Ed swore he had a headache the size of Drachma and Xing combined. It felt as if hundred of mini-Ed's were hammering pickaxes into his skull, and it hurt more than the annoying Colonel's stupid voice.
He couldn't open his eyes. He was too tired, and his whole body ached. What happened...?
Ah yeah... Lieutenant Colonel Ollivander wanted me to transfer... and... when I didn't, he... oh.
Oh. Just oh. One would've thought the kid would've been panicking or even terrified at the thought of being kidnapped, but really, this wasn't the first time he'd been kidnapped. At that point, he was just exasperated at these idiot's attempts to kidnap the Fullmetal Alchemist. He normally managed to escape within an hour or so, or the military police would've arrived by then.
At least Ollivander was smart enough to remove the Automail, Ed thought to himself, taking note of the lack of weight where his right arm and left leg should've been. Though whenever that happened, his limbs were sometimes just laying in the corner or on a table in the same room, if the kidnapper was stupid enough.
He didn't like the idea of being kidnapped, it was troublesome, and not to mention annoying. Slowly, Ed forced his eyes to open, but he still felt half-dead at that point, feeling as if his mere eyelashes were ten pounds each.
Everything was blurry, but he could make out a dark grey blob below, which he assumed was the floor. There was a glowing orange thing off to the left, with rusty reds around it, and Ed guessed that to be a fireplace. He was up against the wall with his only remaining arm wrenched above his head, and after twisting it around a bit, he could conclude that it was tied up with what felt like a rough rope. Despite the fireplace being there, it was pretty cold, considering he had been stripped of his coat, jacket, and boots. Although there was something warm dripping down his face...
Wait... is that blood...? That explains the headache...
He blinked a bit, trying to clear up his vision. It didn't help whatsoever, and it confused him a bit, why can't I see properly?
Frowning, the boy shook his head, but that only served to make his headache even worse. Good going Ed...
He almost missed the footsteps that were approaching him. He looked up, squinting to see two bright blue dots on a mass of cream, gray, and black. "Ah, I see you're awake," the blob said.
Oh wait... that's... what's his name? Ah yeah, Ollivander... Ed realized, immediately sending the Lieutenant Colonel a glare. Or at least the best one he could manage when he couldn't see all that well.
"Ah, ah, ah," Ollivander the Blob said, kneeling down in front of the Alchemist as if he were lightly scolding a naughty child. It grated on Ed's nerves so damn much. "Don't give me that look, Fullmetal." Now a bit closer, Ed could faintly see he was smirking at him. Just what does he want?!
Patting Edward on the head as if he was a little kid, Ollivander simply said, "Now, I'm going to tell you once more, tell me the secrets to Flame Alchemy."
Ed spat in his face. "Go to hell." He growled, letting the light from the fire reflect on his golden irises, making them seem like molten lava.
Ollivander froze, staring at the kid in disbelief. His smirk slowly dropped into a scowl accompanied by a glare, as he wiped off the spit. "I see how it is, then."
With that, he punched the kid in the gut.
The air was violently knocked out of his lungs, and Ed immediately started coughing and gasping, only for Ollivander to deliver another blow.
Ed kicked and yelled, thrashing against his restraints, which only resulted in the skin on his wrist getting rubbed raw against the rough texture of the rope, letting blood drip down in arm.
The hits hurt. The bruises left ached. It all left him sore.
Oh, he's going to get it when I get out of here, Ed thought, internally grinning. He's really gonna get it.
...o0o...
Ed assumed about three days had passed since he was dragged there. Though he couldn't really tell. There were no windows, and by that point it didn't even matter.
There was a cloth tied tightly around his head, blinding his completely. He was stuck in the dark, and he hated it. He couldn't see. He couldn't tell where he'd get hit, so he couldn't brace himself properly.
It was dark. Black. Empty.
He hated it.
He hated not being able to see, to know what's happening with ease.
He had tried escaping by the second day, having scratched a circle into the wall with his nails, which had hurt a lot, by the way. He managed to free himself from the rope, but the issue was he couldn't walk. He only had one leg, so that left him lost. He tried crawling out of the, now confirmed to be a basement, to freedom.
That plan was completely busted however, when Ollivander chose that exact moment to come downstairs. Oh how Ed hated his luck.
He was quickly dragged back to where he was before, kicking and yelling and trying to get a punch in.
Until Ollivander decided to nail his arm to the wall.
There were now three long, neat nails embedded into the boy's arm and the wall it was pinned to, one in his hand, one in his forearm, and one in his bicep, and holy hell it hurt. Any movement sent sharp flares of pain up and down his arm and through his body, his nerves felt like they were on fire.
After a few hours of trying not to scream from merely trying to twitch a finger, Ollivander came down again.
He tried learning more about Flame Alchemy once more. Ed, once more, refused.
He ended up with a broken rib, several bruises, and a split lip.
On the third day, yesterday, during Ollivander's little interrogation, he had brought a little toy with him.
A knife.
A simple, small, sharp kitchen knife, dripping with what looked like water.
It wasn't water.
The Lieutenant Colonel has simply made small cuts on his face, torso, leg, and arm. That last one hurt more than he liked to admit. They were small, but they hurt as if he had gotten stabbed twelve times each then melted shut with lava.
"A little drug I made." Ollivander had said proudly, admiring the bloodied knife with sick satisfaction, "It just amplifies the pain in a wound tenfold."
More like a thousand, Ed thought bitterly.
The cutting had continued, until Ed eventually bit him.
Hard.
Ollivander had screamed, and Ed had spat out a chunk of blood and flesh he had bitten off. The kid ended up blindfolded, because, "I cant gag you, I need you to talk when you tell me about Flame Alchemy."
'When'. Not 'If'.
That man sure was confident, huh?
Mustang, come on, hurry up with the rescue party already!
He didn't want to admit it, but this time around he needed help. He was blindfolded, missing two limbs, one of his remaining ones was technically useless, and that broken rib was making it harder to breathe.
Please... help...
...o0o...
It was now the fourth day, and the concussion Ed had received four days ago was practically killing him. His head pounded, his brain felt like exploding, he couldn't breathe...
"Hm, you seem to be getting dirty."
Since when had he gotten here? Ed felt a hand grab a handful of his now loose and greasy hair, he lost the hair tie a while ago.
There was a small hum coming from the man, who eventually let go of the kid's hair, and got up.
Ed strained his ears, hearing Ollivander shuffle around the basement a bit. He heard something drop to the floor, and get dragged over to him.
"You're going to need a shower."
What the hell does that m-
A sudden burst of cold- no, freezing water crashed against his sore skin, making him yelp in surprise. Holy shit it's cold turn it off turn it off turn it off-
Ed immediately backed up against the wall as far as he could, as the spray of ice cold water came down on him, stinging his skin and making the pain in his head nearly unbearable.
He tried to scream. He tried to tell the man to stop. But all he got was a lungful of water.
He choked, coughing and trying to get away. He curled up, shaking, wanting to just melt into the wall.
The movements made the pain flare up in his arm, reminding him there were nailing in hi, making sure he couldn't get away.
After what felt like an eternity, but in reality was probably only ten minutes, Ollivander turned off the hose he had dragged down there, leaving Ed shivering, and dripping wet.
"Now that that's over with," Ollivander said with a grin, "Tell me the secrets of Flame Alchemy."
A full minute passed filled with silence, the only sounds being of the dripping water, shaky breathing, coughing, and flickering of the fireplace.
He turned the hose back on.
...o0o...
I'm drowning...
I can't breathe...
I can't see...
Help...!
I'm dying...!
Please... help me... dad...
...o0o...
At this point, Ed had lost count of the days. It felt like months. Months of the freezing cold water, the cutting, the nails, it all hurt.
But for all he knew, it had only been a few hours. Or even just a week or two.
He didn't know.
He couldn't even feel his arm anymore. Or the Automail ports. He wondered if he had frostbite... kinda doubtful, but still a possibility.
Edward could barely breathe. Each breath hurt, sending sharp flares through his chest. He had barely eaten either, he'd get one meal every other day, although they only consisted of stale bread and, if he was lucky, some cold stew.
Damn, he loved stew, but he couldn't let Ollivander know that, otherwise he wouldn't get any more. He didn't drink any of the water provided, he got enough of that from the 'showers'.
If he remembered right, he may get some stew today.
When he heard the footsteps coming, he knew to prepare himself for what was to come with that man. Likely cutting again, today.
It wasn't cutting.
...o0o...
No matter what they did, Ed silently swore to himself he wouldn't say anything about Flame Alchemy. He knew now why the Colonel had panicked, why he had said he shouldn't lean Flame Alchemy.
It was because he didn't want scumbags like this asshole to get their hands on it.
He knew that now, and so, he promised to never tell this bastard, no matter what he did.
But dang it was hard sometimes.
The 13 year old bit his lip in an attempt to not scream as he felt the burning hot blade press against his bloodied arm. He could literally feel the flesh melt and the blood boil, and holy shit it was agonizing-
"Come on Edward," Kevin Ollivander snarled, ripping the knife off of the kid's arm, peeling off some burnt flesh with it. "Tell me."
Ed was panting, shaking, near whimpering at that point. But he didn't say anything. The burns were pure agony, and he knew with Flame Alchemy, this asswipe would be able to wreak terror among the citizens. Edward couldn't afford to have that happen.
The scent of his own boiling flesh made him gag, and almost even puke. Thank goodness he couldn't actually see them.
"Little brat," Ollivander growled out. It was clear he was losing patience. "If you don't want me to make your miserable little pathetic life a living hell, I suggest you talk."
Ed didn't even bother to comment on the 'little' part. It hurt too much to even try.
"Hell...?" He slurred, gulping a bit. "T-try your worst... bastard... it won't e'vn compare t'wha I've l'ready gone through..."
He should've kept his damn mouth shut.
...o0o...
A/N: First time trying to write torture, yayyy... it's bad I know. But hey, at least I'm somehow updating really fast, and I don't know how or why! I guess I'm just on a writing spree lately... which means it'll wear off eventually. Well crap, imma have to write as much as possible while it's still going strong! Also, about the "shower" thing, I noticed a lot of torture/kidnapping fics mention nothing about hygiene, like, people, they need to shower too!
So yeah, please review and tell me how I did, I like torturing readers just as much as the characters.
And no. Ed never got his stew.