Red Light District
by Me And My God Complex
Don't own FMA. Who wants Rodney back? And RoyEd won. New OC coming up! I love him!
X.O.X.O.X
"I'm going straight to hell for this. I don't care though. I hate waiting in line."
X.O.X.O.X
Back again, are we? Really, does this tale interest you that much? For it is not all fun and games, not all humourous situations including the beautiful yet level-minded Liza Hawkeye. There is more to this story than just the passionate blond, Edward Elric dressing in tight leather and 'shaking his moneymakers' as some less cultured may say.
The murderer still sullies the already dirtied streets, eyes, long pushed past the brink of insanity, watching and waiting. He (though the gender is currently unknown by the militia) executes with well-planned ferocity his sinful crimes. An alchemist is he, one trained enough that an array is enough to end the miserable existence of his prey, and those who attempt to interfere. Remember Terri, barely a child. His throat was slit for his love and loyalty to his mother.
Voice box slashed, he could not cry out. The life meaning as much as that of a bluebottle fly stuck to flypaper. Even if someone heard...what would it really matter. Over 98 of the population in the Red light would not pay heed, going back to their gambling, sex and drinking.
'I just wanted to help mama...'
Innocence is not a sin. Curiosity is not a sin. You would find yourself in tight situations as a child, I am sure, where your childish thirst for knowledge made adults do the ever popular Avoidance. Heaven's Gates will open for those who ask 'Where do babies come from?' though a killer who's last words to his victim are, 'Do you mind if I slice up your son?' will surely be sent straight to the fiery depths of hell, or whatever end comes after death.
Strippers offend the Catholic idea of how God looks at the world and how He judges his people. Though in Amestris, this religion has long faded out. The only popular religion in fact, among the large country is Ishvarlan beliefs. Does this tie in to the campaign against those of a different race by those who consider them above all with their alchemy?
But that is beside the point. I should get back to my story, should I not?
We will pick up the thread of this masterful tale at the point whereupon Edward returns from his shift after the departure of Mustang. He will, as always, walk the streets with familiar ease, confident that he could fight off any attacker, even an insane alchemist. Whether or not his belief in his abilities is sound or not is for you to discover.
Alas, before I set ourselves down on Twinkling Street, I shall go more in depth with a non-canon part of this play of life. Her name is Summer Winche, current baby sitter and best friend of a one Alphonse Elric, who I assume us to all be familiar with.
Summer's mother was a Gambling Mistress, or Gana as they are 'affectionately' dubbed. A Gambling Mistress, or Gana, is a woman who wears skimpy dresses and outfits while patrolling casinos like a panther. Hired by the owner, they are there purely for the pleasure of the customers and profit of the boss.
They do their best to get the people so intoxicated that they slip up on their cards and pour more money into the House, or use their looks and bodies for distraction, with the same results. They are rather well-paid and not required to sleep with anyone unless they want to. Many in the Red Light covet this job above others, but it's hard to get in.
The woman had been raped. She was kicked off the job once she got swollen and ugly, but still kept a love for the child growing within her. Summer was in fact born in the winter, and her mother named her so because her beautiful baby daughter reminded her of her namesake: Summer. She adored her child. But love cannot feed anyone, or provide shelter. Her mother barely made it with drug dealing until Summer turned six; then her mother perished.
After an attempted pick-pocketing on a well-dressed teen, Summer was then taken under the wing of said teen, who was older than her by many years. He secured her enough money and paid for a cheap apartment. However, hopes for the future lay in his eyes, and he left for war. Of course, it was a long war, so when she turned twelve, she was sent a letter instead of the normal money which informed her of the death of her kind 'older brother'.
Summer was distressed, but quickly pushed away the emotion to survive on the streets as a petty thief. It wasn't until her twentieth birthday (on which she was heavily considering full-time prostitution—she had already done it a few occasions, when times were tougher) that Edward took her in, and provided a roof and and food in exchange for looking after his younger brother.
She is one of the few who know of the brother's true identities, and knows a majority of their past. Do not feel pity and horror at her past, for there are far worst in this district. She is only one of hundreds of orphans. And so, Summer is introduced, and we may continue...
X.O.X.O.X
Edward, contacts still in yet not under the persona of 'Cookie' strolled the street, which led to their shabby apartment, thoughts on the past night. Dawn was just beginning to peak, meaning some of the more horrid activities were being ended for the daylight. However, day time in the Red Light was just as busy as the nights.
"Midnight, huh?" Muttered the blond as he spied his lodgings. "More like Mustang. Does he think he's fooling me? It might of worked, if Hawkeye hadn't come in." A mental image of Liza in a dress popped up, and Edward shook his head in slight fear and exhaustion.
"The real question is, did he recognize me or not?" The young man chewed his lip as he made his way up rickety stairs, having entered his building. "I dunno about Hawkeye, but Mustang looked pretty oblivious. Dumb ass."
Since thoughts on the Flame alchemist brought on unpleasant pangs of sadness, Edward pushed the man out of his head as he used the key to their apartment. As he entered, he made sure to call out, "Summer, Al? I'm back."
He made sure to do so, since Summer was always ready to toss a blade at any unwelcome intruders. Edward had no wish to repeat this experience.
"Hey there my fluffy-wuffy-cuddly-wuddly-huggable-wuggable-Eddy-kins!" Chorused two voices, on e male, the other female, as he shut and locked the door. He turned with a scowl on his face to the two, who were seated on Alphonse's bed
The duo had come up with a fun game to see which name they used would get him to blush. Sadists, in Edward's opinion. "Why do you always do this?" Whined the stripper, hanging up his black coat. he knew better than to drop it on the floor. Last time he'd done it, Summer had Alphonse stitch on a kitty to the back.
"Sorry Brother, but you're fun to mess with." Replied Alphonse cheerfully, going back to embroidering a cat on what looked suspiciously like one of the elder brother's boxers. "Have a nice time at work?" Asked Alphonse, eying the 'ooh, sparkly' drag top he'd chosen himself. He was, in fact, in full support of his brother's job.
"Yah. Great. Mustang is working there. Nothing interesting." Answered Edward, flopping onto a battered and torn cough with a sigh of relief. He would go to sleep after catching up with his younger brother.
"Mustang?" Asked Summer, confusing in her hazel eyes. "Isn't he your old commanding officer?" She blinked in surprise, Alphonse mimicking their actions. Edward shrugged.
"He and Hawkeye. I have no idea why." He answered, eyes drifting shut for a second as he fought the desire to sleep. Summer shook her head, picking up a blanket to cover Edward with.
"Go to sleep." She ordered. The blinds and curtains were already closed, and she made her way back to her bed. The trio were nocturnal, sleeping days and living the nightlife. It was not an uncommon pattern to be witnessed in the Red Light, meaning they weren't too worried about being awoken from too loud members of the apartment complex.
And so the occupants began to nod off, Alphonse staying up just enough to finish the felines whiskers, dropping the boxers as he passed out from exhaustion. All was silent.
X.O.X.O.X
Roy and Liza, too hyped up on coffee and planning a scout for the killer (guess who for each reason) didn't go to sleep upon reaching their dumpy little motel. Liza had changed into a more comfortable black skirt and jacket. Currently, the alchemist was planning his outfit for the next night, and the sharpshooter was helping through her natural woman's instinct for stripper's fashion.
"Roy, that top will be hard to pull off for a beginner. The sequins might catch." Commented Hawkeye, straightforward as ever. "Go for the beaded one. It will show off your nipples." Sometimes that very same straightforwardness made Roy go pink.
He tried said top, marveling at the fact that this was the first time he'd worn nothing but boxers in the same room as a hot woman. Too bad this woman was First Lieutenant Liza Hawkeye, who would never date Roy. Ah well. There were plenty more fish in the sea.
The dark haired man would deny ever thinking of men along with his usual collection of woman that day, as he gave a fashion show to the blond who was daily threatening him with a gun.
Ahh, the way life works, the fickleness of the human actions...
"Perfect." Announced Liza, before smiling gently. "Now, why don't you get some sleep? I already did last night. I'm going to go look for anyone suspicious." Roy flopped down on the cheap mattress, having taking off his beaded top. He raised an eyebrow at the blond.
"Liza, it's the Red Light District. What isn't suspicious?" The man asked, amazed, squirming in order to get comfortable. The woman rolled her eyebrows as she checked one of her guns. She offered no answer before setting out.
After the final click of the door, Mustang buried his head under a pillow, trying to get comfortable on the stiff mattress. All his beds at home were big, fluffy soft ones. And Roy tended to sleep naked. He was going to have a hard time adjusting.
"Damn that killer. Couldn't he go get hit by a car?" Roy growled into the pillow, onyx eyes shutting as he began to lull off to dreamland.
X.O.X.O.X
Liza Hawkeye was all business as she wandered the winding and twisting streets. They were small, and were only populated by foot traffic. Only the four main streets of Karnon (on which Pleasure Pulse was located) Xenon, Frigoli and Jarnston were wide enough to encompass cars, while the remaining roads were only to be walked on.
If it weren't for how sullied the district was, it could be picturesque. Many of the buildings had been for nearly a century, with faded fronts and worn out stoops. The cobblestone roads were adorable, despite the random bloodstains and other fluids.
Liza walked with care, cinnamon eyes keeping a sharp lookout for anybody who looked remotely suspicious. She blinked as she surveyed Lambstrong Street. Scratch that. Anything suspicious for alchemy. It was well-known that the Red Light boasted the largest supply of illegal alchemy books, and other things for the science that no decent alchemist would use.
As the lieutenant sat down on a large plant the had some sort of small tree growing out of it, she considered what was known of the murderer. He (the assumed gender in a tad-sexist world) used alchemy of some sort to make his victim's heads explode, and the rest of their body bubble then explode, covering the stripper in blood. There was only two known alchemists who could pull that off, Scar and Kimblee, but they were both dead.
He probably lived in the Red Light, was strong enough to grab his prey, and stalked his prey for a few days before killing them. This was known through the fact that the co-workers of the dead mentioned how the victim felt like they were being watched.
Once he was done killing his victims, he disposed of them in market squares and such in the 'cleaner' part of Central. Always public places. And, for some reason, places where people sold things from stalls. Never any other public place. It wasn't very much to go on, but the killer was secretive, quick and deadly.
"Hell-o there missus." Liza was brought back from her thoughts when a scruffy man who wearing, oddly enough, a top hat that looked rather used. He gave her a charming smile, tipping his bowler hat to her. "Are ya looking for someone?"
Liza gave him a look somewhere between a glare and a glance of confusion. "And you are?" She asked, hand in her lap shifting slightly so she could pull out her gun if needed. But the top hat-man was not to be deterred, and sat down next to the woman.
"Rio Samuels, missus. I just thought you looked mighty lonesome." Rio explained, giving her another one of his charming smiles that could dazzle Roy's. From her position, she could see his shoulder-length, shaggy hair was dark, probably black, although it might simply be dirty, and his eyes were a light blue. He reminded her an awful lot of Mustang.
"Are you trying to flirt with me?" Asked Liza, giving him a distrustful look. Rio chuckled, smiling down at the blond. Putting one hand on his chest, he mocked a look of fake horror, eyes twinkling in amusement.
"How could you think that of me." He cried, obviously amused. Liza watched people ignore them as they passed by, obviously used to weird sights in the Red Light. Rio immediately became serious, giving her a sly look. "Though I suppose you're suspicious. You're looking for a killer after all, missus Liza Hawkeye."
Her head, which had dropped a bit with her guard, shot up. Her whole body stiffened as she glared at the man, one hand wrapping around her gun. She was prepared to draw it any second as her cinnamon eyes pinned Rio down. "How did you know my name?"
"A little birdie told me, missus." Answered Rio, who hardly looked bothered under her glare. He just sat there, completely nonchalant, fingers wined together as he watched her expectantly. Liza did not falter, however confused she was from his reaction.
Whipping one of her guns out, she held it against his temple. There was only mild interest among the civilians, who would probably just stand by if she splattered his brains against the sidewalk, then return to their daily business. "Tell me, or I will be forced to take action." It wasn't a simple threat. She was honestly scared that this man knew her name, since she was rather undercover. In fact, the name she'd used to book the hotel was Liza Simpson.
"If you were to kill me, missus, you wouldn't get no answers." Pointed out Rio, blue eyes meeting her own cinnamon ones. He winked at her, one hand pushing her gun down. Amazingly, she let him. "Answers is what you want, missus."
"Stop talking like you know me." Ordered Hawkeye, strapping her gun back in place. She was very lost, since the strange man obviously knew more than what he was letting on. The woman decided to play along, eyes narrowing. "And what answers would that be? Mind telling?"
"I would mind, missus." Answered Rio, in a slightly sing-song voice. "If you had all the answers, you would have seen the Truth." Liza blinked. Truth? He made it sound like more than a simple word. The blond sharpshooter shifted her weight, mind working quickly.
"The Truth?" Hawkeye questioned, staring at Rio, awaiting an answer. Rio simply gave another charming smile and tapped his top hat, blue eyes watching her carefully. Liza had a very good idea that he was toying with her, something she definitely didn't appreciate. "What is the Truth?"
"To know the Truth, you have to see the Truth, missus." Cerulean eyes danced, while Rio stood up extending a hand to the still-seated Liza. She ignored it, getting up own her own. Tired of playing this game, she gave a frustrated sigh and began to head in the direction of what she assumed to be her motel. To her annoyance, Rio followed.
"Where is the Truth? How do I find it?" Asked Liza, finally breaking the silence as her curiosity getting the better of her. To the woman who'd known several alchemists over the years, 'Truth' sounded like some sort of alchemy thing. She could even remember Edward mentioning it once and a while, and that boy was always talking of the mystical science.
And their killer used alchemy. In her opinion, the man next to was giving her answers, no matter how perplexing they were. She stood there patiently as Rio answered, though it didn't do her much good. "The Truth is everyone you look, missus. To find it, you just have to pay attention. Right-o, missus? You got that, missus?"
"Of course I do." Replied the frustrated blond, who's normally calm temper was flaring up as she spoke with Rio Samuels. If that was his real name. "But it doesn't help me." At this moment she looked around, and noticed with a thankful sigh that she was on Peach Street, on which her and Roy's hotel was located.
"It helps you, or I wouldn't have told you, missus." Rio and Liza made down the street, coming to a stop in front of the motel. The man turned to his companion, yet another charming smile gracing his face, making the dirty and stubble covered thing rather pleasant to look at. "Good bye for now, missus."
"What-" Before Liza could continue her sentence, Rio was gone. She blinked. The woman knew people who could move fast, plenty of them. But the speed which the stranger-man had used to disappear was uncanny, and this frightened the sharpshooter.
"Liza?" A tired looking Mustang stuck his head out out of the second-floor window, dark hair ruffled from sleep and onyx eyes bleary. Liza smiled softly despite her odd encounter with Rio, giving a nod of acknowledgment to Roy. It had been along time since she'd seen the professional Colonel look unkempt. The last time was during the Ishvarlan Rebellion, after they had 'won'. He'd drank himself unconscious from guilt.
"Crazy men and their guilt trips." She murmured, climbing the uneven steps of the hotel. She had decided to push her encounter with the mysterious Rio Samuels to brew until later. So that was how, as she entered their room, the only thing on her mind was a good ol' bath in the large, claw-footed tub that had sat there so long the feet had left permanent imprints on the floor.
"Find anything?" Questioned Mustang, rubbing one of his eyes in a tired motion. The last part of his sentence was caught up in a yawn. The man looked like he needed a lot more sleep. Upon advising this to him, he only snorted and mumbled something about secretive woman.
"I'm going to take a bath then catch some sleep. Don't peek." Liza felt rather immature, telling her commanding officer to not spy on her while she was naked, but of course the woman couldn't help but to be a tad paranoid.
Although she had a hinting suspicion that Roy Mustang wouldn't just peek on females, if you get her drift...
X.O.X.O.X
He slipped down a small side street, that was a slimy muck of an alleyway more than anything else. His eyes surveyed the buildings on either side, before going back to the mouth of the alleyway. In three minutes, his prey would walk bye.
He had been following both of them at once, but depressingly, the day he'd killed the first one was the only day the other had stayed late at the stripper place. It was so troublesome when his victims didn't cooperate. It made him mad. Made enough to kill.
Ohoho, the pretty little thing was going to regret making him angry. He would make sure her death was very painful. It would teach the little slut to mess with his schedule. Couldn't the world just work with him, after all? The only thing he wanted was to kill off those miserable bitches.
The sound of heels clacking on cobblestones brought his mind back to the current situation. An evil grin spread on his face, teeth glinting in the poor light. His prey was right on time, walking home just as the sun began to set.
The alchemist crept to the opening of the alley, eyes resting on the swaying figure that was making her sloppy way home. His nose crinkled in disgust. She was drunk. And knowing how these sluts were, on some type of pleasure drug.
As she passed by, too inebriated to notice him, one of his strong arms snaked out, quick as a flash, and snagged her. A loud cry of protest came from her mouth, and he silenced her with one hand over her lips. She made muffled noises, but he ignored them, bringing her deeper into the shadows of the alley.
If one were to look at his hands, they'd see the intricate alchemy array that begin at his wrist and made it's winding way over his entire hand, ending at the tips of his fingers. So many were the runes, lines and other parts of the transmutation circle that it covered much of his skin.
The odd part was how the circle hand been put on his hand. Instead of a tattoo, like most alchemists leaned towards when applying it, his were scars. Old, white scars, made from repeatedly slicing his flesh with a blade. All for the sole purpose of murdering the strippers.
She was doing her best to fight him off, but her intoxication level was too high to get any kind of muscular coordination and strength. He watched her pretty little face. Ooh. She was crying. How pathetic. As his scars lit up with the bright shine of alchemy, he sneered into the tear-streaked face in front of him.
As her screams began to cry out, barely audible thanks to the fist shoved into her mouth, he only continued to sneer in hatred. Blood began to poor from her eyes, which had rolled backwards into her head. The red substance came out of her ears, nostrils, and even more from her eyes. It delighted him to see it run down her once pretty face.
Her skin began to bubble, like hideous sores, twisting her body beyond recognition. Then, one by one, they began to implode, and more blood coursed down her body. She had finished screaming, and moving in general, noted the man.
He let her drop, taking a moment to relax. Then he picked up the crimson-soaked corpse, throwing it over his shoulder with practiced ease. As he took off into the darkness, he said his first words the entire killing. "That was too easy..."
X.O.X.O.X
Whaddya think? Ooh...yah...I LOVE WRITING RIO! Next chapter: more Rio, double pole-dancing and much more! Also, I'll be getting off my lazy ass and actually writing the next update for TPAAPK, and Milestones. Not Genders Are So Troublesome, sadly. I have the entire thing typed up in a place I can't reach, and I really liked the chapter which I can't recreate.