Chapter 2

Two years later…

Seventeen-year-old Emily ran around the corner into an alley. She had nowhere else to run. She spun around to see Nightmare pound her in the face with his fist. She fell to the ground. Nightmare wore a big, black cloak. Nightmare's nails grew and sharpened in the blink of an eye. He slashed at Emily as she rolled out of the way. The nails sliced her in the arm, and she screamed in pain. She quickly got up and ran for the fire escape. Nightmare jumped up into the air and landed right in front of her. He picked her up by the throat.

"Why are you doing this?" she wheezed.

Nightmare smiled. "Because I want to."

Marion Brown was a State Alchemist and had invited the now Private Ethan to lunch at her favourite restaurant in Central. "So, Major Brown," Ethan began, "why did you invite me to lunch?"

"As you know, there's a new serial killer on the loose," Brown said.

"Nightmare?"

"Yes, and we need you to catch him."

Ethan's eyes widened. "What!" he screeched. "I'm only a Private! Why not send a State Alchemist?"

"Oh, we are, but you're tagging along."

"Why do I have to go!"

"To make sure he doesn't kill him."

"Why don't you want him dead?"

"Because, the Führer wants to know how he can perform such powerful alchemy."

"Why send me to go with him, though? I can't even perform alchemy!" It's true. Ethan couldn't perform alchemy. No one knows why.

"I told you. You're just there to keep the alchemist from killing Nightmare."

Ethan's head and shoulders slumped. "Fine," he said reluctantly.

"Good."

"Who's the alchemist?"

"Logan Anderson, better known as The Cold-Hearted Alchemist."

Ethan jumped back. "But he's scarier than Nightmare!"

"That is true, but he's the only one who won't run away."

"Do I even have a choice?"

"Would you like one?"

"It would be nice."

"Too bad." Major Brown got up and walked for the door. "When you get any information, you'll report into Colonel Mustang. Oh, and by the way…" She turned to face Ethan. "Thanks for picking up the tab." She winked before walking out the door.

Ethan raised one eyebrow in confusion. The waitress came over and put a piece of paper on the table. Ethan fell forward and slammed his face on the table. "I can't believe the nerve of some people."

"You pay that when you're ready," the waitress said before walking off. Ethan sighed.

After Ethan payed the bill and returned back to his apartment, he started walking for his bed. Then, he heard a knock at the door. He sighed, turned around, and walked back for the door. The knocking continued. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" He opened the door. There, standing in the hallway, was The Cold-Hearted Alchemist. Ethan screamed and slammed the door shut.

"That was my nose, moron," Logan growled.

Ethan opened the door again. "What do you want?"

"I was assigned to track down Nightmare with you."

"Yeah, but it's so late!"

"It's two in the afternoon."

Logan pulled out his pocket watch and showed Ethan. "Shut up," Ethan grumbled with a frown.

Logan slipped the watch back in his pocket. "Now, come on, we got to go."

"How about this—you look for him and I'll hold down the fort."

"How about no?"

"I don't like that idea."

"Shame."

Two minutes later, after Ethan 'fell down some stairs,' they made their way to, hey, wait a minute. "Where are we going?" asked Ethan.

"To the last victim of Nightmare," Logan answered.

There was an awkward silence for a while.

Oh, Logan thought, how I love the stark beauty of silence. I hope it never—

"So," Ethan interrupted, "why do they call you The Cold-Hearted Alchemist?"

Well, it lasted longer than I thought it would. "Because I can lower a persons body temperature below freezing point, forcing their heart to stop."

"Huh."

"Well," said Logan as he spun around to face Ethan, "that and I don't show mercy!" Ethan swallowed hard. "But mainly the first thing."

"Who do you think Nightmare is?"

"I don't like you."

Ethan's shoulders slumped. "Five minutes and I already feel like sh-"

"We're here."

Ethan looked around. They were in an alley full of police officers. "I don't get it."

Logan pointed to the fire escape on the side of an apartment building. There, on the bottom of it, was a teenage girl. Her arm was jammed between two of the grates, causing her to just hang there. Ethan gagged. "I warned you."

"No you didn't!"

"I know."

"Good afternoon, Mister Anderson," a police officer greeted.

"See? I told you it's the afternoon," Logan said.

"I know," Ethan sighed. "We've been over this."

The officer shifted his gaze between Ethan and Logan. "Right, anyway, we were wondering if you could-" Logan pushed past the officer and stood underneath the girl.

Ethan hurried along next to Logan. "So, what do you think?" Logan asked.

"I think she's dead," Ethan joked.

"That was funny. Oh, wait, no, the other thing. Idiotic. That's it."

Ethan sighed. "What do we hope to gain from just looking at the corpse?"

"She has claw marks on her arm."

"Oh."

"She looks like she'd been knocked around before he finished her off."

Ethan chuckled. Logan shot him a piercing stare. "Well, we should go."

Logan looked at him. "Why?

"I was told that whenever we get some new information, we have to report into Colonel Mustang."

"No."

Ethan raised one eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no." Logan towered over Ethan.

"We were ordered to go."

"What are you going to do?"