Brief
Commentary:
I love writing terror-filled chapters. They're so fun and...terror-filled. :) My damn left arm still hurts (apparently my father thinks that it's been sprained), but I'm gritting my teeth, stroking my kitties, and getting this chapter written. Because I'm such a kind person...and the antagonist needs to be introduced. He's been absent from the last seven chapters (including the prologue), so I think the poor chap deserves an appearance, don't you? -pats antagonist's back-
Antagonist: -sniffle- -kills someone-
Ew...
Side Note: I hope some parts of the chapter don't suck ass, because some I added in there last minute without really considering how it flowed with the rest of the text...XD Sorry.
Reasons
Not For Your Ears
Chapter Eight
Obediently, Winry froze, her breathing harsh from fear and the heavy body on top of her. Something warm was beginning to pool on the ground next to her hand, but in the dim light, she couldn't make out what it was. Her face paled as she realized it was most likely blood...but it wasn't hers. So who...? Fearfully, she turned her head slightly to look up, and was met with the sight of the top of Edward's head, which, as she lowered her gaze, lead to his face; sweaty, angry, urgent, and the visible wince of pain. He...he was...
Winry let out another muffled shriek, struggling to get out from under his body, but his other hand came up and clamped around her throat, cutting the noise short. Eyes wide and frantic with terror, she emitted little choking sounds as the pressure on her wind pipe increased.
"I said...not to move, didn't I?" Edward snarled in her ear, his panting as evident as the smell of tobacco in his breath; he had lost his cigarette in the process of knocking her down. "You shouldn't be screaming...either."
Another round of gunshots echoed in the air, several coming particularly close to Edward's head, as he pressed her further towards the ground, ignoring her choking and muffled sounds of protest. Winry could hear him grit his teeth as another bullet entered his flesh - what the hell was he doing? Trying to get himself killed? Her pupils had contracted so much that you could hardly see them inside their respective irises, and she felt an oncoming wave of terror begin to envelope her. The puddle of blood on the ground had only grown larger, as it began to soak into her clothes and dry on her hands.
After several long seconds of silence, Edward stood slowly, bringing Winry up with him, hand still clamped over her mouth.
"Goddammit," she heard him whisper, as he narrowed his eyes and glared icily at the shadows ahead of them. Pulling out a handgun that Winry had not seen before (this brought on another wave of panic as she squirmed to get away, but his grip was firm), Edward flicked off the safety catch and fired several times. There was an audible sound of movement and the smothered din of running feet, Edward not missing a second and firing several more shots in the sound's direction. There was a hiss of pain as a bullet met the other's flesh, Winry stilling in horror as the figure stepped into the street light.
He was a, muscular, rather well-clothed, dark-skinned man with white and gray hair, although he was not old, with a large x-shaped scar marking his forehead. Oddly, he had crimson-red eyes that flashed at them with nothing but a strong hatred, as he held his freely bleeding left shoulder. With a growl, the man brought out his gun again with his other arm and fired once more, Edward shoving her to the ground as he returned rapid fire in return.
He winced as several more bullets grazed his skin, drawing blood, but he chose to ignore the pain and kept firing until he was out of rounds. It seemed the other man was out as well, and, after a few moments of consideration, turned, glared at them, and fled. Edward angrily shoved the handgun back into a pocket in his jeans, then whipped around to glare at her.
Hoisting her up by the collar of her bloodied uniform, Edward snarled,
"What the hell did you do?!"
Winry stared at him like a terrified deer caught in the middle of an old dirt road, stammering out a,
"Y-you're sh-shot!"
"You think I don't know that?! What the hell did you do?!"
"I didn't do anything!" she began to sob, struggling with weakening arms to pry his hand from her shirt. "I didn't-"
"Shut up! You obviously did do something if you have Scar trying to kill you, you lying bitch!" his breath came in short puffs as he ground his teeth together, obviously wanting to light another cigarette to calm his nerves. She was unable to address this, however.
"S-Scar? I've n-never seen him before!" Winry choked out, tears beginning to run down her face. Hadn't he just been saving her life a moment earlier? Why was he striking out at her, as if it were her fault? "I s-swear! P-please!"
Edward glowered at her disbelievingly, but finally dropped her ungraciously to the hard cement ground; Winry shuddered as she realized it had been right into the mass of his blood.
"Don't make me save you again," his voice dropped to a low growl as he stared angrily down at her, a hand now clamping to a bullet wound in his upper arm; the source of all his lost blood. Winry let out a pitiful squeak of fright as she stared up at him, eyes still wide with fear and uncertainty as her tears ran down her cheeks in salty rivets.
"Get lost," he told her fiercely, before he turned and disappeared into a nearby alley.
After several minutes of remaining in a puddle of Edward Elric's blood, the blonde-haired girl stood shakily, scouting the scenery in hopes she wouldn't see the man, 'Scar,' as Edward had called him, again. But he was out of bullets, she tried to reason with herself, and he had been wounded; he wouldn't be reappearing again so suddenly. None-the-less, her body's adrenaline was pumped from her terror, and skittishly, Winry tore off in the direction of her apartment, holding back loud sobs. Clambering up the stairs, she threw open the door and cried,
"Baa-chan!"
"Winry? I thought I said I wanted you home earl-" as her grandmother came into view, she was cut off by Winry's bloody appearance, her pipe falling unceremoniously from her lips. "...my God! Winry, what the hell happened?"
"Baa-chan!" was all Winry could say in response, running forward and flinging her arms around Pinako, crouching on her knees to do so, as she began to wail like a small child. And for once, Pinako did not rebuke her or shrug her off, instead beginning to stroke her blood-drenched hair and muttering small meaningless sayings.
Eventually, Winry had calmed down enough to explain to her grandmother that it was not, in fact, her blood that she was soaked in, but refused to say anything more. Instead, she begged to take a shower, Pinako reluctantly agreeing, although she was not pleased that Winry would not explain what had happened. The young teenager had obviously been terrified by whatever incident had occurred, and coming home covered in some one else's blood could never mean good for one's mental health. Muttering a low, "Damn it, Winry," Pinako let out a sigh and went to get a mop to clean up the blood on the floor.
The next morning, although Winry had gotten rid of the bloody uniform, and was dressed and ready to go in a cleaner one, she was extremely reluctant to go outside, even in broad daylight. God knew, Scar could still be lurking out there, ready to try and kill her again. And she couldn't rely on Edward to show up every time she was in danger and take a few bullets for her; she couldn't ask that of anyone, really. But Pinako managed to shoo her out the door, and urged her just to take her bike today; that way she could travel to and from school more quickly with less of a chance of it becoming dark outside before hand.
Eventually, Winry mounted the bicycle, and after a few minutes of uncertainty, pushed off in the direction of the school. Maybe a talk with Paninya would allow her to forget the previous day.
Her locker had been fixed, much to her surprise, as she approached it, the dial unglued and the writing gone. The combination remained the same, Winry found, but wondered if it would be safer to have it changed. She felt a few loathsome glares land on her back, and couldn't suppress a shiver; but at least the Alphonse Fan Girls Club was less of a threat than Scar...all they were in danger of killing was her social life. A few minutes later, Alphonse himself came up beside her and began to enter his combination, smiling over at Winry as it swung open. The smile disappeared, however, as he caught view of her sullen face.
"Winry? What's wrong?" he asked her quietly, touching her shoulder tentatively.
"Er, nothing," Winry quickly assured him, attempting to plaster a grin to her face; it didn't work. It never did. At least, with Alphonse.
"Winry, please, I know you're lying."
"...yeah."
"Can you just tell me what's upsetting you? I might be able to help."
"If I say it, you'll get angry with me," she muttered. She knew well enough by now that saying Edward Elric's name within twenty feet of Alphonse earned you a dark look and an icy glare.
He glanced at her in confusion.
"Why?"
"You just...will."
Alphonse sighed.
"I promise I won't, Winry. Really."
Some how this wasn't very reassuring, but she sighed and mumbled,
"It involves Edward."
Immediately Alphonse's bright face became more shadowed with irritation and blatant hate; Winry was completely expecting it and let out a sigh.
"I told you you would get mad."
"What did he do, Winry?" Alphonse said, his voice soft, but his eyes flickering with obvious ill-intentions towards his older sibling. "Did he do something to you?"
"...kind of. Look, Al, I'll talk to you about it later, this really isn't a good time," Winry said, her voice wary as she observed the contortion on Alphonse's face at the words 'kind of.'
"Fine," he agreed quietly, and turned to pull a few things out of his locker before he closed it and walked away.
With another sigh, Winry silently retrieved her own books and did the same, her senses sub-consciously alert for any sign of a threat; the din of Scar's shoes, the glint of a gun's shaft, the smell of blood and gun powder; anything. She was like a frightened cat, still scared, still defensive, and prepared to flee. Winry ignored the clench in her stomach as she passed another darker-skinned boy, but focused on his inky black hair, and assured herself that this boy was not Scar.
Walking as calmly as possible into the classroom, she was surprised to find that Paninya was not yet at her desk; usually her friend arrived here early so that they could talk longer, but not today. Slightly curious, Winry sat down at her own desk, eyes focusing on the door. One-by-one, her classmates trickled in, all taking their usual seats, but Paninya was not among them. What...?
Winry's fear suddenly spiked. Paninya had been with her the evening she had encountered Scar.What if she had been shot and killed? Panic flooded her veins, Winry forcing herself to keep her mouth closed to avoid screaming out.
Mustang-sensei strolled to the front of the room, and opened his mouth to announce,
"Aetern-san will be absent today on account of...family issues."
His black eyes narrowed at the end of his sentence, where he cleared his throat and proceeded to take roll. Winry let out a barely suppressed sigh of relief; Paninya wasn't dead, she was completely alive...but what was this about...family issues? If Mustang-sensei knew, she would ask him after class.
"Rockbell-san."
"Here," she offered, before placing her head in her hand and zoning out as he finished the roll-count and began the lesson.
Afterwards, when everyone else had flooded out of the classroom after the bell had rung, Winry approached him and asked quietly,
"Mustang-sensei?"
"Rockbell-san," he greeted her formally. "I hope nothing else of yours has been defaced or gone awry?"
"Uh, no. I was wondering if you knew what family issues Paninya was having."
"Ah, Aetern-san. Well," Mustang-sensei sighed, then looked up at her, face dead-panned.
"Aetern-san's father was murdered last night."
Damn it, I don't think it was terror-filled enough. :( Maybe another time. Please review and tell me if it was terror-filled enough. XD Lawlz. Oh, and Paninya's last name 'Aetern,' was something I totally made up; it's based off of the title of the classical piece 'Lux Aeterna,' which means 'Eternal Light.' Very great song. :) Try youtubing (or Esnipsing) "Requiem For a Dream (Remix) - Clint Mansell" if you're interested in listening; I was listening to it the whole time I wrote this chapter. It's quite powerful. -rambles-
