The Gates Of Hell Beneath Central

I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or The Beyond. The Beyond is the property of the late Italian Godfather Of Gore, Lucio Fulci. I forget the name of the guy who made FMA. I only own this plot. Please review after every single chapter, or else I won't update. And no flames. Enjoy.

1. Prologue

Central Headquarters, 1857

The night was as dark as it could ever be in human nightmares. A small ballad of crickets chirped through the night. The large monolith of wood that was the old Central Military Headquarters stood in the shadows of the old sleeping city, with the lights of its torches and indoor lamps shining through its windows. What nobody who was on the streets knew, was that a small band ofcity citizens were all quietly marching through the coblestone streets, all heading toward the military headquarters. Anyone who could catch a glimpse of these mens faces in the lights on the streets, could see these men had looks of utmost fear and anger in their flaming eyes.

Inside Central headquarters' civilian wing

A young blonde woman was walking out of the doorway of her living quarters. The woman wore a light blue coat that was big enough to cover her legs. She walked slowly through the shadow filled halls of her room. She jumped slightly from instant fear when a loud crack of lightning roared through her windows. She walked a little more quickly until she had reached her living room. The lightning continued flashing, as if it were a ghostly lantern, trying to lead this woman to an unknown destination. She stopped in her tracks once she had reached the lamp stand of her living room. Her view slowly turned to be facing below her, and she had instantly noticed...an old weathered book laying on her table. She ha dnever seen it, and she had never before touched it. It's cover looked like it hadn't been used for hundreds of years, and one word was written on that cover in rusty metal plates: EIBON.

Elsewhere in the civilian wing

A bony man with short messy dark brown hair stood alone in a lonely room filled to the brim with painting utencils. The man wore an old grey vest over a white sleeve shirt two times too big for him. The man stood in front of his current piece of work. The painting held a horrific image of a grey wasteland with dozens of mummified bodies strewn across the landscape.

In the streets

The gathered citizens had all quickly reached the front of the Central Headquarters, and they remained where they stood, as if in a trance to watch the building, or waiting. As soon as they had reached their destination, a distant sound of hoofbeats rang through the silence of the city. To the west of the HQ, three small horsedrawn carriages came galloping to a stop to the men. As soon as those carriages stopped, a larger number of citizens stepped out. They all immediately reunited into one small army of men. If anyone was able to pay attention to detail, one would notice that all the men seemed to be planning something in whisper, and they all carried crowbars and chains. The men all quietly nodded their heads in some kind of agreement, and they all filed into the building through the front door.

In the womans' room

The woman had decided to examine this strange book that somehow found its way into her room. The lightning repeated quickly enough for the woman to read the inscriptions within the ancient pages of the book. She looked with horrified wonder in her eyes as she read the verses aloud. "Within these pages, I have gathered all the prophecies of Eibon. From generation to generation, for more than 4,000 years."

In the lobby

The men all marched single file into the loby of the military base. It had appeared quite obvious as to why no one had stopped these men. It was because the only guard in the room was sleeping seeing as the time was no later than midnight. The men all marched up the stairwell ahead of them, trying their best to remain silent. The men all marched into the main hallway of the civilian wing in no time. Before they could have done anything, a man in front of the group, a short man with messy long blonde hair and a curly blonde mustache stopped their proceeds and pointed them to a door at the end of the hall they faced. Only two numbers plated onto the door. Obviously, this was revealed to be their target, their destination: Room 36.

In Room 36

The skinny painter stood where he remained, slowly ading more detail to his disturbing masterpiece. When he had dipped his brush into the paint for the night, a loud, forceful banging erupted through the silence of his room. After three bashings, the door quickly swung off it's hinges. The painter darted to his back, with paralyzed fear written all over his sweating face. A large group of what looked like local men all slowly walked into his room, all of them containing fire within their eyes. Fires of hatred and fear. The painter struggled to find words to speak, but he was too late when the man who had revealed his room spoke, revealing himself to be their leader. "You ungodly WARLOCK!!" the man growled. He lifted up his chain into a swinging position. If any of the men drew their attention to the end of this mans' chain, they would have seen there was a large meat hook tied to the end. The man swung his deadley weapon, as it impacted with the terrified painters' cheek, making a hideous tearing sound. The artist careened back into a wall as a reaction, a hideous bleeding gash replacing his left cheek. The men all swarmed around the poor artist as they continued to swing at him with their similar whip-chains, enough to make the man suffer, but not enough to kill him. The men all sneered their reasons of hatred as they continued to beat the man. "It is because of you that this town, and this whole home of the army, it shall be cursed forever!"

The womans' room

The woman continued to read the mysterious book that read EIBON, unaware of the disaster occuring elsewhere in the building. She read the next verse with a horrified expression of realization in her eyes. "The seven dreaded gateways, are concealed within seven cursed places. Woe be unto him who ventures near without knowledge."

The basement

The men had finally had their share of whipping the suffering artist, so now, the men had all caried the poor artist into the building's basement, which was accesible by a rusty metal stairway, that led into an underground chamber that resembled more of a cave than a basement.Very few of the men listened as the artist groaned his words of reason to these violent men. "Be-be careful what you men do! Because this base was built...over one of the seven doors of evil, only I could be able to save you!" None of the men listened to the mans' words. They reached a small corner of the cave, and gave the artist his greeting, by tossing his blood covered body to the floor. Before he could recover from impact, more and more whippins of metal hooks were made with his left shoulder, his right side, and his right kneecap. The man groaned in unbearable agony. The men all ignored his cries of pain as they grabbed his arms and lifted him up to a corner of the wall. The man bowed his head down, not wishing to see what more tortures these barbarians had in mind. If only he had looked, because uneknownst to him, the men had also carried down a vat of bubbling pale liquid, and a bag filled with something made of metal. The men all emptied the ag, and it wasn't one metal thing, but several large metal railroad spikes. The man kept panting, trying to remain conscious from his blood loss, but he instantly felt a fire urning in his wrists as a hammer slammed the nails into both his wrists, crucifying him to the wall. The painter began to silently pray, making his peace with God, as it was now inevitable for him to die. The men all gathered and watched his pained form. Their leader never spoke a word, but instead he had grabed a small bowl and dipped it into the vat of bubbling liquid. The man gave one more hateful glare at the painter, and wordlessly swung the liquid into the painters' face. The liquid instantly foamed up on impact, and a horrific sizzling sound could be heard underneath, as the foam began turning red, and blood began pouring like a waterfall from the painters' face. Two more men swung two more bowls of this apparent acid onto the painter, and they all turned and began to place brick upon brick in the passageway to the cave, not once turning to look at the painters' dissolving face. They all finally left this cave without a word when their wall had finally been completed. But unbeknownst to them, inside the painters' tomb, a strange symbol that resembled a cross on top, but a swirly snake on the bottom had somehow become engraved into the wall next to the painter's body.

In the womans' room

The woman had finally reached the final verse of the book, and this verse, she read out loud, so that she could believe this horrific prophecy the book was foretelling. "Woe be unto him who opens one of the seven gateways to Hell, because through that gateway, evil will invade the world."

Well, that was the prologue of this terrifying story. Review, please, review for me! I tried hard with this. No flames, too.