Claret Tears
Bane: "This acts as an accompanyment slash remake of the –most fun- part of Chapter 7 for Brought to Light."
Drumstick; " Yes, it is a songfic."
A; "And the song? It's called Tourniquet, played by Evanescence.
Bane; "Ready?"
Edward scanned the floor for something sharp (or dull) that lay unused (or really rusty). And at last, he spotted a twoinch nail. In the center of the room now, he braced himself. He recuperated his will by remembering Winry's cry of anguish. It only took one swipe and it began.
I tried to kill the pain,
But only brought more…
(So much more)
She met him at the door.
"Winry, is everything all right?"
"Al, Al. Oh…I found…a notebook…"
She trailed off amid her tears.
"It's in my room…I'll show it to you…Just…follow me…"
Blood abruptly began flowing down from his fingertips, the scarlet fluid giving a bitter aroma to the surrounding air.
Finally, he thought. Finally.
Masses of red liquid puddled around him. A pang of loss swept through him at the sight of it. Too late to turn back now.
Only a few minutes past, he began to feel slightly dizzy. A sudden rush came to his head. Edward fell, his knees colliding with the wooden attic floor.
I lay dying, and I'm pouring crimson regret… and betrayal.
I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming!
She led them into her room. Frantically, she clawed at the journal, holding it up for Alphonse to read.
"Please…Al. Please. Help him!"
Something dripped down from the ceiling onto the white pages of the booklet. It was crimson and…a drop of blood. More followed, now falling as though a morbid rain had come to haunt those who had failed to protect its previous captive. The blood had leaked through the floorboards, soaking the ceiling through.
Am I too lost; to be saved?
Am I too lost?
The claret tears flowed more swiftly now. Winry let out a scream that resounded through the house, echoing in a mimick of her torment.
Everything was fading, now everything was slipping slowly into shadows. But among the darkness, one thing remained; Winry.
Even near to death, he recalled the scent of the perfume she wore irregularly, her presence…her smile. These memories, too, began to slip away.
Can't forget her. Can't lose her.
Once more, he abruptly hated himself. But not enough to die.
My God, My Tourniquet,
Return to me Salvation!
My God, My Tourniquet,
Return to me Salvation…
"Oh…my…god…"
She was crying again. She thought that by now, Ed was gone. Ed was…no longer part of this world; no longer part of her world.
Do you remember me?
Lost for so long…
Will you be on the other side?
Or will you forget me?
He staggered to his feet, faltering for a moment. Ed had lost too much blood. If only he could reach the door, and wrench it open, he could be heard.
I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming!
Am I too lost; to be saved?
Am I too lost?
He lost his balance, collapsing onto the entryway. But even in his desperation, he knew he no longer had the strength to get it open.
My God, My Tourniquet,
Return to me Salvation!
My God, My Tourniquet,
Return to me Salvation…
(Return to me Salvation!)
My God, My Tourniquet,
Return to me Salvation!
My God, My Tourniquet,
Return to me Salvation…
Edward fell to the floor, and lay on his back, facing the portal to his salvation, and still, he hadn't the ability to stand. In a final attempt at survival, he kicked against the door with his metal leg. One…Two…Three…Four…No answer.
My wounds cry for the grave,
My soul cries for deliverance!
He began to shake violently. And for the first time in years of hidden agony, he wasn't afraid to lay there and sob, tears burning as they ran down his cheeks.
Will I be...Denied…
Christ, Tourniquet,
My Suicide…