"Hey, Brother?" Alphonse asked, breaking the silence.
Edward regarded him with a lazy glance. "Yeah?"
"Do you think Sara is doing alright?"
"Who's Sara?"
"The waitress," he stated, his voice a bit clipped. His brother's brows raised in recognition. "We just met her."
"Oh yeah." He shrugged. "She's fine. Was just a bit shaken up after the fight; she can hold her own."
Al stared down at the ground as he walked, his armor clanging on the pavement. That's what he thought as well, but she just stood up all of a sudden and locked herself in the backroom. She had nodded to them, even smiled, before she went to change but her eyes looked…blank. It was as if she were in a daze. And he could have sworn that her voice was shaky when he bid her goodbye.
"Yeah. I guess."
The silence between them arose again.
"You owe me for this one, Colonel." Edward was giddy with smugness. It was only by coincidence that the train he got on was being hijacked, but nonetheless, he did singlehandedly (minus Alphonse) save the train, subdue the hijackers, and save all the passengers on it. Mustang owed him, and he knew it.
"Hearing you say that runs a chill down my spine…." Mustang sighed. "All right. So what do you want?"
Edward grinned. "You sure come right to the point." He sat forward, hands on his knees. "I need to know more about bio-alchemy. Where can I go around here for more information? Like a library or an expert?"
"Right now? You sure are in a hurry," Mustang said, but he stood up, walking toward his bookcase.
"My arm and leg aren't going to just grow back if I wait long enough!" Ed huffed, crossing his arms.
"It's been awhile since we saw each other. Why don't we have a cup of tea?" he asked absently.
Ed wasn't sure if he was serious or not but he spat out, "What's so fun about drinking tea with you?"
"I know it's here somewhere," Mustang muttered to himself, ignoring his comment. "Here it is." He turned around, leaning casually back on the bookcase, flipping through the file he procured. "'Chimera: an artificial fusion created by alchemically 'marrying' two genetically dissimilar life forms," he read. "In other words, there's a chimera researcher in this city." He tossed the file at Edward.
Luckily he caught it. He opened up to the page of the researcher's profile. "Shou Tucker, the 'Sewing Life Alchemist,'" Ed mumbled.
The phone rang, disrupting their conversation. Mustang walked to his desk, sat down, and answered it. "Eastern HQ, Colonel Roy Mustang speaking." After a moment, Ed could have sworn he saw his face contort into alarm, but his face relaxed into his usual stern stare again. "Understood." He hung up.
"Lieutenant," he announced. Riza Hawkeye looked up at him.
"Yes, sir?"
"I don't mean to have a fit," he gave her a pointed stare. "But you have to go take care of it."
"I'm on it, sir." She stood from her desk, saluted, and with giving a quick nod to the Elric's she hurriedly left the room.
Ed's eyes narrowed. "You're making her do your work for you, again? Lazy bastard," he said. "What was that about, anyway?"
"It was nothing. Hawkeye is handling it," he responded curtly. Ed stared at him; it didn't seem like nothing. "So, Shou Tucker…."
7. A "fit" is a bloodlust reaction.
I leaned on the pole for support, my body weak and trembling. I could barely breathe without being reminded of that putrid scent. Normally the sunlight would be a comfort on my cold skin, but it hurt my eyes and I felt as though I was burning from the inside out. Where is she?!
A car came bounding down the street, just a little bit above the speed limit. It came to a screeching halt at the curb and the door was thrown open, Aunt Riza's face like a beacon of hope to me. I jumped in and she began driving before I could even manage to shut the door properly.
I ripped the Sara wig off, my raven black hair spilling down my shoulders and sticking to my forehead from sweat. I panted, each breath I took in deep and shaky as I roughly rammed my head into the headrest behind me.
"Dammit!" I cursed, clawing at the seats, searching for anything to dig my fingers into.
"How bad is it?" she asked, looking at me from the corner of her eye.
I laughed, but the pain caused me to grimace quickly after it. "You don't want to know."
"How bad is it?" she repeated, her voice sharper. I knew not to test this tone.
"It feels like I'm burning from the inside out," I described. "My throat is so dry I can barely breathe. All I can hear is your heartbeat and I can't stop staring at your neck and please don't make me say it." Her jaw tightened. "Aunt Riza please—"
In a flash her gun was cocked and pointed at me.
I settled back into my seat.
We finally get to her apartment complex and she slammed her door shut, running around the front of the car, her gun aimed at me the entire time. When she opened my door, she was cautious, quickly jumping back. I got out the car sluggishly, shutting the door behind me. I walked forward, her gun digging into my back the entire way there. It took all my energy to climb up the stairs but, I managed. Just as we practiced, she ushered me into her room, locking the door behind her. She then walked me to her closet, holding her gun in one hand and her handcuffs in the other.
"Are those silver?"
8. Silver is the one metal vampires cannot break. Wounds inflicted by silver take longer to heal and can easily kill a vampire.
She nodded. I turned around and she cuffed me, tightly. I felt the silver dig into my skin. It stung enough to hurt. "Are you sure about this?"
"Just do it," I told her. At my request, she closed the door and locked it. If I was right, she was sat in her chair, gun aimed at the door. In case of emergency.
I have never needed this precaution before, so we were both understandably caught off guard. Before I met Aunt Riza and Mustang and everyone, years ago, I was stuck in this long fit. It had lasted a week and Amber was forced to chain and lock me up. She told me I was the first ever fledgling to deny blood while going through the Change; every other fledgling was so happy, so willing to do anything to make the pain stop. I, however, chose the pain.
I had never had a fit as bad as this one. Of course I had them; it was unavoidable. It usually only lasted a second before I managed to calm myself down. But this one was almost as excruciating as the Change—it was only a matter of time before I lost control.
To avoid this situation, I came up with a precaution plan. Every one of Mustang's subordinates know it. If I call and drop the word 'fit' they will know I am having a bad case of bloodlust and I am borderline losing control. To protect themselves, they are supplied with a gun containing silver bullets. I am to be handcuffed, locked in a closet, locked in a room, and locked in a building.
If I am to lose control, they are ordered shoot-to-kill.
I remember their reactions clearly; telling your comrades to kill you should the need arise isn't something easily forgotten. Telling them of how dangerous I was alone triggered an amusing reaction; my willingness to die a completely different subject matter. But nonetheless, they agreed to the precaution plan.
I also remember the disbelief on their faces when they all heard of my…species. How incredulous their stares were, how I was almost positive that they were going to put Mustang in a hospital to check his mental health. It took weeks for them to grasp the reality of my existence. Aunt Riza, of course, trusted Mustang with her entire being so she easily believed him; if he were to ask her to commit suicide, I can say with ninety-five percent certainty she would do it. The rest of the crew had unshakable loyalty but I definitely put that to the test.
Havoc was the first to believe. He had practically stalked me for two days straight, learning of my daily routine and my habits. Of course I knew he was there the entire time, but I knew that it would take a lot more than 'Oh yes; by the way, I'm a vampire' to make them believe. So I put up with whatever they needed to do to convince themselves. Those two days I had put on a…show of sorts for him. Every chance I got I had showed off, using my abilities more than I would have. I was flashy: scaling walls, jumping building to building, jumping down from rooftops just for the hell of it. I had him for a loop and I knew it.
"There's no way she's human," he had told the crew when he thought I was out of earshot. "And it's not alchemy or athletic ability…she's something else."
Fuery was the next one to believe. He had been tinkering with something or another, whatever device he was ordered to fix. He was handy; I'll give him that. He could fiddle with anything and it'll be brand new. It was just him and me; the rest had gone out for lunch. Well, he had sliced his finger up on a piece of scrap metal. Just enough for blood to drip down his hand. I was by his side in a flash, staring at his blood, breathing deeply. I had him pinned to his chair. I remember the fear in his eyes, the bewilderment. My hands were shaky, my breath was heavy, and my eyes a deep, bright red.
9. Red eyes meant a number of things for vampires; most primarily blood lust.
I had managed to control myself in time and had wrapped up his finger. "Be more careful," I had told him. He could only nod. I had returned to my seat, reading through the report Mustang had given me, when he spoke up.
"I believe you."
Fuery was such a sweetheart, I swear.
Breda and Falman were the hardest to convince. Months went by. None of Havoc's or Fuery's experiences would shake them. Until one day.
They both decided to go drinking at a local pub that night. Little did they know that was my favourite bar. Well, I was on my way for a few drinks when I caught another vampire feeding. I was livid. I practically flew toward him, ripping him from the kid's neck. While I battled, Breda and Falman had tended to the boy, to make sure he was still breathing and all; poor kid didn't look much older than seventeen. Vampire fights are on another level of dangerous. It's feral, animalistic even; there was nothing good to come out of a battle between supernatural beings. I ended it; torn the other's throat out.
When I turned around, I was sure I looked absolutely terrifying. Blood soaked hands and clothes, bright red eyes, long fangs, etc. They couldn't even point their guns at me; they were frozen. Their expressions were terrified. I knelt down to the boy, checked his pulse, and bite wound.
"He'll be fine; luckily I caught that thing in time. Any longer and he'd be dead," I had informed them. I told them to get him to the hospital, just in case. "I'll dispose of the body."
It was an unspoken agreement that they believed me. I had scared them half to death, but as time went on, their fear wore off. I remember Falman telling me that they were nothing but glad that I was on their side, not the other way around.
It's been four years since then. And this is the first time I've had to call in for the precaution plan. Whatever it was about the Full Metal Alchemist, he was dangerous to my well being and I had to find out why.
MC: I figured I could bang out another chapter, with a little background information.
NK: As always, please review!