((Finally! This was a looooong chapter. To make up for chapter 3's shortness, I guess. xD Not much to say about this one...
Interesting side note, when I was telling my mom about this chapter and how I've killed off pretty much everyone but Hannah, she looked dead serious and said "Good job, Moffat." xD))
Roy and Hughes stood in a hallway in the Central City Hospital, waiting for the go-ahead to interview one of the few surviving victims. The girl, named Hannah Young, was quite a fighter. She was the only one of the survivors who was capable of being interviewed. The doctors had said that she had a good chance of recovering completely, even possibly getting automail. And she wanted to do what she could to aide the investigation.
Finally, the door creaked open. Roy jumped a little at the sound.
"You can come in now," said the nurse politely. The two soldiers nodded respectfully and went in.
The girl was propped up against the back of her hospital bed, covered in bandages, with an IV in her arm and a monitor by the side of the bed. Her long white hair was draped over the pillow, unbrushed and stained slightly red. There was a painfully obvious lack of arm, with only a shoulder wrapped in bandages; It reminded Roy of the first time he met Fullmetal. Back then he was just Ed, and had looked about the same. Except that he had a look of despair in his eyes, while this girl just looked… Angry. Maybe a little lonely, tired. But there was a definite look of anger in her reddish-brown eyes, a burning desire to get revenge on her attacker.
"Hi," said Hughes, smiling in that friendly Hughes sort of way.
"Hello," she replied.
"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, and my friend here is Colonel Roy Mustang. You're Hannah, right?" He offered his hand. She nodded and hesitantly shook it with her one remaining arm, then shook Roy's hand.
"Nice to meet you," she mumbled. She wasn't exactly shy, nor did she dislike the military officers, but she didn't quite like them either. She was also rather depressed, to say the least. Even so, she would do what she could to help them.
"We're just going to ask you some questions, ok?" Hughes explained. "And don't worry if you can't answer them." Hannah nodded again. Roy, meanwhile, said nothing. He'd rather let Hughes do the talking; he was much better with kids, even older kids like Hannah.
"To start off, how are you feeling?" he asked, smiling reassuringly. Hannah was surprised. She hadn't quite expected that.
"…Fine, I guess. The doctors said I'll survive. Maybe get automail." She shrugged, wincing a little.
"Glad to hear it. I'm sure you'll do great. Now then… Time for the serious stuff." He uncapped a pen. "You ready?"
"Yes."
"Ok. What were you doing when you were attacked?"
She thought about it. "Let's see… It was after school. I was on my way to my locker to pick up some things, and then I was going to head to the bar. It was probably about 5:00."
"And then what?"
"Someone came up from behind me and attacked me. I was unprepared… I tried to fight back, but whoever it was cut off my arm and then shoved me in my locker. I don't remember that."
Hughes nodded as he wrote it down, thinking. "Can you describe your attacker?"
"No, I couldn't get a good look. It all happened so fast. I think it was a woman, though… And probably young…"
"Could it have been one of the students?" Roy asked, finally speaking up. Hannah paused.
"…I think it's possible, yes." She nodded.
"How awful," Hughes muttered. "This case just gets worse and worse, doesn't it?" He sighed. "Anything else we should know?"
She paused to think about it. "Hmm… She mentioned something about a garden."
"A garden? What could that mean?" Roy asked, frowning.
"No idea," she admitted, shaking her head. "I wish I could tell you more, but that's all I know."
"Well, thanks," Hughes said, standing up. "And feel better, ok?"
"Thank you, sir," Hannah replied, waving as the two men prepared to leave.
"…Oh, and colonel?"
"Yeah?"
"Give them hell for me."
He smiled and nodded. "We will."
Just as they were about to turn the corner, Roy nearly crashed into Havoc, who was running at a speed probably completely against hospital protocol and looking quite exhausted.
"Havoc? What are you doing?" he asked, confused. "Did you… Run all the way here..?"
"It… Colonel…" he said inbetween gasps, leaning against the wall, "There's been another attack!"
"Well what are you waiting for, then? Let's go!" Roy almost-shouted, nearly forgetting they were in a hospital. Soon all three men were running through the hospital, shouting a quick "'Scuse us" at a shocked nurse, practically throwing themselves in the car. Roy started it before they even closed the doors, driving as fast as possible. If there was a speed limit, he didn't care. All that mattered was that they get to the scene of the crime as fast as possible.
~~~Tetopettenson~~~
Within moments they arrived at the school, easily hopping over the "Crime scene - keep out" tape. Riza and the others were already there- Always one step ahead of her work, that Hawkeye- and Roy, Hughes, and Havoc rushed to join them.
"What's going on?" Roy demanded.
"A girl has been found in her locker," Riza explained. "Her arm is missing."
"Dead?"
"Technically, no." She sighed. "There's very little chance she'll make it."
Roy bit his lip and stared at the ground, his hands clenched into fists. Hughes put a hand on his back.
"Hey… It's not your fault. There's nothing we could do."
"We could've saved her if we had gotten here earlier." He sighed, knowing there was no point in dwelling on the past, and looked up. "How long has she been there?"
"Approximately one hour, sir," Riza replied.
"Name?"
"Mikayla Hathaway."
"I'll look into it," Hughes announced.
So the two of them went to examine the body. It was a tall girl, most likely about 15 years old. Her long blonde pigtails hung off the stretcher, dragging in the mud, and her carefully manicured teal nails were turned red with blood. There was a clean cut where her arm had once been attached to her body, the shoulder bone exposed and stained blood red. Her other shoulder was bruised and she had scrapes up her legs and arm, as well as tears in her clothes, most likely from being violently shoved into the locker. Her pretty face was contorted in pain. Roy and Hughes watched respectfully as a soldier carefully draped a white sheet over her, confirming her death.
Roy clenched his fist in anger.
"I will put a stop to this," he vowed quietly.
