Sorry, I'm reposting Chapter 8 for the sake of a lovely reader (you know who you are) so I am doing this for you. Sorry, the repsonds to the commenters (word?) will not be here as they were before, same go's with Chapter 7. So if you already read this chapter, just ignore the fact its on again, and if you just started reading this story, feel free to read and reveiw please! (p.s. IM MRS. GERARD WAY! BWHAHAHA!)

Chapter 8: A River of Crimson


It was a beautiful, spring day. Gentle winds blew softly across the green fields, and the sun shone brightly upon the Earth. It was a day for happiness, and love, but a mother and child held each other dearly, weeping with each other as the clouds rolled endlessly by in the blue sky.

Edward hugged his mother tightly, his clenched fists tightly grasping the lavender fabric of her dress. Her warm hand gently caressed his ruffled, golden hair; his tear stained face buried in her lap as stifled cries filled the mournful air.

"Shh," Trisha started, as she lightly kissed atop of her crying son, "Don't worry my little man, everything will be alright." She hugged him closer, thus making his fists loosen a bit.

"But," he began to choke, his face still in her lap, "Winry's parents…they're gone! She can never see them again!" he looked up into his mother's warm, brown eyes; tears ran down his flushed cheeks as he stuttered. She gave him a loving smile, and closed her eyes gently,

"But she will always have you and your brother to love," she said slowly. She knelt down on to one knee, looking her son in his golden, wet eyes, and embraced him lovingly. Edward's cries began to soften, as he returned a hug around her neck. He abruptly shut his eyes, trying to hold back his tears. A small smile broke through h his depressing frown, and his mind settled a bit. A warm silence developed between them as the sun's rays loomed over restlessly above them.

"But…" she quietly started, "You won't have me to love anymore."

Edward slightly gasped as he opened his eyes; the sun was no longer present and the winds were fierce. The sky was pitch black, and the ground was covered with thick ash that rained from the evil sky above him. He looked back to where his home once was; he saw the red and orange flames lick evilly at the collapsing house. Windows shattered and black smoke rose quickly, leaving no trace of what was once burned.

All of a sudden, a painful scream escaped his shocked throat. He fell from his mother's cold embrace on to the hard ground, screaming uncontrollably.

He shockingly glanced down towards his left leg, and watched frighteningly as Hell's flames ate away at his skin. He was almost slightly mesmerized by the flaming colors inching up towards his limb, tearing away at the fabric and eating away almost to his bone. He started to cough horribly, as smoke invaded within his lungs; he fell closer to the ground. Ashes were in his eyes, and he could not see anything before him. He kicked his leg, and rolled it upon the dirt as much as he could; screams were no longer of any purpose for the burning pain had left him, and he grew tired. His face winced, and he was breathing heavily as he looked up to where his mother was above him in the dark smoke.

"You won't have me to love anymore."

Edward gasped a final scream; his dying mother stood before him, engulfed in flames from head to toe. He watched as they tore away at her body; all he could see of her was her beautiful eyes, glistening with tears, but then, a final flame covered the last bit of her, and she was no longer with her son. A drop of blood escaped from her last lid.

The heat grew more intense on Edward's limb, his screams unbearable,

"Someone! Please! Help me! My mom!" he cried; he watched his ashy tears hit the ground below him, forming a puddle of blood. His breaths were shorter and scratchy, he couldn't breath and he couldn't take the pain.

"Al…where are you? Mom…" was all he could manage to breath. All of a sudden, the area around him grew silent. He was in a vacant area, with nothing around him. No more intense heat, no more flames…no more limbs.

Edward screamed as he noticed his arm and leg were gone, blood poured from his open wounds as he tried to desperately stop the flow. Unbearable pain ran through the only veins in his body; he winced every time a tear escaped his eyes.

He did not know how long time had passed, but poor little Edward sat there, surrounded by nothing but black. Nobody was there, and nothing was there. He was alone; his wounds continued to bleed without stopping. Yet he sat there, crying uncontrollably. Only did he noticed a perfectly preserved silver pocket watch along his side. He couldn't remember anything about it; it just sat there by him as the lion engraving on the front stared at him evilly.

He looked back down at where his limbs were once missing, only to find mechanical limbs. They shone in the only mysterious light above him, he pondered at what had just happened. He brought up his tired head, and noticed in front of him a black coffin. He slowly rose on to his legs, and walked on his new limb, and listened to it clank against the ground.

"Mom…?" he whispered, "Is that you?" a small smile grew on his bloody jaw.

He continued to walk. But no matter how much he walked, the evil coffin remained in the same place. His eyes began to sting, as he started running frantically. He forgot he was holding the mysterious pocket watch in his real hand.

"Mom?" he choked. He was running in the same place, he couldn't get near to his mother. He stopped, and fell on to his rear, more sorrowful tears escaping.

He looked up, and gasped. A mysterious silloute stood over the coffin. A tall figure, with a beard and long golden hair tied back into a ponytail; he simply loomed over the coffin. His glasses reflected an odd light as he glared depressingly.

"Hohenheim!" Edward's teeth gritted, and his burnt eyebrows frowned. His knuckles cracked loudly as his grip around the pocket watch tightened; he threw his arm behind him and forcefully let it leave his own hand, hoping it would dangerously hit the figure and cause him pain.

All of a sudden, the watch mysteriously disappeared in the air with a blinding flash; Edward stood dumbstruck as he watched another smaller figure come out of nowhere near his father.

Alphonse…

Edward tried to scream, but no words came out. He stood there alone, watching his father embrace his only brother. He could hear his brother's soft cries travel through the empty air.

Why can't they see me, why can't they hear me, Edward thought.

He was alone.


Edward awoke, and found himself panting on his back, staring up at the slow ceiling fan above him. His eyes were sore, and his fevered brow was covered in sweat. He found himself clutching the sheets around him very tightly; in the corner of his eye he found a small bloodstain upon the white sheets where his left hand was grasping. He looked at the flesh of his palm, and gasped as he saw four small incisions in his skin, caused by the clenching of his fists. His fingernails had dug into his hand due to the earlier terror.

He took a final breath, and slowly sat himself upright. He forgot he was still in his clothes he wore that day; he glanced over to the clock on his nightstand and noticed it was 5:30 PM. He had napped for at least an hour or two. He was about to swing his legs over his bed until he heard a quiet knock at his door. Ed didn't respond in any way.

The door slowly creaked open, "Ed? Are you awake?"

Edward's eyebrows quickly frowned, "Mm."

Alphonse slowly walked in, facing the floor. He quietly shut the door and made his way towards the bed. He noticed his brother, and he noticed the bloodied sheets. He sat at the end of the mattress, "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Edward's tone became harsher with each word he continued to say. Alphonse quickly turned away and began to twiddle his fingers nervously. Edward's expression continued to stay angry; he refused to look up at his brother.

It was quiet for a while; the clock beside the bed ticked annoyingly with each minute that went by.

"Did you have that dream again?" Alphonse asked quietly. Edward's eyes widened, and his fists started to clench the sheets again. He took a sigh, but still didn't look up at his brother.

"Yeah, but there was a different ending," he said angrily. Alphonse looked over his shoulder sadly, knowing that he has done something to upset his stressed brother. But why would he be mad? Yet again, he was always mad. He thought about the full can of medication pills in the cupboard that Edward never bothered to take anymore.

"Al?" Ed asked loudly. He was finally standing on his legs, he stood tall and stared up at the ceiling, as if trying to get a cramp out of his back, "You wouldn't keep secrets from me…right?"

Alphonse tried to halt a small gasp, and he quickly looked down and shook his head, "No, why?" the twiddling of his fingers intensified.

Edward walked quickly across the wooden floor, and made his way to the door, "You're my brother, my own flesh and blood. You know you can tell me anything. Even if you think it would get me mad." He tried to keep his voice low; he hated being angry with Al.

"I know." Was all he heard from his brother back on the bed. Edward reached out towards the doorknob and he intended to leave without saying good-bye. All of a sudden, another hand reached out for the knob before his did; his brother made his way out of the room before Ed could leave. Alphonse stood out in the hallway in front of a dumbstruck Edward, his back facing him,

"But technically, with you, it's not all flesh anymore."

And with that simple sentence, he made his way quickly down the hall. Edward could have sworn he heard a nervous hiccup somewhere in that sentence, but he continued to stand. He was clenching his fists again, a trickle of crimson managed to escape his once empty wounds on his left hand.

"Al!" Ed yelled down the hall; his voice echoed in the empty area. Al halted quickly in front of his bedroom door, his fists trembling.

Edward took in a nervous breath of air, "How is he?"

Alphonse slowly turned around, "What?" Edward noticed his eyes, his silver eyes, were glistening in the lights.

"You heard me," Edward choked on his words, "How is he."

Alphonse's hand was now on the doorknob; he hesitated whether or not he should enter. He quickly wiped his wet eyes, and turned around, hoping his older brother didn't notice anything.

Soon enough, Edward was alone in the hallway, with a small river of blood running down on to the floor. He stood there, without an answer; the sound of a slammed door traveled through the hall.


chapter 9 will get on quikcly i assume, because it would proably also be short, not sure though. PLEASE REVIEW! (puppy dog eyes)