Braiding the Noose with Indian Rope
Braiding the Noose with Indian Rope
Disclaimer: I love FMA, but sadly, I don't own it, but that's okay cause it would suck if I already knew what happens… and I would if I… had made it… but I didn't… so… yeah… thanks Hiromu Arakawa for making such an excellent series!
BEWARE: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS!! (You have been warned…)
JUST A REMINDER: Rated for the three M's: Murder, Mutilation, and general Mayhem…. And one L: Language.
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Chapter 3: Of Mysteries and Catastrophe
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November 22, 1919-- 2:31 AM, Velition Street
The cold winter air snatched at the man's hair, making the golden locks dance restlessly in the darkness. The chill from the wind seeped into his long overcoat, sending a tremor down his spine. As he passed the decrepit buildings of Central's low-income neighborhoods, he spotted the bright lights of the crime scene up ahead of him, cutting through the twilight.
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November 22, 1919-- 2:33 AM, Velition Street
Chief Dan Wilcore liked to think himself as composed and resourceful. He could deal with some of the most extreme cases without even breaking a sweat. But this… this was something he couldn't cope with. But if there was any chance of saving another person, he sure as hell was gonna try.
Another murder… Just another murder, or at least that's what one of the officers had said (Dan guessed he hadn't been the one to find the body). The young captain was expecting blood, and, as the other murders suggested a lot of the victim's insides coming… out, but what he wasn't expecting was the victim's entire body to be so completely, absolutely…desecrated.
"Hey chief! Here's the guy now," his partner, Tommy Angsley called, waving his wrinkled hands in the air, frantically trying to get his partners attention while still trying, in vain, to keep the wind from grabbing his sparse hair.
Dan frowned. About time, he though, irritated. He had been disappointed with the Fuhrer's choice of "agents", what were they're names… oh, right, York and Davis. The two idiots had just strutted around the body, spewing crap the police already knew.
Dan exhaled in frustration; he was expecting the military alchemists to be a bit more… competent. The curly haired man leaned against the wall, cursed, then jumped away, thinking it was best not to get the blood from the walls on his coat. He hoped this new kid was better than those other bastards sent earlier.
Dan looked up as he heard the uneven footsteps of the newcomer echoing on the frosty pavement. His emerald eyes peered through the darkness, only to be greeted by glowing eyes of gold, which were reflected from the street lamps. He blinked in surprise. Fullmetal?!
So, maybe the Fuhrer did know what he was doing. With the Fullmetal Alchemist working the case Dan could go home. He'd be able to sleep through the night without being called out of his warm bed to run through the artic streets after some psychotic maniac.
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November 22, 1919-- 2:45 AM, Velition Street
The first thing Edward noticed was the reeking, rotting smell that encased the scene, the second thing he noticed was red. His eyes widened in shock as he looked at the thick red coat of blood slung over the alley walls. Then Ed saw a tall (maybe an inch or two above himself… at the very most) man, with a dense tangle of jet-black hair, which he assumed to be Chief Wilcore, standing amongst the pools of crimson. The blond man noticed that the Chief's shoes were turning from a crisp, shiny black, to a dull, rusted brown from trudging through the puddles of gore.
The man stalked over to Edward, his boots making a sickening squelching sound as he went, splattering the grisly liquid across the asphalt.
"I'm glad you're here Full Metal! I thought you weren't gonna show," Ed's eyes jerked away from the ground and focused on the Chief.
"Yeah, sorry it took so long Chief, I had a hard time getting up, then I kinda… got lost," Ed admitted sheepishly, then told the man, " It's freezing out here. I'm amazed you guys aren't Popsicles(1) yet."
The dark-haired man snorted, and clapped Ed on the shoulder. He noticed the shorter man's wince and asked, concerned, "What's wrong? You all right?"
"Yeah… I just… My friends came into town and we were celebrating. I guess I went a little overboard…" The blond man chuckled tiredly.
Dan smiled kindly. "It's probably good that you had something to drink before you came… You might need it, but… how did you get here anyway?" The hulking man's questioning suddenly becoming stern, and he used his height to tower over the smaller man threateningly.
Ed's golden eyes opened from the tired slits they were resting in and he waved his palms in front of himself in panic. "No! Don't worry! We started at seven and I already slept most of it off! I just drove here and parked a couple of blocks away… I thought the cold would help me wake up," Ed explained quickly, trying to soothe the officer of any doubts.
Dan narrowed his eyes and looked Ed up and down as his mouth formed into a hard line. He rolled his eyes, thinking better than to get into this now and waved his hand in impatience, beckoning the alchemist to come with him. "The body is this way… or what's left of it," the headman announced grimly. "You better be prepared. It's not a pretty sight."
They sloshed through the carnage to a corner of the alleyway. Ed could feel his stomach convulse as his eyes ran over the corpse. He noted that the woman, or he figured a woman judging by the face, may have been pretty, beautiful even, once, but now her allure was lost in the expanse of fluids.
His eyes trailed down her torso, watching the gradual process of blonde hair turning red as he went. His stare rested on the gap below her stomach where her legs should be. His aurous eyes continued across the red floor, noticing her intestines were spread across the ground… and everywhere else for that matter. Stray beams of moonlight spread across the ground making the slick organs, spilled from the victim's bowels, glisten and glitter, like some kind of demented wonderland.
He cringed when he spotted her lower half, modestly covered with a flower-printed skirt, splayed on the dirt. Her legs, splattered with gore, was sticking out at odd angles, obviously broken, his mind concluded. He shuddered, but the scientific part of his brain forced him to scrutinize the gruesome scene, looking for any hint to whom could have done this.
"I'll stay here until you're done… I don't really want to leave you when there's a killer out there," Wilcore told the blond quietly. The taller man looked down at the alchemist, noticed his eyes fixated on the severed limbs and said sadly, "I told you it wasn't a pretty sight."
"Yeah, and thanks," the golden-haired alchemist uttered to the officer, and allowed his eyes to dart back to the woman's head, still trying to see anything that could give a clue. His eyebrows knit together in disgust and he had to look away from her ashy, terror stricken face when he noticed that she had to be around Al's age.
His eyes strayed to her throat where he saw snowy white petals and emerald leaves resting against her waxen skin. "Why are there flowers? Did someone come by and see her or something?" Ed asked, confused.
"No, he's been leaving them with all the victim's he kills. There's not even a pattern to his murders, they're just girls, any girls. But at least we know it's the same guy for every killing…" Dan stated morosely.
Ed turned his luminous stare towards the rooftops, searching for a way in which the murderer could have ambushed the girl or escaped. His eyes scanned each building surrounding the vicinity, carefully looking for any trace of evidence. His gaze snagged abruptly when he saw something move. He peered closer and could make out a silhouetted figure in the blackness.
"Is there anyone else working tonight?" Edward questioned as he felt his heart start fluttering in his chest with anticipation.
"No, I don't think-"
A coat whipping his face and the sound of boots quickly exiting the alley interrupted the chief.
"Wha? Wait! Where are you going?!" He called after the blond, watching his broad back recede in the night.
"Tommy! We can't just let him go on his own! He's gonna get himself killed!" Dan called frantically to his subordinate, and they immediately gave chase.
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November 22, 1919-- 3:40 AM, Central City
I can't see anything… Ed thought with unease, as he scrambled up a fire escape, trying not to miss the thin rungs of the ladder in the darkness.
He had seen that person over here somewhere, it was right over the alley, but the shadow figure was nowhere to be seen. Then he saw it. It was just a flash of movement, caught in the shreds of moonlight through the overcast sky, but it was enough. He began the pursuit again, hoping this time to catch the man.
He leapt onto another roof and looked around trying to make out any forms in the slim lighting. He saw the movement again and grinned to himself. Caught ya… Ed thought, excited that the case would be over so soon. He wanted to sneak up on the man so he could easily overpower the deranged person. Ed melted into the shadows behind a big heater on the roof of the dilapidated building, his movements' fluid, practiced, silent.
His body tensed for the fight and he raised his metal fist to deliver a more powerful blow. Edward's lithe form quickly pivoted out of the inky cover, and he struck at the figure's thin form.
Sharp stinging pain lashed at his face and he quickly covered his head to protect himself.
He groped through the obscurity, shielding his skull with a metal hand, and swinging at the air with the other. But the assault was over. He brought his head out from the protective crook in his arm and looked around hurriedly, scouring the area for his unknown assailant.
He brought his hand to his face and felt a hot liquid seeping through the cotton of his glove. He raised his fingers to the light and saw red. Blood… But how… He checked the skin on his face again and found a few small gashes on his pale cheek.
The blond looked toward the place the figure had just inhabited and found a pile of broken resplendent shards reflecting in the sparse glow of the moon. He bent down and picked up one of the sharp points, turning it over in his palm. Glass…? He looked in the shining metal and saw an eye, a tawny eye staring back at him with the same perplexed expression. A mirror? What?
He straightened, still holding the reflecting piece between his metal fingers. He looked around himself again briefly and spotted a half concealed face below on the street. The figure fixed him with an unyielding, angry gaze.
"Hey! Don't move! I'm coming down!" Ed shouted in bewilderment, as thick pearly puffs of air vanished in the night.
Edward ran to the fire escape and jumped down the platforms to the floor. He turned onto the street only to find the man gone. His eyes frantically searched the area, trying to find the man in black again. He was rewarded with a fleeting view of a cloak disappearing down another alley. Ed dashed after the man with as much speed as he could muster in his almost frozen body.
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November 22, 1919-- 3:40 AM, Central City
Their gasping breaths could be heard throughout the street. "I can't… run anymore! We… have to… stop," Tommy Angsley panted, and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
"No, that kid… is still out there, he could be in trouble," Dan exclaimed, trying to push his exhausted partner into movement, but failing.
"He's been doing this…. Since he was… five or something… he'll be… fine," Angsley protested, wheezing now that he had started to catch his breath.
Their heads jerked up when they heard a crash overhead followed by a tinkling of glass on pavement.
"Oh, right, he'll be fine, just fine," Dan snarled angrily to the puffing officer.
"Alright fine! Let's… get moving again… then, but I'm gonna kill you if the kid… has caught that bastard," Tommy cried. He groaned as Wilcore began racing down the road again, and began shuffling after him, huffing with each step.
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November 22, 1919-- 4:20 AM, Central City
The smell attacked him. It slammed up his nose and destroyed his senses. His stomach churned and he emptied the contents of Winry's "get your own" dinner onto the freezing ground. He wiped his mouth on the back of his glove and breathed in shallow gulps of putrid air. He almost reached again, but controlled the impulse by breathing through his open mouth.
The blond man looked down into the darkness of the alley to see blood splattered across the floor, surrounding another gored body. He saw the man standing amongst the innards. The man's shoulders were rising and falling in a fast rhythm, and the panting boy at the mouth of the alley smirked; pleased to see the man was as disheveled as him.
He stalked toward the dark figure, determination in his eyes. He was going to end this now. His eyes narrowed when he saw the man advance towards him, so he's not giving up as easily as I thought. He continued on, preparing himself for the upcoming battle. The man seemed to have the same idea kept moving forward.
Edward decided instead to let the man come to him, so he fell into a defensive stance, raising his shoulders and arms to fight off the oncoming enemy.
The man did the same. Wha…?
Ed let his shoulders drop and the man mimicked his action. The blond raised his left hand and the doppelganger raised his right. Another mirror…?
Ed frowned and cautiously moved forward, watching as the shadowy figure did the same. When he arrived at the spot where the man was standing he slowly reached out with his mechanical hand and heard a small click as metal hit glass. He sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes, then looked up to see the figure repeating the same motion.
Edward looked down at the body lying on the ground and noticed a movement to his left. He sprang up and growled in frustration when the figure did the same. So another one, huh…? He thought, annoyed.
He turned back to the body, but caught a sudden movement that he hadn't made in the reflecting glass to his left. He jumped out of his crouching position, but stumbled as a sharp blow hit the back of his neck.
Ed lurched back up to fight again, but his vision began to blur and darken as he fought to stay conscious.
"I've been waiting such a long time to meet you, Edward," the blond heard the man chuckle cruelly. He tried to glance up at the man's face and saw a flash of white, before everything went black.
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(1)Popsicles(c) were accidentally invented in 1905 by 11-year-old Frank Epperson. It wasn't until 1923 that they really became popular, but you guys can play along… right…? (This was only in our world anyways! : )
YAY!! Thanks so much to the thesaurus! I would never have been able to come up with so many words for blood without you!! That was actually really hard and depressing to write… yuck… EW shivers with the heepy-jeebys… yeah, I'm a bit disturbed that that came out of my head… : (
And, I told you so about the warning! (and trust me, it'll get worse. HAHAHA!) La de da de da… I don't know if it should be teen anymore (What do you guys think?), but I'm definitely gonna change the Mystery/Humor now, cause the story's gonna change become a little more intense…
It would really cheer me up if you guys reviewed (and trust me after writing that, I really need something happy to remove the dark cloud over my head). So please, for the sake of my sanity…. REVIEW!!
See ya next time if you are still reading! (which I hope everyone will!!) Couldn't keep up with everyone reviewing, so I'm not doing that anymore… so sorry… : (