A/N: Sorry for the later update! One word: college. It's kicking my butt. :P Anywho, enjoy, even though this one is kind of more a giant transition chapter; I promise the plot kicks back up in chapter eleven!
all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa
Carpe Noctem...Seize the Night
Chapter Ten: Stolen Redemption
"Shaking, burning up with the fever
In the realm of pain, I am the deceiver
Now I lie to myself, so I can believe her
As [it] disassembles my life
I cannot dispel the illusion
All my hopes and dreams are drowned by confusion
Can I find a way to make a solution that will reconfigure my life…?
…I have fallen again
This is the end
Pain redefined."
-"Pain Redefined" by Disturbed
…`c.n.`…
"…Detective Grahnger?"
Grahnger slurped up a stifling hot gulp of black coffee as he glanced up to see who was calling for him this time? His number one assistant looked expectantly at him, meaning that he should probably get up and see what exactly he wanted, despite how exhausted and lazy he was feeling at that particular moment. The monotonous work of deciphering empty evidence after empty evidence for this stupid serial murderer was making his job a living hell, for whenever the people of his office could find nothing, there truly was no hope for anyone at Central Command to be any good.
His assistant held up a small plastic bag filled only with a long, light-colored hair.
"I know we did not get any DNA results from this, but look closer for a moment."
Grahnger stared at him, making the young man gulp.
"Please. I have a point, I promise."
"Fine," Grahnger sighed heavily as he snatched the bag up. "I'll humor you."
"Great. Well, I was looking over some of the photos, and I noticed that one person we had photographed at the scene of the crime has hair that looked remarkably similar to that…"
Grahnger shifted his stare from the hair in the baggie to the photograph in his assistant's hand.
"…who does that look like it belongs to, hmm? Who do we know with long, golden blonde hair, Detective?"
"…You're right. It certainly does look like Edward Elric's."
…`c.n.`…
Alphonse awoke feeling as if he never did get to sleep, even though the clock before him clearly read a time about six hours later than the time it read before. He felt like just closing his eyes and attempting to fall back asleep, as he did numerous times periodically throughout the night, but knew that at this point he could not. He needed to hurry up and get to Central HQ before Mustang came thundering in and woke Edward up in the process. The last thing he wanted to deal with when he was this exhausted was an enraged vampire…
Idly, he felt the side of his neck. Other than the still-healing bruise from the other night, it was generally unscathed, which meant that Edward had kept his promise. So far.
He had survived yet another night with the vampiric beast that consumes his brother's soul…
…`c.n.`…
No matter how crisis-filled Central had become in the past month and a half, Brigadier General Mustang and Führer Grumman never did see fit to stop their chess games on account of the murders. Grumman continuously stated every time Mustang tried to back out that if they continued to force life to spin on, then perhaps the presence of death will eventually lose its place in the city. Mustang could not see any way of disagreeing with him since he was the Führer, of course, but he also was secretly glad he still had at least one excuse to take a break from work.
"Check," Grumman said, smiling beneath his moustache. Mustang frowned slightly, and then smiled a split second later as he figured out what to do to counter his situation. He obediently moved his king out of the way, still smiling as he watched Grumman move his rook once again, preparing to check Mustang's king yet again. However, before he could so much as smile, Mustang's last bishop came out of nowhere and took Grumman's rook.
"Now, how did I not see that coming?" Grumman said coolly—a little too coolly for Mustang's liking. Before he knew it, Mustang had his lucky bishop taken up and was placed back in check by Grumman's knight.
"Damn," Mustang cursed under his breath, his smile dissipating on the spot. "And I thought I had you this time!"
"Hahah!" Grumman laughed successfully, leaning back in his chair. "Better luck next time."
"If there is a next time," Mustang retorted. "Who wants to play against somebody who wins all of the time?"
"Someone aiming to be better," Grumman replied wisely, winking at Mustang from behind his spectacles. Mustang also leaned back in his seat, unable to find any way to disagree with the Führer's words. That was the wonderful thing about Grumman; no matter how dark the situation became, he always managed to look on the bright side of things and to think positively and rationally. And he never did let his demeanor suffer. No matter what, he remained his cheerful, chess-masterful self.
"Well," the Führer stated, his smile faltering slightly as he glanced up at the clock upon the wall over his desk. "I supposed it's time for us to return to our duties."
"Yeah," Mustang said, standing and stuffing a hand in his pocket. "You're probably right."
"I know I'm right," Grumman said, looking Mustang squarely in the eye. "I'm an old man, General, but not that old. I'm tired of seeing all this premature death throughout the city."
"As am I."
Even as he said that, however—even as he exited Grumman's office—Mustang could not help but think of Edward, the killer himself, sleeping idly in his and his brother's hotel room, and right under the Führer's nose.
Grumman shut the door behind Mustang, raised an eyebrow at the doorknob for a moment, and then spun quickly around. He faced only the other, empty half of the room. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, though he did not know why he had suddenly felt so paranoid. He could not help it, though, for it truly did feel like somebody was watching his every move from behind, from deep within some unknown shadow...
But that was a ridiculous notion, of course. Grumman disregarded his paranoid thoughts with a soft chuckle as he sat back down behind his desk, content to finish the day's work to the best of his ability, for his city's sake.
…`c.n.`…
You think this is some kind of a game of strategy, which, I suppose, would have been the kind of game you were good at, being of the intellectual background you were once of. However, this is not a game; nor is it a battle of wills. Willpower has nothing to do with me remaining silent whilst you continue this pointless charade, while you insist upon starving yourself of the tasteful death that your undead body now craves. You will succumb to it, for it is even beyond my own control. Not that I would be opposed to such a loss of control in the first place.
I liked it better when I was in charge—as did you yourself, I know it. I remember your thoughts that first night after you turned, your sheer lust and desire. I remember when you said that 'the vampiric curse was a gift, something far greater to behold than redemption.' You will fade back into those thoughts, for you still believe them to be true, no matter how much the sliver of what remains of your human soul may disagree. Edward Elric the human is a powerless ghost; Edward Elric the vampire is and forevermore will be the one in charge of this body, this vessel...regardless of his former brother's pestering existence. After all, that is a mark easily removed, a spot of light that shall be easy to extinguish in this world of unrelenting darkness you now exist in…
You know this to be true, too; you know that you yourself have dreamt many times about how wonderful it would be, just to be free from such a bind. You would be finally released into the night, and all of its dark glory. But while he still exists, he will continuously bring you down, appealing to your weak, formerly human self, the part of you that is now useless for it is dead. You are truly dead; I am the only living soul that lies incarcerated in this shell of a human body.
Just imagine the sheer feeling of freedom you will finally gain once you finally kill off that piece of meat. You know, deep down inside, how much you truly lust for his blood, how much you truly long to dig your fangs into that tick neck of his, licking up pieces of his shredded veins and arteries as you gorge yourself with his sweet, crimson blood—
"Shit!" Ed yelled, wrenching himself out of his stupor, his reddened eyes widened in horror. It was not a dream, for his corpse of a body could no longer spurn forth dreams or nightmares of any sort; the voice he heard actually existed, and it was completely right. His bloodlust—particularly, his lust for Alphonse's blood—has progressed to a dangerous level. It was only a matter of time until the beasts monologue came true.
I have to get out of here before Alphonse gets himself killed—
You cannot escape. You have officially placed yourself in a position in which redemption is no longer an option.
Ed sighed heavily, knowing full well that the monster was right and wishing with every fiber of what was left of his being that it was lying once more.
…`c.n.`…
Night had fallen, but as usual, neither the Brigadier General nor his First Lieutenant had any plans to go home any time soon. Neither of them had gotten very much sleep since learning of Edward Elric's new vampiric self…but Riza especially found herself suffering in the night. Guilt had protruded into her nightmares, for not only is she guilty of lying to the military she so dutifully sworn her life and dedication to, but also, she felt that she in part was guilty of causing Edward to be attacked and turned in the first place. After all, she did support his illegal nightly hunting for the previous killer, the one that condemned him to an afterlife as a vampire. She even supplied him with a weapon to kill, a gun that did more damage to himself than the killer.
"Are you all right, Lieutenant?"
Riza blinked once and looked up at her superior officer, who was looking upon her with concern from where he stood behind his desk. Riza sighed and nodded once, to which Mustang's frown simply deepened.
"I'm fine," she protested, to which the General shook his head.
"I can tell when something is bothering you."
"What difference does it make?" Riza said, her obvious tiredness making her slightly irritable. "Everyone here has something bothering them. If they don't then there is something wrong with their minds."
She leaned back in her chair, sighing once again as she spoke what had been on her mind the entire day:
"This is my entire fault. Edward got turned into that monster because of what I did to help him hunt down a killer that we all knew was much stronger than him…I'm the one to blame."
Mustang listened carefully to Riza's lament, and then exhaled as he approached her desk, placing a palm down upon its mahogany surface.
"You and I both know Edward would have gone out there with or without your help. Whether or not he is a kid anymore does not matter because of his stubbornness; he would have gotten himself turned one way or another."
"But that does not make what I did right," Lieutenant pointed out. Mustang stood up straight, looking down at her with a mixed expression of pity and curiosity.
"On the contrary, it makes your intentions more honorable, the fact that you wanted so badly to get to the truth of the case and wanted to support Ed's fiery determination. You have no idea it would turn out the way it did—none of us did, what with the way Ed has always been so good at fighting and what-not."
Hawkeye still saw quite a few gaps in her superior officer's explanation, but she did not want to argue with him. Not tonight; death was too close to their door, and she was far too exhausted to put up a good enough case, even against Mustang's weak explanation.
"We should head home," Mustang muttered, looking back behind him at the clock. "It's getting late."
"It's been late," Riza said, yawning hugely as she stood from her seat and made to organize the papers on the desktop. Mustang watched her do so, observing her delicate-looking hands as they gripped the stacks of files and police reports, placing and replacing them each one-by-one in their proper place.
"…Maybe you should stay with me tonight," Mustang spoke in a slightly softer voice, even though they were the only two left in the office at that time. "I mean, you know…just so you don't have to be alone."
Riza looked up in surprise at such a sudden and unexpected offer. What exactly was the Brigadier General thinking?
"Don't look at me like that," he snapped in response to the expression on her face. "I'm concerned is all; it's far more dangerous to be alone at a time like this. And I've told you before, Riza…I'm not about to risk losing you again."
"Edward's locked up in his hotel room with Alphonse, he's not going anywhere tonight. I'm perfectly fine—"
"Who's to say the old killer won't come back?"
Riza remained silent, for she had of course considered such a thing already. But she had not deemed that a necessary concern. Not yet, at least.
"…I have told you many times before, sir, that I am more than capable of protecting myself. On top of that I do have Black Hayate to protect me at home. Speaking of, I need to go home to feed him—"
"No you don't; you left here to run home three hours ago to feed him, remember?" Mustang said, smirking slightly at Riza's lack of an argument. "He has plenty of food for the night."
Riza stared at him and silently shook her head once more, locking eyes with him, trying to firmly and wordlessly state that she had no intention of spending the night with him that night, that she was set on going to her own home that night, no one else's. Mustang was not about to take no for an answer, however, thus he softened his expression drastically and changed tactics, putting on a genuine look of concern for her well-being.
"…Please, Riza," he said, walking up to her and gently placing his hands upon her shoulders. "Just for one night…just so I'll know you'll be ok."
Riza looked away from him, glancing back up at the clock as she did so. It was already about to be the next day, for the night was quickly approaching the morning. Finally, she sighed in defeat.
"Just for tonight."
…`c.n.`…
"Excuse me, Mr. Elric?"
"Yes?" Al asked, approaching the man at the front desk, who was holding a telephone in his hand. Probably another angry call from Mustang, telling me to hurry up, Al thought sourly as he took the phone from the man.
"Alphonse!"
Al blinked, a feeling of sheer dread filling him as he swallowed and asked feebly: "...Winry?"
"Yes it's me! Who'd you think it was?"
"What's the matter, why do you sound so angry?" Al stuttered, though he already knew the answer.
"Where is Ed? I've tried getting ahold of him for weeks now, but they've been telling me he's unavailable? What is that supposed to mean-and how long have YOU been there, Al?"
"Uhm, a little longer than five weeks now, I think-"
"And it never once occurred to either you or Ed to CALL US?!"
"I'm sorry, Winry! We—er—I—uhm...a lot has been going on here, ok?"
"Please, Al, Ed uses that excuse on me all the time! Where the hell is he anyway?"
Alphonse knitted his eyebrows together, trying to decide what to tell Winry. He really wanted to tell her the truth, that Ed got attacked and was now a vampire, but he knew he could do no such thing, what with the man at the front desk there next to him as he spoke to Winry. One single witness was one witness too many. And there was the high chance that Winry would think he was lying to her, too; there's no way she would take such far-off news so easily. She would be like Mustang and Hawkeye, demanding to see Edward herself-and there was no way he was about to let her come to Central at a time like this. It was far too dangerous.
He sighed heavily as he prepared to lie once again:
"I...I don't know where brother is."
Winry was silent for a second, and then she asked in a slightly softer voice:
"What do you mean 'you don't know?'"
"I mean, he's gone missing...he's been missing, actually, since before I even got in Central. And we still haven't found any trace of him yet..."
His voice trailed off as he heard her move away from the phone. Al stood in silence for a long moment before he finally asked quietly:
"...You still there, Winry?"
Silence...and then—
"Y-yes, I'm here."
Alphonse looked down on the floor, shutting his eyes tightly; he hated himself for the pain he was putting Winry through, and he just knew that Ed was going to kill him when he found out what he had done...
Or will he? Al thought, suddenly wrenching his eyes open with realization. After all, Ed probably doesn't even remember Winry at all...he hasn't mentioned her all this time. He even told me that I was the only one he remembered...poor Winry...
"Alphonse?"
Al pressed one palm against the wall in front of him, the other one wrapped so tightly around the phone that his knuckles were turning white.
"I'm here, Winry."
"Did you hear what I just said?"
"No, I didn't, I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?"
"Of course; I just said...I said to let me know when you find him. And to please keep in touch as much as possible...I don't want to lose you too, Al. Please."
Al swallowed and nodded.
"I promise, Winry. And I'm sorry I haven't called you myself. You have no idea how awful it's gotten here."
"...If you ever need me to come up there and help, I can—"
"No," Al interrupted firmly. "I've already lost my brother; I'm not about to lose you too!"
Silence on the other line once again followed Al's pained statement. He then heard the poor mechanic take a shaky breath and speak in a weak voice:
"Ok. Ok, I understand. I'm sorry...I just...I just don't like being left in the dark. I care too much about the two of you for that. Please don't leave me in the dark again, ok? Promise me that much at least?"
Alphonse thought about the dark hotel room two floors above his head, where the creature of the night that was once his brother slept like the dead. Would he even remember this girl who cares so much for his damned soul? If he didn't, the least Alphonse could do was to remember her himself.
"...I promise, Winry...I promise."
…`c.n.`…
[FIVE WEEKS LATER]
It was a cloudy, quiet day at HQ, for once. Not a single new dead body had been found in over a month, and the killer's bloody trail that he left behind in the victims he had attacked but let live had nearly dissipated as well, for they were now all out of the hospital and back home where the belong. The overall tensions in the office were lifted on top of everything else, even though nobody except for Mustang, Riza and Alphonse knew who the killer was. As long as nobody in Central was dying, HQ was mostly going to be in a relaxed state. Even the papers' headlines were becoming lighter in nature:
HUNDREDS WHO FLED CENTRAL BEGIN RETURNING
PEACE IN THE STREETS OF CENTRAL
However, occasionally they begged the question on everyone's mind, especially HQ's:
HAS THE KILLER LEFT US FOR GOOD?
Was the creature of the night that haunted Central's citizens gone at last? Of course, Alphonse knew the truth, along with the equally-secretive Brigadier General and his first Lieutenant. But Alphonse was the one that suffered most from guilt and from fear.
Mustang had gotten used to seeing Alphonse asleep on the couch in his large office every day in the early afternoon. He figured that the poor boy no longer got the proper amount of sleep at night due to the fact that he was stuck in a hotel room with an awake, hungry vampire, therefore he allowed him this time to catch up on sleep as much as he needed to do so. At first the other subordinate officers questioned the General for allowing this, but after a while they too got used to the younger Elric's daily naps. After all, when all is said and done Mustang truly did not care just of how much help Alphonse was in the office, for he helped enough by hiding Edward from Central Command. He always kept a wary eye on the boy's neck, however, watching to make sure that the bruise that had finally completely faded away does not randomly return one day.
Alphonse feared greatly that such a day was just around the corner.
The sleep-deprived Elric could easily tell that his older brother was slowly but surely beginning to lose control with his thirst. The animal blood was not going to cut it much longer, and the last thing that Al wanted to end up being was Edward's most recent victim. Hence the reason he has not been sleeping; he could not possibly sleep with a ravenous vampire silently pacing in the pitch black dark of the night. He did not trust Ed in his current state to keep in control with the beast inside him that craved blood with all its might.
"Alphonse."
Al looked up curiously, yawning slightly as he did so. The General did not even bother looking up as he instructed the younger Elric:
"Go home."
"Bu—"
"Now."
Riza looked up at Al and nodded in agreement with her superior officer.
"You're dead tired; you need to go and try to catch up on sleep. We've got everything here covered."
"Not much going on here anyway," Breda piped up lazily from the other room, to which Mustang finally looked up to raise an eyebrow at him. Alphonse sighed heavily; he truly did not feel like returning to the lair of the vampire just yet, but he felt that it would be best to obey Mustang and Hawkeye, despite his reluctance.
As he exited the office, however, he was stopped by Major Armstrong.
"Alphonse Elric, I must speak with you!" he said in a loud, booming voice, making Alphonse wince slightly.
"Hello, Major," he said in a far more quiet voice than Armstrong. "What's up?"
Armstrong looked worriedly at the door for a moment, then took Alphonse's arm and led him down another hallway before whispering:
"There's something you should know, something that I probably should not be telling you, so do keep quiet about this—"
"I will, just tell me what's going on," Al said, suddenly feeling much more awake. What could Armstrong need to tell him that was so urgent?
"…As of today, the Führer is having his office secretly investigate the General."
"What?"
"You heard me."
Alphonse gaped at Mustang. This can't be happening, he thought with a panic. They know something—Grumman knows something…but how?
"Mustang's being investigated by Grumman?"
"Yes."
"For what?"
"I don't know, personally," Armstrong said, looking over his shoulder once more before continuing:
"But I do know that they think he has connections to the murderer, for some reason. Somebody tipped the Führer off—don't ask me whom, though. Nobody knows."
"This isn't happening," Al said, running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe this is happening!"
"Shh," Armstrong hushed the troubled Elric. "Nobody can know that you know, alright? I'm not supposed to disclose this to anyone in the General's office…"
"Sorry," Al said, looking away from Armstrong for a long moment before asking in a low voice:
"And is Edward still on the suspect list?"
Armstrong nodded once.
"For now; they're strongly considering taking his name off of it, however, since…you know."
Al shook his head:
"Know what?"
Armstrong opened his mouth to explain, but stopped himself from saying exactly what he was thinking.
"…Do you still believe that Edward is alive out there somewhere?" the big man decided to ask Alphonse, looking down upon the younger Elric with pity. Alphonse raised an eyebrow at the Major.
"Of course I do."
"Well," Armstrong said, looking away. "…I'm afraid most of the people in the Führer's office don't believe that anymore, Alphonse."
Al blinked, and then bowed his head.
"Oh."
"I'm sorry—"
"It's ok," Alphonse interrupted. "I understand where they're coming from. At least them believeing that will get brother's name cleared."
Armstrong nodded once in agreement with Al, and then looked behind where they stood.
"…I fear we may have spoken a bit too much upon this matter," he said, straightening up. "That's all I'm going to say for now."
"Alright," Al said, also glancing behind him. Armstrong looked at him concernedly:
"You go and get some sleep, Alphonse Elric."
"You don't have to tell me twice, Major."
He said this even with the knowledge that sleeping that night—or any night, for that matter, as long as he had to lie to the military and as long as his big brother was a vampire—was not an option.
Alphonse's thoughts were still racing so rapidly that evening when he finally made it back to the hotel that he got majorly caught off-guard when thunder boomed in the distance. With his hand upon the front door's handle, he bewilderedly looked back at the dark overcast sky with slight trepidation. After all, Al had never really been one for thunderstorms, and with the way the weather was beginning to turn, it looked like this storm was going to be more fearsome than usual. He sighed as he entered the building, knowing that his older brother would most likely be teasing him about his phobia all night long…
That is, if Edward even remembered that his little brother did not like thunderstorms.
Edward was already up and about when Al walked into their room, much to the latter's surprise, for it was merely just past eight.
"Hey brother," Al said, shutting the door behind him. "You're up early; everything alright?"
Ed shook his head once:
"I couldn't sleep at all…Listen, Al, you have to let me go out and hunt tonight. I can't take it anymore, I just need a small fix of human blood…but I need it."
He saw Al shoot him a dark look. The younger of the two gulped, sitting down on the edge of his bed as he spoke:
"You know I can't let you do that, brother."
"You don't understand, Al," Ed said pleadingly, desperately running a hand through his tangled hair. "You're in serious danger here with me while I'm like this, I'm—I'm scared for you, Al, please—"
"But you can't leave the hotel!" Al said, shaking his head firmly. Ed paused for a moment or so, then spoke out again:
"Then at least let me go sneak into a random room and—"
"No, brother, are you crazy? Do you know how much suspicion that would cause?"
"I. need. human. blood."
The vampire sighed heavily and pointed a shaking hand behind him; Al looked to where Ed pointed and felt his heart drop down into the pit of his stomach.
"…You went through all of that blood already?"
"I needed it. I couldn't sate myself."
"It's only been five days since we got that…"
Ed opened his mouth to defend himself, but ended up just bowing his head in shame.
"…You don't understand, Al," he spoke in a broken voice. "I'm trying my best—trying so hard, for you, but…this is harder than I had anticipated. I need human blood now, or else I might hurt you. And I promised I would never hurt you again.."
Alphonse stared into Ed's bloodstained pupils, the twinge of fear he felt for his own well-being almost consenting to allow the beast to go out and hunt. But the events of the day replayed within his mind, reminding him of the seriousness of the military situation. Brigadier General Mustang was being secretly investigated, for goodness' sake! And on top of that Armstrong's nosy concern for Alphonse was beginning to get out of hand. It seemed like everybody in HQ knew that someone inside the military was connected very closely to the murderer…Therefore it was imperative that Ed stayed away from feeding off of humans inside and out of their hotel…
But if he really needs human blood as much as he says he does, then…then what will become of me during the night?
The younger Elric immediately averted his eyes from the vampire, getting up from the bed he was still seated upon in haste. As he approached the bathroom door, he paused before entering.
"…Sorry, Ed, but you can't have human blood anymore."
…`c.n.`…
Edward slumped onto the floor, his mind clouded with gluttonous bloodlust. His loose, long hair covered his pallid, hungered expression as he tried with every ounce of his strength not to accidently take a breath.
I don't know what I'm going to do, what I can do. I'm losing control fast, I can feel it…Does Al not understand just how delicious he smells to me? My throat is burning!
Ed's eyes widened even more at his thoughts. They were his and truly his, for the beast was not yet taking over. Unless he and the thing inside of him had truly at last become one. This disturbed him greatly, for he just called his own brother delicious, as if he were a piece of meat rather than a human being he truly loved and cared for. The disgusted vampire buried his face into his hands, refusing to breath for the fear of inhaling the sweet scent of Alphonse's blood…
…I have fallen again; this is the end;
Pain redefined.
…`c.n.`…