A/N: I'm getting really better now. Hopefully, I'll post Chapter 5 up today too. I hope you like it! Warning for crappy writing.
It was hard now to imagine what might have gone on in this side of town.
Banners lay all torn up and worn out on the streets, the remains of popped balloons hung off hot dog stands, masks in all colors and sizes sat in corners of the streets. The signs that were still intact said 'Annual Balloon Festival' with dates at the bottom of the large, red words. Old torn up hot air balloons over flowed and fell off rooftops, their baskets on the side walks.
"Balloon festival?" Roy asked, reading the signs as he walked with his rather short companion who simply nodded at the question, a smile on his face.
"Once a year, they send hot air balloons up and have a carnival." Ed explained, pointing out the rides that stood not so far away.
The taller man nodded and looked around, trying his hardest to imagine small children running around with painted faces and dripping ice cream in their hands. The blonde didn't need to work so much to imagine what it would have looked like for this was his home town. Every year, him and his brother would get their faces painted and run around with their parents, going on rides, getting cotton candy, and playing sideshow games. He would always get the tiger face paint while little Alphonse got a simple cat, a pink nose and black whiskers. The two would always go on the same rides because, chances were, one of them wanted to go on it but the other would be scared of it. Ed's favorite was the tilt-o-whirl. His father would go on it with him and together they would push the thing from side to side, trying their darndest to make it spin as fast as it could. This one Al would never go on. Not because he was scared, of course not. The tilt-o-whirl was the smallest ride at the whole carnival. No, he didn't go on it because this one ride was his brother's and father's ride. Just like how their father or mother wouldn't dream about climbing onto the bumper cars. Oh heavens, no. That, that was a special time for just Ed and Al. Every time they went on, Al would try to hit Ed and Ed would try to hit Al so hard that he would almost fall out. At the end of each turn, they would try their hardest to park the little cars just right so it looked like they had their licenses. Other times, Ed would try to park his at an angle so as soon as he started it up, it would hit Al straight on.
The blonde sighed at the memories as they made their way into the carnival. Roy looked down at him and for a minute almost asked what was wrong. But as soon as the words began dancing on the tip of his tongue, he pushed them back, looking away. This was no time for them to be emotional. They needed to keep their heads, look forward, and keep going.
"So, kid, what's your brother's name?" He asked, looking over a cotton candy stand to see if any other types of food was hidden.
Ed watched him from not to far away. "Alphonse. I call him Al, though." As the words left his lips, he slowly looked over at the run down bumper cars.
Roy noticed this movement and sighed slightly, coming out of the stand and patting him on the head, causing the teen to look up at him in confusion. "We'll find him. If he's anything like you, I'm sure he'll be alright."
As the words passed the older man's lips and entered the blonde's ears, Ed felt a sense of safety and relief, like everything was going to be okay after all. The feeling left as fast as it came as another sound passed his ear drums and made his brain shudder. A familiar hissing sound came from the bumper cars but something seemed to be added to it. Almost as if something was melting. And when the two looked over, they saw something new, something they hadn't yet seem before.
A woman with pig tails stood, staring at them, her mouth open wide. Her neck was as long as her arms, her lower jaw going about half way down. She seemed to hunch over as she spat a thick green line of liquid at them. Edward jumped back as it landed and began to pool on the ground in front of them. The green substance seemed to bubble and burn everything that was near it, like acid. A drop of it seemed to get caught on the tip of Ed's shoe, burning a small hole into the brown fake leather. Right away, he stood back up and began shooting the woman. Once the woman was down, the two made their way toward her, the green liquid going away. Roy stared at the woman and took in the sight slowly. Bite marks from other undead creatures planted themselves on her collar bone, her bra sagging down over her stomach which extended slightly, creating a muffin top over her pants. Ed coughed and looked away, starting to walk over to a small game shack.
"The store isn't to far from here. Let's keep going." He said, pulling out his book and pen, writing down the new zombie for his list.
Roy smiled and walked over, looking at the list as well. "What are you going to name this one?" He asked.
"Spitter. Because she spits." He said, almost laughing at himself.
The taller man laughed at the name and patted the teen's head. "Aren't you original. You sure know how to come up with names."
Edward chuckled, slipping the book and pen back into his front pocket. "Why thank you. It's always been a talent of mine. When I was little, I had a dog and I named him. You'll never guess the name."
Roy thought for a minute and smiled. "Puppy." He answered.
The blonde shook his head. "Nope. Named him Kitten." Roy raised his eyebrow at the grinning teen and chuckled patting his back.
"Alright, Kitten, let's get back on the road." He said and walked off.
At one time, the hotel could have been a wonderful place for people to vacation and stay for as long as they wanted. Ed remembered how people would have very expensive weddings here, even sometimes comic book conventions. But now, it looked like it had housed war victims. Sleeping bags everywhere, bodies sat in chairs. Bags and bags of biological waste gathered dust in the corners of each room.
"Well, home sweet home." Roy said, heading over to the stairs. "At least, for tonight."
Ed nodded and followed the older man, climbing up the stairs with him. The smell of the rotting bodies didn't seem to bother him at all. After all, he was covered in the smell, his maroon shirt, face, and whole body was splattered with dried, crusting blood. He sighed as his long hair fell into his face.
"Do you think that this place has a shower? I really need one." He said, looking his hair over. Usually, when he washed it, it came out silky smooth. Sometimes, after coming out of the shower, he would sit there and pet his hair until the oils from his fingers made it greasy once more.
Roy shrugged. "I don't know, kid. Hopefully there is."
After another flight of stairs, the two stopped, heading out into the hallway containing all of the rooms. Roy smirked as he began to pick the lock of a set of doors. Nothing seemed special about it at first to Ed until he saw the sign on the wall. Presidential Suite. The best room in the whole hotel was theirs. As the lock finally came undone, Roy opened up the twin doors to reveal a small living room. Everything seemed to be working fine, lights were on, TV was on, everything seemed to be on. Ed's jaw dropped as he looked around, amazed that a hotel room could be this big. It was like a small apartment, a kitchen to their left and bedrooms to their right.
"I call master bed!" He said, running to the master bedroom.
Roy chuckled at the sight and made his way to the kitchen, making sure none of those cannibalish creatures housed themselves in the suite. But, it seemed like the place was untouched, a safe haven in this awful war. Letting out a sigh of relief, the man walked over to the refrigerator and was surprised to see that there was food in there. It was enough to make at least one more meal with for two. He left to go lock and barricade the doors but came back as fast as he could to start cooking a fabulous dinner.
His clothes seemed to have melted in with his skin as he tried to take them off. Certain patches of his skin seemed to have crusted bile and blood, making his skin rough. He winced at the sight of just his bare chest as he began to take off his pants and shoes. The bathroom smelt like it was just bleached the other day and it showed. It's sinks were sparkling white, soaps and shampoos sat in containers on the counter, and the toilet was almost brand new. The water poured down when he turned the handle and a sense of overwhelming joy flooded him. Fresh, hot water. As soon as his dirt coated hand met the wonderful liquid, he almost began to cry out of happiness. Right away, Ed jumped in, a bar of soap in one hand, shampoo in the other. The soap smelt of lavender and the shampoo, vanilla. As he washed himself, he took in the scent as an old, welcomed guest. Slowly, the blood, dirt, and bile began to wash away with his thoughts. And for a moment, he forgot everything.
He forgot where he was.
He forgot the war of undead verses the living outside.
He forgot about his parents.
He even forgot about Alphonse.
And when the water stopped and he climbed out, it almost scared him how much he had forgotten. Right away, he plugged the tub and began to fill it with hot water. When it was filled enough, he dunked his clothes in, taking the bar of soap, he scrubbed every piece of his clothes hard, almost as if he was angry.
Roy sighed happily as he began to dry his hair, wearing only his shorts. After dinner, he too took a shower and understood why Ed came out with such a cheerful look. It was almost as if the shower contained healing water from heaven. He smirked as he saw the teen on the balcony, shooting zombies down bellow.
"Oi! Fatass! Up here you dumb shit!"
Bang!
The older man came out with his own gun and sat beside the blonde, looking down at the horrible world.
"How many points do you have?" He asked, putting shells into his shot gun.
Ed smiled, aiming for another flesh eater. "Twenty-four. Specials count as ten each." He said and took a shot, smirking as he put the gun down and turned to Roy. "Thirty-four."
Roy chuckled and shot the gross Spitter bellow who tried her hardest to make her acid reach them. "Ten." He said.
He smiled at his taller companion and looked down, scanning the small horde. Everything was silent between them and almost tense before he spoke once more. "So…you think Al is alive somewhere?"
The black haired man stared at him then scanned the horde as well, looking for signs of a blonde with similar features to the teen. "More then likely."
Ed nodded, looking down at his hands as he fiddled with his nails. "I hope so…"
Roy sighed mentally when no signs of a blonde showed up and turned to the one next to him. "You and your brother must be really close. Are you twins or…?"
The teen shook his head, a smile on his face. "No, but people swear we are. He looks so much like me." A silence between them grew as well as tension. After a minute or so, he broke the silence once more. "When we were little, we had this friend named Ling. He was from China and always got sent these weird comic books from there. They all had to do with zombies. It was always, 'be careful! People are coming back from the dead!' with him.
"One night, Al got scared and started crying because he was afraid that the zombies were gonna get him. I promised I would protect him with my life. I told him that they weren't real, that they weren't going to get him. I hope he really is okay…"
Roy stared at him, his face held no emotion. He looked back out over the town and put his arm around the smaller one's shoulders, trying his hardest to comfort him.
"I do too, kid. I do, too…"
A/N: The Spitter is an awful creature from the wonderful game Left 4 Dead 2. wiki/The_Spitter There she is. The Balloon Festival happens in my home town once a year during August and it's just people gathering together having fun at a carnival, riding hot air balloons and winning prizes. When me and my little sister were little, I would get Tiger face paint while she, like Al, got regular cat face paint. And we too loved the bumper cars. So, um, review? And thank you for your time. - ADAM