USA 2015

Electricity. That was the only way she could explain it. Beautiful, blue electricity. It was hard to picture this electricity as beautiful when it was painful, but surprisingly, it was.

She was aware that her feet were stuck to the ground, no matter how hard she tried to pull them off, they were just stuck there, as if they had a mind of their own. She was also was aware of the blood-curdling screaming. It was a mixture of her own, her mother's and someone else. It sounded vaguely masculine, though a bit high pitched.

The only thing running through her mind was the pain, the unbelievable pain that arced throughout her entire being and the fleeting thought of escape. That is until someone had tackled her like a linebacker trying to recover a football from the other team. The sudden release from the blue swaths of light and power was more shocking than being the literal end of her personal barbecue (pun not intended). She was sure that she was inside her miniature hell for only half a minute at the least, but she could already feel the pulls of unconsciousness lulling her into false sleep.

She blinked rapidly, as she stared at the greying sky. As she continued to blink, the scene switched to an entirely different new one. The sky was replaced by a brown roof, particularly one that was moving slightly, like a car. there was a lot of commotion, mostly consisting running, yelling, and the faint sound of a train ride. Everything was distinctly becoming darker and darker as she started to lose consciousness, and she could faintly hear a boy calling someone's name.

"_d! Ed! C_n you h_r m_?" As the girl's sight faded away, her last conscious thoughts were, who the hell is Ed? then everything faded black.

Past: Two hours ago

"Sandra come on! We don't want to be late!" Yelled her mother. Sandra could already see the annoyance, fear and concern in her mother's face, even though she was at the bottom of the steps, beyond her sight. The truth was, Sandra really didn't want to go. She was just as afraid like her mother, maybe a bit more.

She was getting dressed as her mother rushed her to hurry, because she was going to visit the cemetery, the same cemetery her sister was buried in.

"Coming mom!" She yelled back.

For three years she had skillfully avoided going to the cemetery with her mother. The first time, she had a panic attack, and it took her mother at least an hour to get her to calm down. The second, she faked illness, and the third, she had simply gone into her hiding spot that her mother couldn't find and camped there until her mother just left.

It was a small panel that gave away when she pushed it slightly, and inside was enough room for at least three people. She had discovered it years ago with her sister, and it was their secret. Now, it was her's alone.

She had agreed with her mother that she would come with her, whether she wanted to back out or not. Sandra remembered the last-night conversation, especially when she expressed her fear of another panic attack, her mother had just simply wrapped her arms around her and said, "you can ask your sister for help." After that, she was too shocked to try and protest.

Sandra grasped her phone, mainly for her music to keep her company, and she also took her headset, a few pencils, and her favorite drawing book. She was determined to distract herself as much as possible during their time in the cemetery.

Sandra snagged a glance across her room. So much had changed over the past three years. The window shades were shut tight, giving the room an old look. In a matter of seconds she pushed away the blinds letting rays of light spill into her room.

This action caught her off guard and she quickly shut them. This wasn't the first time she did this. Ever since her sister's death, she was at war with herself, deciding to never look at the world again with a sense of happiness or color, but always backfiring herself. She took a deep breath and mumbled, "let's get it over with."

On the car ride to the cemetery, Sandra saw some of her friends walking. They were laughing, and teasing each other about boys or something. They seemed like strangers, distant people of an unknown planet, after her sister's death. She had deliberately separated herself from them, friends didn't seem like anything important anymore.

One of her friends, Micheal, saw her in the car and waved. Sandra managed a small one in return before the car passed them completely. Her phone bleeped very audibly and she checked what it was. In the space of time that it took her mother's car to pass by her group of old friends, Micheal had sent a message. It read,

Mike: Say hi to her for me will ya? Also, what have you been doing lately? We miss you.

Sandra stared at her phone in astonishment. There was no absolute way he could've known that she was going to the cemetery to visit her sister. Plus, who was he to try and investigate what she did in her spare time? Her reply was quick and swift.

Bubbs: She would rather you visit in person and what I do is my business and my business alone.

She sat there, contemplating the outcomes of the text that she had sent. Would he be hurt, or curious as to what she was doing? Her receiving message was enough for an answer,

Mike: Alright, you got me. I'll say hi to her in person. I saw you a couple days ago, drawing something. What was it?

She rolled her eyes. How could a guy be so perceptive in one moment and then absolutely clueless the next? Before she could stop herself, she texted back,

Bubbs: you.

She wanted to smack herself. In that one simple three letter text, she had practically implied that Micheal was an idiot. In a matter of thirty seconds, the conversation had become this,

Mike: ...Doing what?

Bubbs: hugging someone.

Mike: ...hugging?...you?

Bubbs: no. Her.

Mike: uhh...okay. Is it for her?

Bubbs: That's need to know info.

After that, Micheal didn't bother to reply. It didn't take a genius to understand that this was for her sister. Anything that had to do with Micheal was for her sister.

Five minutes later, Sandra and her mother arrived at the cemetery. As her mother parked the car, Sandra took in her surroundings.

The grave markers stood up from the ground, like the jagged teeth of a monster. The small building sat near the entrance and it had a sign that was unreadable from her distance. The whole area was bleak, old and grey, apart from the black gates that surrounded the church building. She frowned, thinking, My god, someone needs to put some color in here. Some flowers maybe?

Her eye's widened as she realized what she just thought. My ass they need color. It's gonna clash with the ugly grey.

She shook her head. Damnit. She thought. It's no use, trying to cut off the old me.

She sighed. Might as well live with it.

She stepped out of the car, savoring the crisp, cool air of the wind. She stood there, hoping to forget about everything until she heard her mother swear some unsightly words.

"Sandra, can you be a sweetheart and buy some flowers in that building over there? They sell them as well as gravestones." She rolled her eyes. "Mom, I told you not to call me 'sweetheart'. And fine, I'll get some flowers."

She stalked off, muttering about the damned flowers and their worthless purpose for the day, skirting around small and large stones alike and traveling down a small, narrow pathway to the church yard, where she came upon a rather confusing problem.

There was a giant red puddle on the ground, between the gateway to her destination and where she was now.

She squatted on her haunches, trying to figure out where the liquid had come from. It certainly didn't pop up there, they had just walked through a minute ago. Nonetheless, it was there, mocking her with the silence of a predestined failure.

Sandra stood up, determined to get past without hindrance. So what did it matter if she got her boots wet? That's what they were for, but even then she couldn't help but feel a unrelenting sense of danger.

She stepped forward, into the puddle, and followed up with her left foot. After that she couldn't seem to lift her legs off the ground. Trying to figure out what was going on, she was engulfed by bright blue sparks of lightning, and stabbed with racing pain.

She was confused, shocked, and fearful at the same time. She didn't know what else to do but one thing, and she chose that option. She started to scream.

Amestris 1913

Alphonse could barely contain his disappointment in his brother. Once again he was watching his big brother flip out as someone called him short. Edward could never contain himself, even during the most difficult situations. Like now, for instance.

They were in the middle of stopping another train hijack and some random man involved with the heist underestimated Ed, and he was drastically paying for it right now.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A TINY LITTLE PIPSQUEAK!?" demanded the blonde. He clapped his hands together and transmuted his right arm into a hand-sword, charging the man. The guy (who had unfortunately insulted Ed) lifted his rifle a tad too late as it was cut clean in two, rendering it useless. Just as the stranger's gaze followed the second half of his fallen rifle, Ed delivered a straight punch into the man's abdomen, causing him to crumple to the floor.

Short outburst over with, Alphonse started on giving Ed a lecture on keeping his cool.

"Brother please, he never said that." he said. No matter how hard he tried to teach Ed about the word "calm", the word always went out the window, be it train, car or room window.

"He still meant the same thing!" retorted the blond.

It was funny, how the young alchemist was only fourteen and yet he had the mannerisms of a child. He clapped again, and transmuted the hand sword back into his very useful automail.

Alphonse tried to reason with his brother again, if only he had the chance. The train jarred violently, swinging Ed and Al off balance. Ed landed on the seats of the train, while Alphonse was more graceful in regaining his balance.

"That...wasn't...part of the...plan...dammit." the man said. Despite being punched in the gut by a teen with training, he was still trying to fight. He pushed himself up, supported by his arms.

After stumbling back onto the train's walkway, Edward stalked forward and grabbed the man by his shirt collar then demanded, "What plan bastard?"

The man laughed with scorn, despite the menacing look in the gold eyes that watched him with a silent threat. "You think I'll tell you? I'm not gonna tell you or your armored buddy flapjack squat."

"Five second warning!" yelled Ed. "What was the plan?!"

The man paused, then he tilted his head,and smiled, all the while wasting the five meager seconds he was given. His smile widened. "That's need to know information."

Shirt collar released, Ed stepped back and sent a flying kick across the man's face. He lay sprawled against the floor, unmoving.

"Well, he's going to be out for a while." Ed said. "We'll question him first when we stop this mess, alright?" He glanced back, looking for the acceptance of his brother.

"Uhh, yeah okay. First we need to find out what happened to the other cars here" he said.

Ed started forward, making sure to sidestep the unconscious man to get to the other car. He opened the door, sure of himself that there wouldn't be some weird plethora of things waiting for him. Boy, was he wrong.

"Nice to see you. Fullmetal." The woman that said this was right across the door from where Ed was standing, in front of the next door at the end of the car. Separating them was a large red puddle on the floor. Al instantly knew what it was.

"Brother, it's red water, you know the one you stepped on in the fifth la-"

"Shut up!" Ed hissed. While he sent an apologetic glance at his brother, he tilted his head towards the mysterious lady.

She laughed. "So you know what this is then. Great, at least it saves a couple of minutes explaining this to you."

"What do you want with this? It's dangerous enough breathing in it's fumes." Al asked.

"You're the one to talk, armor boy." She retorted. "It's not like you know what it's like breathing this in. And as for what we want," she smiled wolfishly, greed written plainly on her face. "We want your brother."

Ed and Al stepped backwards together. How the hell could she have known about Al, Ed thought. And why does this psycho want me?

The woman glanced behind them, towards the arm that lay limply on the ground. She started to pout. "You took out Chello? Oh well, we can spare the minor setback."

The lady then crossed her hands behind her back and a small Click was heard. The wolfish smile appeared again. "Breaks." she said.

Al had only muttered "what?" before the whole train jarred again. Al, already conscious of the fact that Ed would be sent flying towards the red water, reached out only to grab a fistful of his red coat.

While he was saved from landing face first into the deadly substance, it didn't stop him from stepping into it.

"ED!" Al yelled. Rarely he used his own brother's name. The first time was when his whole being was pulled into truth. And now, Ed was going through the same thing he went through the night they went into the fifth Laboratory.

Ed never responded. He couldn't considering the fact that he was in a swirling vortex of blue electricity and pain.

He didn't try to move as the alchemical reaction of the red water swirled around him like wisps of blue flame. Ed was taking deep breathes, trying to suppress the never ending urge to scream, and his eyes were closed.

Don't freak out. Don't freak out, he thought. He vaguely heard Al calling him from behind, but it was hard to zone in on just his voice, since there were many sounds taking place. The rushing swirls, the alchemical reaction, the woman's laughter, and of course, Al's voice.

Just as he couldn't take the pain anymore, it stopped, suddenly, as if someone turned off the lights in the situation. There was no sound either, everything that had assaulted his ears had disappeared within a single second.

Ed felt an incredible emptiness inside himself. Almost like a void, or exactly like a void, and he couldn't help but sense the feeling that someone was watching him, amusingly, like a pet owner watching a small puppy run in circles.

For the first moment in a large stretch of time, Ed was afraid to open his eyes.

"Aren't you glad to see me again, young alchemist?"

"Whether I'm glad or not, I don't know why I'm here." He responded, eyes still locked shut.

"Well that's a shame, considering that your friend, just dropped by to say 'hello.'" It was the chuckles which followed afterwards that forced Ed to open his eyes, and stare at the empty smile of Truth.