Syphon
Chapter seven: it was still October
The company was named after its founder, Mr. Sutherland, Sutherland Salts. The building was as old as time, aged by the salts, the wooden beams rotten from the moisture. Supplies had been abandoned, boxes, and vats, propane tanks, and paper. The building had been boarded up, but nature had found a way inside, rooting to the brick, creating a canopy of leaves inside. The flora had flourished, the salts a fertilizer, overtaking the first and second floors. The air was thick with moisture, like saltwater, sediment floating through the air, only seen through the light of the sun. There was a white cast on the machinery, on the walls, the floors, and windows. The salts were dry, room temperature, but there was condensation dripping down the sides of the vats and from the ceiling, as though it were raining.
The warehouse was quiet, except for the occasion sigh from the machines, settling under immense pressure. And that was where Edward stood, Adam beside him, listening to the silence of the system. There was something eerie about the building, Adam having commented on his uncomfortableness upon entering, stating that the building and all of its contents were fucking creepy. And Edward, knowing that Adam was prone to overreact, was in agreement for once. The building was disturbingly distilled, sterile in its state of humidity, odorless, not even the leaves had a scent. And still. The atmosphere was still, too still, stagnant, even. And that made Edward uneasy, something in his guts telling him to run, but Edward wasn't listening, he wasn't going to listen.
Edward felt stiff upon entering the building, like his arm and leg were already beginning to rust. There was so much moisture in the air, Ed could taste it. Edward spit the salts from his mouth, grimacing, and spoke, "I'll look upstairs if you want to stay down here."
Adam frowned and crossed his arms in defiance, "Really? We're going to split up. That is possibly the worst idea that you have ever had, Ed."
Edward rolled his eyes, "Jesus, Adam. How long do want this to take?"
Adam was already walking away, speaking with exasperation, "Why, of course, I'll walk down the dark, creepy ass hallway, and yes, I know that Satan is down there, but I'm going. Ed told me to go. I'll go wherever Ed tells me to go. Thank God I listen to you, Ed."
Whatever Adam said after that was inaudible, for he had disappeared underneath the canopy and Edward was already walking up the stairs. Every step produced a metallic clink, disrupting the environment, the stillness shifting in agitation. Edward could see the rims of the vats, the salts white like mold atop the brim, solid, and yet, swarming with infestation. There was sediment across the floor, like sand, and Edward used his foot to move the wet leaves from the walkway. Underneath his very feet, ground into a powder, eggshells, in the shape of a circle. The symbols were smudged, dislodged from the elements, but to Edward, the circle was unobstructed. It was a transmutation circle, a human transmutation circle. Edward reached down and smeared the dust with his fingers, the chalk rough against his skin, remembering the feeling. Something that had once brought him joy had brought him nothing but pain, and Edward curled his fingers against his palm, retracting his hand. That was enough.
Across the room there were boxes and burlaps bags. The boxes were empty, but the bags were filled with remnants of herbs and minerals. There was salt, saltpeter, carbon, phosphorus, all of the ingredients that were required to make a human. The bags had been disturbed, and Edward, thinking that the scene was strange, could only wonder what they had been used for. The circle was in good condition, but there was no ash from a human transmutation, although, there was sand, and sand was a byproduct of transmutation. Someone had used the circle, but it was clean. Edward frowned then, dread filling his chest, an unwarranted consideration consuming his thoughts. Or, it had worked.
When Edward looked up, something caught his eye. There was blood, only a drop, on the far wall. If he hadn't looked directly at it, he wouldn't have seen it. Edward walked across the room, standing before the blood, staring at it, possessed by it. The blood was red, but the blood was discolored, deformed. Edward had never seen blood like that, not even the artificial humans had blood like that, almost black. Edward reached out and touched it, the blood staining his skin, bleeding beneath his fingernails. And in the distance, Edward thought that he could hear someone calling his name, but the sound was overwhelmed by the ringing in his ears, only narrowing his attention further. But his daze was broken by something far more frightening, something like a roar.
And Adam, being Adam, had distracted himself from the fact that he was afraid by looking at everything but what he was looking for. Adam looked at the walls, the ceiling, the floor, finding nothing, all the while wandering into a small side room. There were no windows in the room, just a dim existence of light, and Adam opened the door allowing the light to enter. Adam was speechless, there was blood everywhere, gore crumbling in the corners, decay wafting from the floorboards. And a circle, red like rotten apples, bleeding through the grain of the wooden floor, damp as though it had never dried. Adam knew what it was, a transmutation circle, but he didn't know enough about alchemy to know what it was for. But the blood made Adam restless, knowing that this wasn't right, that it was evil. So Adam did what he did best, and called for Ed.
"Ed!" There was no answer from Edward, "Ed!" Adam sighed in frustration, looking around the room, at the blood, how it was still dripping down the walls. Adam yelled one last time, upset, "Ed! Where the fuck are you!" Adam didn't want to be alone, things like this frightened him, they put fear in him. Adam had a gun, just like Edward did, but he lacked finesse, a good shot at best. But Adam had to hold onto the notion that the gun would save him, or Edward, because Ed was a dead shot. Adam had never seen Edward shoot anyone, and even though Ed had been an alchemist in the war, he still carried a rifle, and a Glock, to shoot people with. Adam didn't doubt that Edward had killed more than once, but it had been in war, and Adam couldn't condemn Ed for that.
Adam was interrupted by a thump, and thinking that it was Edward, turned and sighed, "Finally, what the hell have you been doing." Adam shut his mouth, though, his feet moving backwards, cold in his spine. He couldn't speak, his tongue was swollen, his mouth sutured shut, his words intangible. Because the thing standing in the doorway was not Edward, but something else, something aggressive and ugly. Adam could hear it breathing, see the steam of its breath, and could only watch in horror as the monster wept through its teeth. The monster took a step forward, not with its feet, but with claws, black and razor-sharp. And its eyes, yellow, were staring into Adam, feral, and with sudden ferociousness, a roar.
Adam was trying to reach for his gun, but his hands were frozen, his fingers ice cold. So instead of firing his weapon, Adam turned and ran, the monster following behind. Adam was down the hallway, racing towards the arboretum, the monster tearing through the mortar, crashing into the walls, clambering to catch him. But Adam was too slow, the monster upon him, its jaw unhinged and hanging. Adam slipped upon the sodden leaves and salt, falling to the ground, turning to face the beast. He held out his hands, to shelter himself, knowing that it would do nothing. Adam closed his eyes to comfort himself, because if he couldn't see the monster the monster couldn't see him, knowing all along that he was going to die.
However, in an instant, there was a boom, the monster tumbling towards Adam in disarray. Adam opened his eyes, the beast bleeding from its head, breathing still, dying. Adam stood suddenly, scrambling to feet, if only to see Edward holding his gun. Ed had shot the monster right between its eyes, dead. Edward was motionless, though, his hand steady, his expression emphatic, waiting for the beast to rise. But soon the beast ceased to breathe, its eyes staring ahead, watching Edward lower his gun. Edward hadn't changed, his countenance was stationary, static, staring into the eyes of the monster.
"Fuck, Ed. Fuck."
Edward just looked at Adam, and when Edward spoke, it was not with his voice, but with the voice of another, "Are you alright."
Adam was shaking, his hands, his heart, his teeth, "The fuck, Ed. Where were you?"
Edward didn't even blink. He placed his gun back in its holster, snapping the clip, and dropped his hands to his sides. It was like he was in shock, but the opposite, shut down, his motions mechanical. And Adam was about to say something else, when he realized that the world was spinning, his heart beating too fast, every breath shorter than the last. Edward was walking towards Adam, forcing him to sit down, Edward's hand resting on Adam's shoulder. Edward was looking into his eyes, but Edward wasn't there, it was someone else, someone hard. And Adam felt afraid, not because of the panic in chest, but because the person that he had worked with for the past ten years had disappeared, if only for a moment. Adam closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, attempting to abate the impending heart attack. But when he opened his eyes again, the world was still black.
Edward let Adam fall to the floor, allowing him to rest, Edward standing and walking towards the beast. He had seen monsters like that many times before, alchemist's made them to further their research, for science, and they made them for war. Edward had killed many chimeras, they were the most common of fiends, but this monster was different somehow. Edward couldn't place what was different, he hadn't used alchemy for years, nor had he tried to remember all of the things that he had learned. He allowed himself to forget, wanting to forget, because the knowledge had only brought him sorrow. Edward remembered chemistry, chemical names and numbers, but that was of rare use. In ten years he had never used any of his alchemic knowledge, except for earlier that day, and even that had been a limited amount.
And although Edward was distracted by the beast, he felt calm. It was a calmness that he had lost, like he felt good, like he felt strong. Edward wasn't afraid, for his fear had fled, leaving him with what remained, which was spite. Maybe, it was rage. Maybe, it was his masochism. It was hard to really determine the feeling, but it was his most adamant quality, something that he shoved deep down inside, never letting anyone see that it was there. Because it was there, and sometimes it escaped, or thrived, like in the war. God, he felt good in the war. But when he had retuned, and the world had gone back to normal, the adrenaline dropped, the shakes started, and he had to go back to saving Alphonse. Alphonse. Something in his brain twisted at the thought of his brother's name, it made him feel sick, but satisfied, and Edward grimaced. He never wanted to leave the war, he wanted to stay in the desert where it was warm, because he wanted to. It could have been out of spite, though, knowing that Alphonse hated the desert because it was barren. But that had been the very reason that Edward like the desert, because it was barren. But Edward had returned, reluctantly, to a life that he hated, to a brother that he hated, to a city that he hated. Only to be where he was, here, waiting for Adam to wake up from his panic attack so they could get the fuck out of there.
Edward, however, feeling as though he couldn't stand still, began to retrace Adam's steps. He found himself in the boiler, staring into a bloody room with another circle. The circle had produced the chimera, Edward knew that for sure, bloody circles made chimeras. There wasn't any evidence, the scene was corrupt, dirty, the chimera making sure of that. It was odd, though, the chimera, like it was a distraction. Like the chimera was supposed to lead them away, trick them into thinking that a monster had something to do with the crime. But Edward knew better, only monsters made monsters. That was the golden rule, if there was one. So Edward left the boiler and walked back into the arboretum.
At that very moment, Adam opened his eyes, sitting straight up, gasping for air. Adam stood, however, unsteadily, and shook his head. He immediately found Edward with his eyes and frowned, "I got to get out of here, Ed."
Edward nodded. Adam followed Edward out of the building, apprehensive of Edward's behavior, wondering when Ed would return to normal. Normal. And Adam scoffed at himself. Edward was anything but normal. Edward was so far passed normal that he had come full circle. His expressions were uncontrollable, violent, his mood rising and falling like blood sugar. Edward, despite his façade of anxiousness and agony, was dangerous, and Adam knew that. Adam didn't like this Edward, he preferred the emotionally unstable Edward, knowing that he was less frightening, less unpredictable. When the mood struck Edward right, Adam was unsure of what Ed would do. Adam didn't think that Edward would ever hurt him intentionally, but Adam, at times, wondered if Edward would even save him. But Edward had, saved him.
Adam was almost to the car, but he stopped, his hand outreached but inoperative, "Can you drive, Ed?" Adam's hands were still shaking, uncontrollably, his heart rate through the roof. Adam placed his hand on his chest, feeling lightheaded, and nauseous. He reached into his pocket with his other hand and handed the keys to Edward, who took them. Edward never drove the car, he didn't even own a car. It wasn't because Edward couldn't drive, but because he couldn't feel the clutch with his left foot.
Edward stopped beside Adam, "Do you want me to take you home."
The question was apathetic, even if it wasn't meant to be, and Adam looked at Edward, "Yeah, I think that I need to lie down." Adam took a breath, he couldn't even walk the last five feet to the car, the distance further than he remembered it to be. But Edward, feeling merciful, placed his hand on Adam's back and led him to the door, opening it, and helping Adam inside. Edward had then gotten in the car, started it, and began to drive away. The drive was spent in silence until Adam spoke, "Does it get any easier?"
Edward didn't understand the question, "Does what get any easier?"
Adam was pushing, but he wanted an answer to his question, for his own wellbeing, "This, being afraid."
Edward continued to stare at the road. The question was profound for Adam, but Edward answered nonetheless, "No." And Edward paused, contemplating what he was going to say next, thinking that he shouldn't speak, but feeling as though he should, "You have to let it go. Because if you don't, it's going to eat you alive." And Edward looked at Adam, right in the eyes, "Just look at what it did to me."
And Edward turned his head, ending the conversation.
