Braiding the Noose with Indian Rope
Disclaimer: Yeah, uh… No, no, no, I'm sorry to say that I don't own anything FMA.
FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THIS FAR, BUT STILL HAVEN'T GOTTEN IT YET: Rated for the three M's: Murder, Mutilation, and general Mayhem…. And one L: Language.
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Chapter 6: Of Confusion and Illusion
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November 23, 1919-- 10:34 PM, Trenpin Street
Bright yellow headlights ripped apart the twilight as a sleek black car tore through the night, bouncing over the potholes of the broken road and throwing its occupants into the air with each dip in the pavement.
They were silent as they sat together, preparing for the upcoming task. Six pairs of assorted eyes- each conveying a look of concern and anxiety- stared out of the car's window, every bump of the car jarring their vision, making it even harder to see through the darkness.
Navy eyes glanced in the rearview mirror as the automobile passed under the streetlamps, throwing rays of light onto the faces of the passengers. Roy surveyed each person's expression furtively, and then quickly glanced back to the road to swerve away from the onslaught of never-ending holes littering the street.
As he looked in the mirror he caught a glimpse of determination and resolve flicker across the familiar faces in the backseat from the fleeting light of the lamps outside. He was glad he picked this unit.
Mustang looked at the men in the rearview mirror again, knowing full-well that these men would give their lives for him, and this may be the last time he saw them, if things went wrong in there... The raven-haired Fuhrer let his eyes drift over the grim faces of the men: Breda, Falman, Havoc, Furey…
Roy jumped slightly as he felt something brush against his leg. He quickly searched the darkness, then, spotting a hand, let his eyes traveled up the arm - between glancing toward the street - to the face of Riza Hawkeye. She allowed her palm to come to rest above his knee, and squeezed his leg lightly, silently telling him everything would work out. He allowed a small smirk to graze his lips, then turned toward the road to avoid any further holes in the road.
He was glad he picked this unit…
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November 23, 1919-- 10:45 PM, Trenpin Street
The car stopped in front of a dilapidated building that loomed ominously over the smaller, scragglier apartments dotted on the roads beside it.
The unit sat in the vehicle, nervously glancing at each other, waiting. They opened the vehicle doors and piled out, choosing instead to pace the street instead of being stuck in the cramped confines of the car.
"Where are we?" Havoc asked quietly, craning his neck to look at the building, the roof of which had all but melted into the darkness.
"It's the Trenpin Hospital. It was closed under King Bradley's lead due to safety issues. They must have blown all the money on the war so they didn't have enough to complete this piece of shit. It looks like the building's about to collapse…" Roy explained, shaking his head at the previous Fuhrer's incompetence.
"Oh, great, so we're just gonna wander in there when the floors are about to collapse if we so much as put a pinky toe on them?!" Breda whined worriedly, patting his belly.
"If Fullmetal's in there, then yes," Roy stated simply.
"Wonderful," Breda said sarcastically. "That kid better be in there or I'll kill him myself," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.
The group whipped around as they heard the screeching of wheels on the unpaved dirt roads. Dust was thrown from the tires to spread around the area in front of the building, making the occupants cough and wheeze, their eyes watering from the debris.
The passenger door swung open, revealing a man in a thick, bright red coat. "That is the last time I drive with you! I can't believe how reckless you are! And you're a cop! The head cop, no less!! Well, I won't stand for that. I'm going to report you to the Bureau, that'll teach you. They'll have your badge in a second!" The short man squaked in indignation, shoving his wire-rimmed glasses back onto their rightful perch on his nose. He looked around and spotted the group, then stifened, his eyes widening in fear.
The confused unit heard a chuckle come from the driver seat.
"Oh, come on, that's what you always say. Besides, we had to get here fast anyway, so I don't see the problem," the man in the car replied, stepping out of the vehicle into the frigid night. He ran a hand through his untamed black hair, saw his terrified partner, followed his gaze, and then froze. "Oh…" He said hesitantly.
"This isn't the time to be joking around," Mustang declared in an agitated voice, pulling his gloves on threateningly.
"Oh my, Mr. Fuhrer, Sir, we were… Sorry for the delay, we couldn't seem to find a car… We were running late… P-Please excuse my college; he can be a bit of an ass. We didn't expect to see you here…. Why are you… here…? Um, shall we get started?" The squat man squeaked after finding his voice, peering questioningly at the Fuhrer.
"I'm here because I made a promise," Roy said, effectively closing the questioning with a sharp glare at the smaller man.
The taller man dipped into a respectful bow, "I'm sorry Sir, we were running late, and what my college is trying to say is that we couldn't find a car, so we had to come as fast as possible when we got our hands on one…"
"Boys, this is Chief Dan Wilcore and Jim Harringston of the Central Police Force," Roy spat out through his clenched teeth, trying to keep his temper in check.
The raven-haired Fuhrer turned to the Chief, "And this is Havoc, Falman, Breda, Hawkeye, and Furey," he explained curtly, pointing to each one in turn. "Now that that's out of the way, can we please quit fucking around and get on with it? Fullmetal's counting on us." He said, rubbing his temples.
The two officers watched in awe as the six people in front of them pulled out their various weapons, each person carrying their own personal arsenal, all of which they had somehow managed to conceal in the folds of their clothing.
Dan gave a low whistle, "looks like we came a bit under prepared."
Mustang shot him a fierce scowl. "Come on, let's move," he ordered, and began striding confidently towards the dark building. The others following in his wake, guns drawn and ready.
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November 23, 1919-- Trenpin Street
The gentle rattling of chains and a cold breeze running across his skin was what woke him. He let out a small sigh as his yellow eyes cracked open; tiredly searching for anything to help him recall what was going on. I don' even remember fallin' 'sleep… He though groggily, still battling against the weight of his heavy eyelids. Can't afford… go to sleep again…. Not 'till I know… where I am….
His eyes wandered down to his feet… I'm standing? He thought, confused. When did this happen? I guess tha's why there's that ache in my arm. Feels like it's been 'sleep for hours… Like pins and needles are running through it… Wait, pins and… needles…?
He gasped, his eyes snapping open as his head whipped around the room, looking for the mad man and trying to cope with the sudden onslaught of vertigo. Now I remember, the needle- that bastard!! I hate needles!He thought furiously as he desperately tried to focus his eyes against his clouded senses, which were still struggling to slip away.
The blond man paused for a moment when he spotted two tired, but angry eyes staring back at him in the dim lighting. He frowned then squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look at the man on the other side of the room. No, it's not that psycho… This new guy has different colored eyes… they look… gold…? And his hair is yellow too…. But no, it's not me…. It can't be me, 'cause he doesn't have a shirt… And I do…. He thought disjointedly, and then laughed giddily at the absurdity of his and the other man's striking resemblance. See, I can prove it… He glared smugly at the other man, who only smirked mockingly back. Edward looked down, only to discover that nothing was covering his chest…
Where did my shirt go? He glanced back at the man across from him, who was wearing an identical look of confusion and exhaustion. Bu' I remembered putting on that black military thing the morning Winry and Paninya ha' come to Central… How long ago was that anyway? But it's so cold… Why wouldn't I be wearin' my shirt…?
A light flicked on, chasing away the darkness and his barely coherent thoughts with it. The tawny-haired man closed his eyes tightly against the sudden brightness, his chest heaving as he tried to control the searing pain that was assaulting his eyes.
"Ah! My little angel is finally awake! And here I thought you'd sleep through the festivities… But we can't have that. You need to stay awake! They'll at least want to see that you're alive," a scratchy voice crowed as the dark figure appeared by the light switch.
Ed shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts, but the drugs were still making him light-headed and dizzy. The blond cracked open his eyes to catch a glimpse of the man. His eyes widened in surprised when he saw not only the one identical doppelganger looking at him from across the room, but a hundred more pairs of his startled yellow eyes staring back at him.
"Mirrors…"
"Oh! What a very clever deduction of you! And here I was beginning to think you were stupid," the man exclaimed as he waltzed up to Edward.
Ed watched as the shadowed man was multiplied when he stepped in view of the mirrors.
"Is th's how you were getting around those alleyways so fas'?" Ed asked suspiciously, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, slurring the words slightly.
"Ah, very good," the man said, pleasure evident in his tone. He tweaked the chains securing Ed's waist to the wall, making the boy arch off of the frigid stone.
"Are you cold, my dear? You have goose pimples all over your skin," the masked man conceded, almost to himself, as Ed suppressed a shiver. "And you still look a little out of it. Hmm… Have the drugs not worn off yet?"
Ed glowered at the man, then turned his attention back to the mirrors. "I don't understand… How di' you get from on top of the building to th' ground, though? Even if you did have mirrors…"
Ed looked down at the shadowed man, watching as he adjusted the chains securing the yellow-haired man to the wall. "Mmm. If you have more than one mirror and you adjust it to just the right angle, it can appear that you are anywhere," the man said in an offhand manner, then he chuckled and looked back at the boy, "oh, dear… I just gave away a secret, didn't I? There's just something about you that makes me want to reveal all that I know… About my craft… My past… I remember, you were in my past once…" The man stopped tightening the chains and raised himself off the ground, allowing his dark eye to peer intensely into Edward's.
"What? Is that why you chose me? Is that why you're doin' this? What have I ever done to yo-"
A vicious snarl erupted from between the man's teeth as two firm hands were wrapped tightly around the blond's throat; cutting off the words he was about to speak. The cloaked man opened his mouth to speak, but quickly turned as the two occupants in the room heard the screech of the door opening.
Edward choked and gasped for breath as the man's ghostly pale hands were removed. The honey-haired man watched in disbelief as the man before him- almost foaming at the mouth before- became suddenly calm.
"Well, it looks like the show is starting," the man said in an almost business-like detachment. The pale figure reached into his coat and gently pulled out a long, sharp sword and touched it to Edward's side. Ed shied away from the contact of the cold steel on flesh, but couldn't escape the edge of the blade for the heavy chains tying him to the wall.
Edward looked at the man desperately, willing this encounter with a knife to be just another one of the crazed lunatic's games. As he watched the man, Edward saw his dark eyes transfixed on the progress of the sharp tip and Ed cringed as a small smile formed at the corner of the man's mouth that was still visible through the mask.
The alchemist let out a yelp of surprise as the blade embedded into his skin, making a warm stream of blood trickle down his abdomen.
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November 23, 1919-- 10:59 PM, Trenpin Street
The only sound that could be heard was the steady thud of boots on pavement as the small group made their way across the dark, shabby parking lot. They didn't even whisper to one another, for fear of giving their position away.
The raven-haired man leading the group paused in the middle of the lot, holding up a hand, and causing the others behind him to stop. They waited in tense silence for the order to keep moving, but it never came. Instead they heard a faint noise coming from the building.
…click…click…click…
The rescue party exchanged questioning glances. They looked back at the previously quiet building with an edgy anticipation.
Each person cried out in surprise and shielded their eyes, as the inky blackness surrounding the building was suddenly shredded apart. Mustang squinted against the blinding rays to see that all of the lights in the building had abruptly turned on.
"He must have known we were coming! Just get to the doors quickly, don't worry about being stealthy anymore!" Roy announced to his reeling company. The team ran to the large, rusting doors, each hoping that the element of surprise was still in their favor.
"Havoc, you and I will push the doors open, the rest of you stay back and guard us," Mustang ordered, motioning for Jean to come closer.
The two men each braced themselves against one of the two heavy doors and began to force them open as they put all of their weight behind each shove. Their efforts were rewarded with an ear-splitting screech as the doors grated across the ground.
"Well, if he didn't already know we were here, he definitely knows now," Breda said, then frowned as the group shushed him. They all listened for any movement, heard a sharp yelp echoing from inside, and then darted into the building, a new haste in their steps for concern for their captured companion.
Mustang heard Riza gasp as they entered the hospital. He paused in the doorway to get his bearings, his gloves poised for snapping, then his eyes widened as hundreds of panicked golden eyes- glinting in the light like sparkling gems- stared at them from around the room.
"The guys' got a knife on him," Havoc growled, and Mustang tore his gaze from the confused yellow irises to see a dagger already embedded in the young man's midsection. The cigarette wielding man raised his gun to fire at one of the images, but stopped as Furey grabbed his arm.
"No! Don't shoot!" He shouted, "You could hit Edward. There's also the ricochet to worry about, if you shoot these mirrors, the bullets will just bounce off, then we'll be in trouble," Furey stated matter-of-factly, as the stout man, Harringston, chirped out a praise for the black haired man's quick thinking.
"So we're just supposed to wander through this place 'till we stumble onto him?" Dan asked in desperation. "There's got to be another way!"
"There's no time, we have to get moving," Mustang replied as Edward let out another low growl, the only sound he made to give away his pain. The unit then began advancing towards each individual image, trying to extract the real Edward from the illusions surrounding them.
"Ah, shit! Why did I get pulled into this? I always hated those fun houses when I was a kid!" The dark haired Fuhrer heard Breda murmur from behind him.
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November 23, 1919-- 11:27 PM, Trenpin Street
They continued on, each person trying to ignore the Mad Magicians manic cackles. Each person spreading their arms in front of them- all of them feeling like blind men, grasping for something just out of reach- only to touch the solid barrier of glass preventing them from saving their, still writhing in pain, comrade.
Alchemic gloves ran across the glass, still searching for a break in the terrible images of the tortured blond boy. He nearly tripped as he put some weight on his hands, only to be met with empty air. He motioned with his arms, as if he were treading water, to search for the wall again. He spread his hands apart and was met on both sides by a separate mirror.
There's no wall for this one, and that's definitely a passage that's here. He looked ahead of him at the masked man and the chained boy. And it just looks too real to be another illusion. This has to be it! He thought as he narrowed his eyes and a small, predatory smirk found it's way onto his face.
He stalked up to the pair silently, raising his gloves and getting ready to snap for when he was near enough to only hit the man and not Edward. He was almost to the lunatic, when the wraith of a man turned on his heel to dance around the semi-conscious Edward and spotted Mustang.
The Mad Magician paused in mid-step. The crazed smile froze on his lips and his eye widening in growing panic at the closing gap between himself and the Fuhrer. But it only took a fleeting moment for the man to compose himself.
The Mad Magician pulled off his cloak so quickly that Mustang only saw a flash of black before it was already wrapped around the maniac and Ed.
"This will have to continue some other time, besides, my little assistant looks ready to pass out. I guess we will have to say goodbye for now, your Excellency," the phantom man exclaimed in a mocking tone, giving a quick salute, and then pulling the fabric, so it completely covered them both.
"Fullmetal!" Mustang shouted, running to the spot that the two people had just occupied, but they had already disappeared. He dropped to his knees on the floor and began pounding at the hard wood floor, searching for a trap door, or anything that could have concealed them.
"…Sir?" A tentative question came, as a gentle hand was placed on Roy's shoulder.
"He's gone," the dark haired man said, looking up into Riza's red eyes.
"I know sir. I saw," she said sadly, then frowned, bemused.
Roy followed her gaze and saw a large bouquet resting on the ground a few feet away from where they were.
"…What is that?" Roy questioned as Wilcore came to join them.
"Flowers?" Asked Furey, following close behind.
"Where'd you get those?" Havoc asked as he too joined the gathering.
"That 'Mad Magician's' been leaving 'em with all of the victim's that he's killed," Wilcore stated, his tone foreboding.
"Why didn't you tell us this before? We could have found out a little more about this guy from the start," Mustang said calmly, while casting a stern look at Wilcore.
"Anyway, do we have anyone who could figure something out about these quickly?" Roy asked, rubbing his temples in frustration.
"Perhaps Sheska?" Hawkeye supplied.
"Right, Falman, go take these to Sheska and see if the two of you can find any information about these," Roy handed the blood-speckled bouquet into Falman's waiting palms, "then report back to me with your findings," Mustang continued.
Falman turned to find his way back to the car, leaving the unit to stumble out of the maze after him.
Hawkeye paused in the middle of their trek and grabbed Mustang's hand on his way passed her. "But why did he leave them with Fullmetal? Edward was still alive…" She asked quietly, already knowing, but dreading the answer.
"Well, if the kid isn't dead yet, he will be soon," Harringston said, then squawking in pain from a sharp slap to the back of the head from the Chief.
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I really don't have any excuses as to why this chapter has taken so long… I've had PLEANTY of days to work on it! The only explanation I have is that my Muse ran away on me, so I did the only thing I could think of! I chased him down (which took a couple of days) and taped him to my desk, so he should stay stuck there for the rest of the story (I hope…). Then, of course, when I got my Muse back, real life got in the way!! : ( Sorry everyone, for making you wait such a long time! I'm disgusted with myself!! (goes to cry in a corner)
The next chapter may take a little while too, because the school years almost over and for some reason the teachers feel that we students shouldn't be allowed free time, so they've decided, instead, to pile homework on us… What I'm trying to say is that I just can't concentrate on this right now (Now, not only do I have my Muse taped to a desk so he won't run… I have to trap my Creativity in a bottle, so it won't disappear too!! (sob sob))…
Sorry for those of you that actually read the story!! Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews!! I love you all!! (You do know that hearing from you is keeping me sane, right? Or… Allowing me to at least keep what's left of my sanity, anyway! (Which was almost non-existent to begin with) tee hee… double parenthesis! YAY!!)
Oh, and yeah, yeah, Roy doesn't normally drive, but, being a Fuhrer now, he'd have to learn (just in case some crazy person shoots his driver and he has to get away… Or, that's the excuse I'm giving you!! He he… : )
Please review… If you don't, well, I may just have to sick my Mad Magician on you!MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! )8D But really, no pressure… (cough cough) O.o