done any harm to you? Will you kill a man simply because I have told you to?"
Hohenheim stepped back, his eyes staying on Scar. Scar watched Hohenheim step away then looked back at the gun. It was black and shining in his hand. The safety was off. Scar fixed his grip on the weapon and aimed it at the helpless man in front of him, his finger on the trigger. Grand tried to retain his composer as the gun was leveled directly in front of his face. Scar stared down at him. He'd never met this man before. He only knew him by reputation and from pictures in the newspaper. Nothing that this man had done had ever negatively affected Scar's life. Grand had never killed a friend of his. Grand had never taken anything from him. He had no cause whatsoever to murder Basque Grand.
Bang!
The shell of the bullet hit the ground as Basque Grand's corpse sank back in the chair. Blood flowed from the gaping hole between his eyes.
Scar was staring at the man who he had just murdered when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced over to see Hohenheim, whose face was unreadable.
"Do you wish to work for me?" He asked.
Scar nodded.
"Excellent." Hohenheim said, his face breaking into a warm smile. Scar stood there and stared at the smile. Strangely enough, the smile made him feel better. Killing never made him feel strong or powerful, but this smile did. It was like a small boy receiving acceptance from his father. He felt a bizarre sense of accomplishment.
"Time to go." Hohenheim took him around the shoulder and led him away from the scene. He glanced to the side as he saw men with bone saws and plastic wrap approaching the corpse. Looking away quickly, Scar followed his new boss out of the dark building. He became numb to everything around him as the full realization of the night's events hit him. He did not see Gregory come over to him or felt the lawyer shake his hand. He faintly heard Gregory and Hohenheim discussing an employment contract.
He looked around. At the men around them; the men whom he had joined. Joined in the service of a single man. A man who now held all the power that could ever be wanted in this city. Following this man would either lead to great reward or to a painful death. It was that cut and dry; that certain. He was taking a gamble that held the rest of his life in a scale that could very easily tip either way.
"Come Scar."
Scar looked up to see Hohenheim standing by the limo waiting for him.
"We'll need to get you a suit."
OoO
OoO
The TV provided background noise from the living room. In the kitchen, the soft sounds of the water running and the clanking of plates stood out.
"How did the school look?" The light blonde haired man asked his wife as he put the clean plates in the cabinet.
"It looked great." Blue eyes flashed in his direction as she scrubbed the plates in the sink. "The teachers are a bit of a mixed bag though. There's a nice elderly one who seems sweet, but the young one came off as a stiff."
The man chuckled. "I'm sure the two of you are going to get along great."
"Me?" The woman looked over. "I'm more worried about how you'd react if the two of you ever got at it."
"Come on Sarah." The man smirked. "Since when have I ever been overprotective."
Sarah finished with the plates and walked over to her husband wiping her hands. "Do you want me to list chronologically or alphabetically?" She stood on her toes to give her husband a quick kiss.
Urey Rockbell smiled as his wife walked away in her flower sundress. He put the rest of the plates away and followed her out.
When he entered the living room, Sarah grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer with a giggle. Urey grinned into the kiss as he ran his hand through his wife's long blonde hair and placed the other on the small of her back.
A loud, urgent banging at the door interrupted them.
The husband and wife both broke apart and stared at the door startled. The urgent banging continued unabated. The married couple's eyes locked together for a moment before Urey moved over to the door. Sarah stepped back to a drawer that was next to the family couch. Pulling a key from her pocket, she opened the drawer slightly to reveal a handgun. It was preloaded and her finger rested on the safety.
Urey stepped up to the door and looked through the peephole that he had installed.
"My god…" Urey gasped before quickly unlocking the door and flinging it open.
Sarah looked past her husband and her eyes widened at what she saw. There was a very large man standing in the doorframe. He was dressed in a black suit with a black dress shirt and red tie. His eyes were red as well and there was a large x shaped scar on his forehead. He was supporting another man who was bleeding rather heavily. It only took a moment for her to recognize the injured man as Van Hohenheim. Urey reacted immediately.
"Put him on the couch, Scar." Urey beckoned them to come in.
Sarah quickly grabbed a spare blanket and flung it on the couch, covering it just in time for the large scarred man to place Van down.
"Sarah." Urey looked at his wife. "Go get the equipment."
Sarah nodded and quickly exited out of the room. Urey moved over to the couch and kneeled down next to the injured man to examine him. Van's signature brown suit was ruffled and bloodied. His eyes were closed and his face a bit pale. The blood seemed to come from an apparent wound from his lower abdomen.
He looked up at Scar. "Gunshot wound?"
Scar nodded.
"Put pressure on it; I'll be right back." Urey quickly left the room and moved to the kitchen to wash his hands. When he came back he found Sarah setting up a tray of their medical tools. She tossed him a surgical mask and a pair of latex gloves. Once they were on, he stepped back to his patient. The room was now full of men in black suits. Outside he could see men standing in his front yard. Several of them held weapons and appeared to be guarding the premises.
'Please.' Urey thought desperately. 'Please let Winry sleep through all of this.' He then cleared his thoughts and focused on the bleeding man lying on his couch.
"Keep him down." Urey ordered Scar as Sarah, also gloved and masked, moved to his side and began to cut away Van's shirt with a pair of scissors. Underneath it was a bulletproof vest with a tiny bullet hole near the bottom.
"I can keep myself still."
Urey looked down at his friend when he heard his voice. Van had his eyes opened and was looking up at him.
"Long night Van?" Urey sighed as he pulled the injured man up to remove his vest, coat and other shirts.
"You could say that." Van barely winced as he was placed back down on the couch, now topless. "It's good to be the king." He joked dryly.
Urey surveyed the wound. The bullet had pierced Van's vest and punctured his lower abdomen. Since there were no blood stains on the back of Van's jacket, the bullet was still inside of him. Sarah held a light as he apprached the injury with a pair of forceps. The vest had taken the brunt of the impact so there would be little internal damage and the bullet itself did not look to be very deep.
"Am I going to live?" Van asked bluntly.
"As your doctor I recommend that you stop talking." Urey said. "And that you should be at a hospital."
"No hospitals." Van said.
"Who did this-" Urey was cut of by Van talking.
"Scar, is my family safe? Are the children secured?"
Scar nodded. "Yes sir." He spoke in monotone voice. "Mrs. Hohenheim is with them at the mansion. All guards are at the perimeter. They are secure."
"Has anyone informed her about what happened?" Hohenheim spoke like he was talking in his office rather than on a couch with a gunshot wound.
"Not yet, sir." Scar answered. "Shall I get a phone?"
"No." Hohenheim shook his head. "I'll tell her myself, in person, when we arrive home."
"Don't be too eager to be moving around." Urey said as he stretched the wound further to get to the bullet. Hohenheim's breath hitched a little, but his face betrayed no emotion.
"I can give you painkillers." Urey looked at his friend.
"No." Hohenheim ordered. "We have a very time sensitive window and I need a clear head."
"Well then settle in because this is going to hurt." Urey warned as he moved the forceps in.
Again Hohenheim hissed, but gave no other sign that he was in pain.
"Fu." He ordered. Behind Urey, a short, middle aged Xingese man stepped forward. "Did you take any survivors?"
"Yes sir." Fu answered. "One of them only received a glance to his leg and is in perfect condition to be questioned."
"Do it." Hohenheim said darkly. "Then when you're finished take what's left of him and put him in the landfill. If he's still alive by then, leave him." He paused for a moment as Urey fiddled with his bleeding wound. "Scar, send a message to Edison and Clemin. Have them crack down on Madison street and Clement avenue. The shooting that occurred on those streets was nothing more than recent violence by petty unaffiliated criminals. I want that in the newspapers tomorrow as well as a report about the growing tensions among lone wolf thugs in recent weeks. Tonight never happened"
Urey and Sarah both kept quiet as talks of cover up and murder occured around them. It was nothing that they hadn't heard before. They both froze, however, when they heard a small tired voice.
"Mommy? Daddy?"
All eyes in the room turned towards the source of the voice. Standing at the top of the staircase and staring at the scene in front of her was a little girl. She was clad in feety pajamas that had various animals on them. She had blonde hair like her father and bright blue eyes like her mother. Those eyes were wide and confused as they stared at the injured man on her couch.
Sarah and Urey locked eyes before she nodded. Shedding herself of her mask and gloves, Sarah stood and quickly made her way across the room. Van's men parted for her as Sarah quickly made her way over to her daughter and scooped her up.
"Sweetie, what are you doing up at this hour?" She whispered in her daughter's ear as she turned the little girl away from the scene in the living room. "Its way past your bed time."
"I heard noises…what's going on Mommy?" The little girl said as she tried turning her head back to the living room.
"Nothing, sweetie." Sarah cooed as she walked up the stairs back to her daughter's room. "Daddy's helping a friend."
Urey watched his wife take their daughter back to her room before sighing and resuming his work. After several more minutes of careful searching he finally found the bullet.
"Alright Van, I've found the bullet. It's three inches deep, there doesn't appear to be many bullet fragments or damaged organs. The fragments themselves should be easy to remove."
Van's expression didn't change. "Well Doctor, what are you waiting for?"
Urey shook his head and turned back to the wound with a pair of tweezers. Slowly and methodically, he reached into the open wound and eventually grasped the bullet.
"I am now removing the larger bullet fragment." Urey announced to no one in particular. The entire room had gone silent, Scar and Fu had backed the rest of Hohenheim's men out of the living room in order to give Urey space to work.
"Winry's getting big." Van commented out of the blue.
Despite his earlier statement of no talking, Urey wanted to take Van's mind off the pain. Though he really didn't want to discuss his daughter with this man, even if they were old friends.
"She's four now." Urey said quietly as he continued to work on the injury.
"Four?" Van had a small smile on his face. "Same age as Edward." He finished with a chuckle.
Urey simply nodded.
"I'm sorry, Urey." Van said. "I'm sorry she had to see all of this. But you were the only one I could come to."
"No hospitals, huh?" Urey said. "Trying to save face?"
"Let's just say it's beneficial to keep news of this injury contained."
"So how did this happen?" Urey asked.
"Someone aimed a gun and pulled the trigger." Van gave a crooked smile.
Urey sighed. "After everything we did…I thought all this was over. The random violence I mean."
"It's never over." Van's face was once again serious. "There will always be those who want power and they are more than willing to do anything to attain it."
"I take it those that wanted power today are no longer with us?" Urey said with a humorless chuckle. He started sewing the wound shut.
"Not for long." Van answered. "I trust you to keep this visit a secret."
"I don't want any problems for my family." Urey said. "I'm going to be chief of surgery at Central hospital soon. Plus, Winry's about to start school. We have a good thing going here, I don't want any of it to change."
"They won't." Van promised. "I'll stay away."
"Winry is going to live a normal life." Urey said with narrowed eyes. "I don't want her safety to be affected by anything that we did."
"She will, my friend." Van put a hand on Urey's arm. "Your child will never be harmed because of me."
Urey looked into the golden eyes of his old friend and patted the hand on his arm.
"Thank you, Urey."
Urey looked at Van. "Don't mention it Van."
"There's something else I want to ask of you." Hohenheim whispered before he looked back at the staircase. Urey looked over to see Sarah coming down. She gave Urey a nod, telling him that Winry was asleep. Hohenheim pulled Urey back closer.
"I want you to have it."
OoO
OoO
Ding
The bell above the door rang as it opened, telling everyone in the small shop that someone has either entered or exited.
A young man looked at the short list that he had made for himself. It wasn't much. Some bread, apples, oranges, and….milk?
"Screw you, Envy." The golden eyed man bunched up the piece of paper and stuffed it into a pocket of his black leather coat. The offending word was written in large, uneven letters. Under it was a distorted smiley face.
Irritated, the young man moved through the door to collect the items that he actually came here for. Moving from aisle to aisle he collected them. Personally, he liked getting food at small establishments like this. It was easier for him to blend in. In the bread aisle there was a little middle aged woman trying to get some cornbread at the top of the shelf. Reaching up, he grabbed one and handed it down to her. Smiling gratefully, the woman took it and put it in her basket. The young man returned the smile and moved to get the rest of his groceries. When he was done, he got in line for checkout. He took his phone out when he felt it vibrate. It was from Alphonse.
Dad needs you here tonight. No skipping, I mean it!
The young man sighed and answered.
Doesn't he have enough people for tonight? Fine! I'll be there.
"Hey buddy, come on! There's a line behind you."
The young man glanced up to see a impatient bald man standing at the cashier. The bald man opened his mouth to say something else, but froze when he got a good look at the young man in front of him.
The golden hair and golden eyes were dead giveaways.
"M-Mr. H-H-Hohenheim!" The man stuttered. "I mean Elric, no wait! I didn't know it was you! I..I.I-"
"It's fine." Edward Elric said with a sigh. "Just let me buy these." He put his groceries on the surface.
"No!" The man said. "No need, I mean. You can have it all, it's free."
Edward was about to open his mouth when suddenly a car loudly pulled up next to the store. He turned to look at it through the large window. A car window opened and some guy stuck his upper body out of it. He looked like some street punk with weirdly colored hair.
Suddenly the punk pulled out a gun and aimed it at the store.
Edward's eyes widened before he dove to the ground. Several shots rang out in succession as glass shattered and people screamed. Ed suddenly felt a wet substance land on him, and he heard the familiar thudding sound of a body hitting the ground. Looking up from his position on the floor, he saw the middle aged woman whom he had helped earlier. She was dead with a bullet hole in her head.
Anger filled Ed as he heard the sound of car's occupants laughing and the car driving away. Ed sprang to his feet, his hand moving under his coat. He jumped over the apple stand, using it to propel himself through the frame of the shattered window. He landed on the street, his coat flowing behind him. In his hand he held his signature silver Beretta 92FS. Standing up from the ground, he saw the car driving away. The car was moving erratically, swerving from side to side.
Walking into the middle of the road, Edward carefully took aim. He held the large handgun for several moments before he fired.
The back left tire of the car exploded. The vehicle, already driving recklessly, spun out of control and swirled to the side walk. It hit the curve and rode up the side of a street lamp. The car flipped and landed on its back with a loud crash.
Edward stared at the crash for several moments in surprise. Around him, people on the sidewalk were running away and those in their cars were swerving quickly to get away.
Later, if any of their friends had asked. They'd say that they didn't see a damn thing.
Groaning from the wrecked car caught Edward's attention. With narrowed eyes, he started to cautiously walk towards the crash. His arm at his side as he held the gun.
He walked slowly, the only sounds were the distant noises of the city and the thud of his boots against the pavement.
One of the windows of the car was suddenly kicked out. It was followed by one of the car's dazed occupants climbing out. The front of his face was covered in blood and he stood on shaky feet; a pistol clutched sloppily in his hand. Edward recognized him as the weirdly colored one who had had been shooting. Lifting his gun, Edward didn't hesitate as he pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the man right in the chest and propelled him to the ground. Edward lowered his weapon and continued to walk towards the car. As he walked around the wreck he saw that the driver had been flung through the windshield. His corpse was laying about 10 feet away from the car, a long smear of blood following him.
Shaking his head at the gruesome scene; Ed sat down on the curve. The gun coming to a rest on his thigh. He gave a sigh and clenched his eyes shut; the adrenaline was still running through his body. A pained moan caught Ed's attention. Opening his eyes, Edward saw another body was hanging out of the windshield on the passenger's side. Glass was embedded in the man's face and in one of his eyes. The way his neck was twisted told Ed that it was broken. Still, by the way that he was moaning, Ed could tell that he was in incredible pain. There was a large pool of blood forming under the man. This guy wasn't going to make it to the hospital. Ed's free hand touched the blood stain on his coat, the blood of the old woman from the store. Ed distantly thought of how he'd left his groceries back in the store.
With a sigh, Ed pushed himself up and strolled over to the front of the wreck. The guy was still moaning and gasping in pain. His face was angled so that Ed could see the damage. He could also see the guy's remaining good eye. It was dilated.
"Coked up assholes." Ed muttered as he looked down at the man. Actually man didn't really describe him; he couldn't be older then 19. The sounds of police sirens were slowly getting louder, but Ed remained unconcerned.
"Please…" The man in the car begged as his watery blood shot eye looked at Ed.
Silently, Ed raised his gun and pulled the trigger.
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So that's the first chapter of this story. It's great to finally get this story going. I hope you liked it. After Princess Bride, I wanted to do something different so I decided to do a crime story. I've noticed there are several stories where Ed's a police officer or is some form of law enforcement. I thought it would be interesting if someone did the opposite of that.
This story is going to be darker than Princess Bride and I think Little Lambs. It's going to be more graphic and the characters are going to be darker. But don't worry, I'll try to keep them likable enough. I'm sure you all can handle some dark characters. This is going to be an interesting story to write and I hope I can pull it off. And of course this is going to be an eventual slow burn EdWin. I don't know if I could make a FMA fic without them. I'm not sure about other pairings but we'll see.
Please review and give me your feedback on this chapter and the story idea. I'm still developing some parts of this, so suggestions are greatly appreciated. Thank you, I hope you all enjoy this story.
Mediafan