Hello! I've finally returned! I'm so sorry for taking forever to get this chapter posted. I've gotten a little busy. I would like to thank all of my readers for reading this fic and just being awesome. I really love the feedback and the comments make my day. I would like to thank my beta reader, Mix. They were a big help! I really do hope y'all will enjoy this chapter and feel free to leave a comment! Thanks!
Snow fell swiftly and quietly around the moonlit night, blanketing the earth. It was much too quiet for the young blond as he stared past the hole in the fence, brow furrowed and golden eyes filled with anguish.
Ed inhaled skaily, causing his exhale to mist in the falling snow. He shoved his numb fingers into his pockets. His gaze fell to his feet, eyes slipping shut as he tried to tell himself that the pain in his chest would disappear in time.
He quickly blinked away any remnants of tears; they'd do him no good. He'd done the right thing, it would take time to get used to being alone, but he'd get through like he always did, one day at a time.
You'll see him again; this isn't the last time, Ed reminded himself. He'd find the boy someday; maybe by then, Ryler will have forgiven him and understood the reasons. That was the most he could hope for because he couldn't live with feeling like his father.
Nope. No, no way in hell you're going to to start thinking about that bastard, Ed.
Ed nudged the thought away, pushing it into the deep recesses of his mind. Now was not the time to think about long-buried meaningless issues.
He turned his face up to the sky, distantly he heard the voices of the escapees on their way to freedom. The snow began to fall harder around him, causing the wind to pick up, buffeting his blond bangs around.
They need to hurry, he thought, slight panic coiling in his gut. It would be near impossible for anyone to see where they were going if they waited any longer. Ed shivered violently, wrapping his arms around him and hurried up to those still standing around it.
It seemed he wasn't the only person that felt that way as Jack and another man were trying to convince an older woman and young boy to leave. The older woman's face seemed to contort with fear at the thought of leaving, she glanced at Ed as he approached but kept her attention to the men in front of her.
"This is your only chance," Jack pleaded, a hint of desperation in his voice, "they'll kill you if you don't escape."
The older woman looked longingly through the fence, tightening her hold on the small boy who looked as if he didn't understand what was happening.
Hurry up; there's not much time left.
Ed looked behind him through the falling snow, no lights from the perimeter showed on them, he couldn't see through the inky darkness, and there was no way of knowing how close the soldiers were.
Panic coiled in his gut at the thought, and he quickened his pace to the group.
"You need to leave now," Ed ground out through gritted teeth, slightly startling the small group at his appearance. "There's no time, either you leave and survive, or you stay here and die. What's it going to be?" he snapped.
Tears filled the woman's eyes, and suddenly she burst into tears.
No, no, no! There wasn't time for this! She didn't have time to cry; Ed didn't realize he'd moved until he was nearly nose to nose with the older woman, grasping her arm firmly but not hard enough to bruise. He stepped through the hole, and the older woman followed, surprise coating her features.
"You have to go now! They will kill you; you're useless to them." Ed snapped, eyes blazing with a slight hint of panic. Yet the woman didn't move, and Ed felt desperation overtake his mind. It clawed at his heart, and it took all of him not to start screaming at the woman.
His breathing picked up, and he began to take in quick, panicked breaths that burned his lung from the freezing air. No, no, no, this couldn't happen now. He couldn't afford to spiral into a panic attack now; he had to get through this. He repeated it to himself, even as his chest grew tight and his heart began to pound in his chest.
"You have to go," He managed through gasped breaths, "Please," It was desperate, but he didn't care. He was sure his face held the panic that was tearing his insides apart piece by piece.
A brief pause, then the old woman nodded. She looked down at the small boy beside her and then nodded again, and Ed just about collapsed with relief. She walked as quickly as she could to the treeline, then turned and yelled, "Spasibo!"
But Ed had already turned, stumbling back through the hole, fisting his shirt as he tried to breathe. He was shaking, he realized. The woman was gone, but the panic wasn't leaving, only tightening its hold on his already overtaxed mind.
His vision tunneled, heart roaring in ears. He realized his breaths were coming way too fast, and he choked. His eyes widened, and he slumped onto his side in the fallen snow. The cold seeped into his bones, causing his trembling to worsen.
I can't breathe; I can't breathe.
The realization caused the vice gripping his chest to tighten its hold, leaving him gasping. Each breath grew shallower than the last, and he clawed and scratched at his chest, anything for the precious air.
His muscles spasmed, and the pain nearly caused him to choke. His lips parted, chest heaving for oxygen that wasn't coming. A shuddering gasp found its way through the seeming lack of oxygen.
I can't breathe, I can't breathe
Through the pounding of his heartbeat and sputtering gasps of agony, voices called out to him; they seemed muted like his ears were filled with water.
A sharp whimper escaped from him because, please, I don't want to die. I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I don't want to die.
The sensation of someone touching his shoulder managed to break through his panic. He flinched, fog clearing momentarily to focus on the two men in front of him. Their panicked expressions faded in and out through his wheezing and gasping.
"Ed, kid. Talk to me, what's going on?" A voice broke through the fog, and Ed latched onto it, anchoring himself into reality for the moment.
"I一" Ed sputtered, his mind drawing a blank. "Panic attack." The vice suddenly lifted just as quickly as it appeared, and he could breathe again.
The exhaustion hit Ed all at once, turning his limbs to lead. His head lolled into the snow, feeling as if it weighed hundreds of pounds. Weights tugged at his eyelids, but he couldn't allow himself to lose consciousness out here. They were finished for if he couldn't summon the energy to close up the hole.
The hole!
"C'mon, kid, we got you," Jack's voice broke in through the exhaustion. He felt hands looping around his shoulders, pulling him to his feet. The world spun for a moment, and Ed's knees nearly buckled from the exhaustion weighing him down, but the hands didn't let him fall.
"I一I needー" Ed broke off panting, drawing icy cold air into his oxygen-starved lungs. Hush chest ached with a vengeance, protesting at the deep inhales of breath. Oh yeah, he was going to be sore as hell tomorrow. "T-The hole...I...have to close the hole."
Ed knew he was in no condition to use alchemy, knives attacked behind his eyes, causing his temples to feel as if they had a heartbeat. He didn't think he'd be able to stand without stumbling and falling, yet he had to.
He had to do it for those who'd escaped; Ed was not naive to think that it'd be this easy. The Drachman soldiers would go after the escapees, and he imagined that it wouldn't take long for the soldiers to catch up. Horses were much faster than walking. That was if the Drachman's had horses at all, and Ed was sure they did. Once they caught up, it would be a bloodbath. The freed would have no way to defend themselves.
Ryler wouldn't get the chance to live a normal life.
"Edward一" Ed ignored the rest of the protest; he quickly made up his mind. Sluggishly, he twisted out of the man's grip. He swayed as the world tilted and spun around him. "Ed, kid, stop!" A hand pulled on his shoulder, nearly causing him to stumble. The goal was right in front of him; he couldn't afford to fail.
He shrugged the hand off, agonizing, gasped pants escaping from his lips. His body protested with every step. He could barely inhale when he reached the fence. "Ed, you're in no condition to do this." Another protest from the man behind him.
"It's either this or they get a head start on finding them," He snapped between a gasp, no real heat in his voice.
Ed knelt in front of the hole, arrays flashing through his mind before choosing the right one. He claps, the alchemic energy hits his fingertips immediately, blue sparks dance on his fingers. A brief smirk appears on his lips before it's gone just as fast. Alchemy uses energy from the user, the earth, anything it can get its metaphorical hands-on, which is why he feels like he's about a second from passing out.
He has to do this quickly and cautiously, or it'll rebound. He breathes shallowly and rapidly, preparing his quickly fogging mind for the transmutation and the possible oncoming rebound.
Ed pressed his mismatched hands into the snow, and the transmutation began. The weakness that hit him all of a sudden was so unexpected that Ed nearly lifted his hands. He forced himself onwards, pushing through the rapidly encroaching darkness. It was almost finished...just a little more…
Bang!
Seconds before the hole is fully closed, something hard cracked against his back.
He had to have passed out for a second because, in the next moment of clarity, a boot was on his lower back, forcing him into the snow, something cold pressed into his skull. He decided that any movement would result in a bullet in his head, and he didn't think he'd be able to move with the way his limbs only twitched, and a wet feeling spread down his back.
He didn't have time for the pain to set in before something collided with his temple, sending him into inky blackness.
They'd be running for hours now, running through piling snow through the darkness without a light to guide them. To Rose's relief, the small boy in her arms hadn't stirred once. She imagined that they had to have been exhausted from the day's events if the story Ed had given her was anything to go by.
Rose braced herself against another onslaught of howling wind, groans echoing from the others around her. There was no way of telling if they were headed in the right direction or not, but the direction they'd fled had been their only choice at the time.
She looked back, gaze traveling over those with her. As the night broke to dawn, dull sunlight peeked through the clouds but not enough to broaden their visibility. They would need to find shelter and then decide where to go from there. Yet, there was no telling how long it would be before they came across anything.
"Rose," A voice called out from behind her, breaking through the howling wind. "We need to stop."
She stopped and turned, flinching at the snow that flew into her face, momentarily blinding her. "What's the problem?" She asked worriedly.
The group stopped, gathering in a huddle around her. The man who called her made his way to stand in front of her, clutching his young daughter to his chest, trying his best to protect her from the wind.
"We need to find shelter. It's too dangerous to travel during the day, and I don't want to risk them finding us."
"That's what I was thinking, but we've been traveling for hours now and come across nothing that could be used as a proper shelter."
Worried whispers settled throughout the crowd of people, causing Rose's worries to grow. Trees surrounded them from all sides, never crowding together enough for them to hide properly.
Rose swallowed back her growing fear. They couldn't just stand around here forever doing nothing. It was possible if they traveled a few more miles, then they'd find some sort of cover, but it wasn't a guarantee, and she didn't think the elderly would last much longer with the way their eyes glowed with exhaustion and how they stumbled every few steps.
Of course, there was one option, alchemy. She glanced down at the boy in her arms and was slightly surprised to find him stirring. His blue eyes looked up at her, confusion clearing and face pinching into a frown. "What's going on?" he looked around at the crowd of people, probably surprised there were so many.
Ryler could make us shelter.
It was a selfish thought, yet it was the only thing that came to Rose's mind. She briefly recalled the conversation she'd had with Ed about the boy and knew what she had to do.
"Ryler," She set him on his feet on the snow, kneeling in front of him. He shivered, arms curling around themselves. He looked miserable. "How much alchemy did Edward teach you?"
Ryler rubbed his eyes and yawned before looking back at her. "I was able to learn a lot, so we got some harder things." For a second, anger flashed in his eyes before it disappeared just as quickly.
"Do you know if you could create us a shelter in the trees?" She brushed down the hair that stuck upon his head and smiled at him. The small boy nodded, a look of determination settling upon his face.
"I think I can. Don't worry."
She nodded and stood. Turning her attention back to the crowd, she took the small boy's hand and led him forward. "This is Ryler," She began, motioning to the boy beside her. He shifted uncomfortably under the eyes of the crowd and moved closer to Rose. "Edward taught him. He can make us a shelter."
The crowd spoke amongst themselves, seeming to Rose, unsure if it was a feat that the boy could accomplish. "Rose, isn't he only five?" Brandon asked from amongst the crowd.
"Just because I'm five doesn't mean I can't do it!" Ryler burst, child-like annoyance on his face.
The boy crossed his arms and frowned, and Rose found herself proud of the boy who Ed said held so much fire.
"I don't doubt it, son, but I hear alchemy is very tricky." Brandon quavered, voice thick with uncertainty.
"So?" He challenged. "Ed thinks I can. If he didn't, he wouldn't have shown me more if he didn't trust me with it!" the boy yelled.
Ryler's lip quivered dangerously, and Rose could see tears gathering in his eyes. He seemed to be seconds away from a meltdown if he didn't get his way. She turned to the older man and hissed. "Let him try. No harm can come with it."
Brandon stared at her, surprised. He relented, sighing, and nodding. "Alright. I guess it wouldn't hurt."
"Good," She turned to the crowd, mentally counting the number of people that would need accommodation. "We need to hurry; the sun is almost up. I'll show him where I think the shelter would be best held."
Rose headed deeper into the thicket, small footsteps tromping through the snow after her. Snow covered the leafless trees, the early dawn light turning them into haunting phantoms. She shivered, kicking away tree branches scattered at her feet.
It was eerily quiet, but she knew it was just in her head. The group was only in the clearing; they were perfectly safe for the moment. Yet some part of Rose felt as if something was watching her every move.
"I think right here will be alright," Rose said finally. "Is there any area specifically you need to draw the circle?"
Ryler shook his head. "I don't think so; Ed told me that when he drew circles, it didn't affect the transmutation."
The boy settled himself into the snow.
After a few minutes, it became apparent to Rose that the time spent in the compound had had more effect on Ryler than she and Ed had worried about. He tensed up whenever the wind picked up, relaxing a moment later as if he'd only just realized it was the wind.
The hoot of an owl returning from the hunt startled the boy so severely that he flinched what had to be two feet into the air. His blue eyes turned toward her, glinting brightly in the early morning light, and her heart broke when he saw his hands shake, and his lips quiver.
What had those bastards done to him? Rose's heart practically broke, watching the young boy reign his emotions as best as possible while making sure that the tears trekking down his face were silent.
Ryler still should've been with his family, entering school, playing from friends. He deserved all of that and so much more, and now it was very likely that it would take a while for the young boy to move past the past few months. It would take him a very long time to move past Edward.
"Ryler," Rose settled in the snow beside him. The boy looked away from her, quickly wiping away any tears and then continued with his work. "Are you alright?" She asked.
Ryler paused once more, staring down at the half-drawn circle. "Why do you care," he pouted, drawing his arms around his knees. He sniffled and wiped a hand across his nose. "Ed didn't care. So why do you?"
"Ryler," She chided, "Ed cares so much for you."
The boy's blue eyes narrowed for a moment as if he didn't believe her, and after all that had happened in the past few hours, Rose couldn't say she blamed him.
"If that was true, then why did he send me away?"
Distantly, something rustled nearby, and the rustling of the trees against the breeze grew, but Rose ignored it for the feelings of guilt and overwhelming that overtook her.
She started at the boy, a blank look on her face, contrasting the look of anger and misery on the face across from her. How was Rose supposed to respond to that?
"Rye一"
Rose's next words never came out of her mouth because she suddenly found herself on the ground, the world going hazy around her, and a blood-curdling scream of agony tearing through her lips.
There was a wolf planted on her chest, jaws locked around her neck.
Ed hated waking up in strange places, absolutely hated it. He hated with a burning passion. He even hated it more than milk (no he didn't, milk was on a whole different level). That wasn't the point, though. The point was that waking up in a cold room, specialized metal handcuffs on your wrists, and having yourself situated in a metal chair with your legs restrained, would've panicked an average human beyond belief. Yet panic didn't even describe the emotion he felt as he craned his head to look around at his new surroundings.
The walls were plain, faded white with water stains on the ceiling tiles. The floor was tiled, faded white as well. There was nothing noticeable or significant about the room to Ed's annoyance. It looked like a regular room.
Who knew the Drachman's had such awful taste.
You're one to talk, the voice in his head reprimanded, sounding too much like Mustang.
Shut up; he snapped at himself.
He allowed his head to sag into the back of the chair, eyes falling shut, allowing himself to breathe through nausea that his gut conjured up from anxiety and the slight lick of pain emanating from his back and一
His eyes snapped open, and he remembered. Something had collided against him; a glance down at his abdomen quelled the fear that he'd been shot with a bullet. To Ed, it was a little surprising that they hadn't used lethal force unless they wanted him alive.
They wanted him alive.
The magnitude of the thought was gut wrenching, and he swallowed down the thickness in his throat. Right, this must be the part of his stay in the hellhole where they tortured him to get what they wanted.
A bitter smile forced its way onto his face, and he tilted his face up. "Y'know truth, I know I've made a lot of mistakes, but this is getting a little ridiculous." He joked sardonically.
There was no way to get out of this, that was the first thing that was clear to him. The second was the flashes of memories, of what Mustang told him to do if he ever encountered a situation like this.
His superior had said something about staying silent, don't give them what一
A sharp, deep, wailing scream shattered the quiet that encompassed the space that Ed resided. He tensed harshly, eyes trained carefully on the door. If he listened closely, he could hear the sound of an interrogation elsewhere.
Minutes that felt like hours seemed to pass as Ed kept a tense gaze on the door to his left. More than once did the panic almost overtake him, leaving him worrying for his loved ones, how would Al get his body back without him, would Winry be able to move on from him, how he'd never get to see Ryler living a happy life?
Stop! This is what they want. They want you scared.
Ed blinked stupidly, mind pulling him back to an interrogation tactic.
"Drachman are the worst. They leave their prisoners to stew in their thoughts, and when they come to interrogate, the prisoner breaks." Mustang had told him, and he was glad that the conversation was one of the only ones he paid any attention to.
Was there anything else he told you, think…
Ed tried his hardest to remember, but all he got was vague memories of what to do if any other countries captured him.
He groaned in frustration. He needed to learn how to listen better and一
The metal door to his left groaned as it pushed open, interrupting Ed's turbulent thoughts and silent panic.
He stared blankly at the five soldiers that filed in, the major general, an interrogator, a hulking man who was a major, and three lieutenants, including Phantom. His heart nearly sank when he saw the alchemist's eyes pull away from his glare.
No hard feelings, the alchemist's gaze said when their eyes met momentarily. The man looked slightly ashamed and horrified, and Ed couldn't hold that against him.
A chair was dragged in the room for the general, the screeching nearly causing Ed to wince. The interrogator stared at Ed silently from the general's side, ice blue eyes filled with anger, and Ed eyed the man warily. The man's fists looked as if they could crush his head without even trying.
The major general stared at him, and Ed could see the barely restrained anger with the way the man's face twitched, and multiple emotions flittered across his face. The silence also gave Ed to size the general up, taking in the man's gray speckled beard and gray eyes that looked as if they wanted to tear him apart.
"Your companions have refused to tell me the ring leader of this operation," The general's rough voice echoed, a choleric bite to his voice, the general stood, moving to stand closer to the young alchemist restrained in the chair. "They didn't even break when the brands bore into their skin, and the fire licked them and burned their skin," The man moved to where his mouth was beside Ed's ear. "Tell me, boy, do you know what a burn feels like?" The general hissed through his teeth.
"Can't say I do, but you clearly一"
A fist connected with Ed's jaw, snapping his head to his right. Bright spots momentarily covered Ed's vision before he shook them away and turned back to bare his teeth at the general.
"I don't have time for games, boy," The general snarled.
"I don't have time for this." Ed mocked in a high pitched voice.
The next blow didn't give Ed any time to prepare himself, copper quickly filled his mouth, and he spat it onto the ground between his feet. Blood trickled from the young alchemist's nose, but he paid no mind to it.
"What happened to the stories I've heard of all these scary Drachman tortures? Afraid to use them on someone you can't kill?" Ed challenged.
The general sighed, he glanced at the interrogator, who met his gaze and nodded in a silent message that had Ed curious. The man then swiftly opened the door, and the general turned his gaze back to Ed, and to his slight alarm, the coldness had made way for something else, something that Ed couldn't pinpoint.
As quick as a snapping turtle, the general grasped Ed's jaw, pulling his head up and gripping it so hard that Ed nearly groaned. "Don't mistake me, boy. I was hoping that we'd be able to use slightly less...extreme methods." His voice turned dangerous, somehow even more than it already was.
Did they think anything they were getting ready to do would get him to talk? They could try all they wanted, but they were never going to get him to sing like a canary.
The interrogator returned minutes later, eyes wide with a form of excitement that caused Ed's nerves to build. "Odin iz nikh govoril. Ikh kurs na granitsu!" Ed didn't catch anything the man said, but his heart sank when he saw the general's eyes light up.
"Khorosho. YA podgotovlyu vecherinku dlya ikh poiska."
The general turned to him, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Well, young alchemist, aren't you lucky? Someone talked."
Ed's heart skipped a beat.
No, shit, no, no, no!
It took all of Ed's strength to keep his calm composure. He couldn't afford for them to see how scared the statement made him. But he was terrified.
The general stepped away from him and clasped the interrogator on the shoulder. "Two hours. Then he goes to the truck with the others."
The interrogator simply nodded, satisfied. He took his leave along with Phantom, and another lieutenant and Ed was left alone with two muscular men who were about to beat the shit out of him.
Oh, shit.
The next two hours had passed in a pain-filled haze. The two soldiers had taken turns beating him bloody, going for Ed's face, which he was now pretty sure was black and blue. His left eye had already swollen shut, and no matter how much blood he spat out, the copper tang perpetually stayed.
Sweat coated his limbs from the struggle of keeping himself consciousness, and the heaving breaths that drew themselves out of him. His bangs covered his face, clinging to sweat and blood. At some point during the beating, he remembered something in his body cracking, and now realized it focused in his abdomen. Of course, another broken rib.
The beating had started with things he could handle, punches to the face, the abdomen (His torso was probably covered in large dark bruises). Then they'd brought in the fire poker.
Thankfully, they'd chosen to mask him for that, something he was now glad about because he wasn't able to hide the agony and his wide golden eyes filled with pain when the white-hot poker dug into his side.
He'd inhaled sharply, oxygen refusing to enter his lungs as he sputtered and gasped through the pain. The muscles in his neck had tensed, preparing for the scream attempting to work its way from his throat, threatening to tear it apart.
The muscles in Ed's hand had tensed so much that the bones protested. The mask quickly turned damp from the sweat and involuntary tears that trickled down his face.
His heart had felt as if it was going to explode as if it was trying to escape from a pack of feral animals. His lungs burned as his chest had heaved.
And the fire continued.
Ed is sure he had to have passed out at one point, there's a vague memory of his limbs turning to lead, his body finally giving out as the pain got too much, and shamefully he thinks he can remember a whimper pulling itself from him as he sank into unconsciousness.
You're pathetic; he snarled at himself.
He was now alone, a brief respite from the agony.
He didn't want to remember how it arched up his spine, causing his limbs to struggle against his will. Didn't want to remember how he nearly begged for them to stop, and he most certainly didn't want to remember pleading through his agony for someone to save him.
How pathetic that you're reduced to a sobbing child at the instance of pain
Ed didn't have the energy to draw a retort to that thought.
The next time Ed was roused into full consciousness, it was to the sharp squeal of a truck's wheels, and something nudged against his lips. He gasped, shooting into a sitting position and wincing at the severe pain shooting through his body.
He looked around, taking in the appearances of Jack and the five other men. They were all a mess, each looking battered and bruised, while some were missing fingernails, and Ed slightly winced with sympathy.
"You look like shit, kid." Jack chortled, a slight smile coming onto his face before it disappeared just as quickly.
"So do you." Ed retorted, golden eyes flashing. He settled himself carefully against the wall, wincing at the burn on his ankle.
The older man glanced at him then to his feet, and Ed suddenly felt guilty. He'd gotten them caught and tortured, and now they were going to who the hell knows. This was his fault.
"I'm sorry," he said aloud, directing to everyone around him. "It's my fault all of you got caught. I shouldn't have had that panic attack." Ed's fists curled together; a tight expression appeared on his face.
Whatever happened would be his fault. Damn it.
"It's my fault, kid," Ed's head snapped around to look at the man, surprise on his battered face. "I should've known you'd be in no condition to keep helping after you sent that kid off." The older man rubbed a hand down his face and winced.
"They broke your finger." It was more of a statement than a question as Ed motioned to the man's hand, the ring finger appearing crooked and swollen.
Jack nodded. "They're going to find them," Ed suddenly realized. Horror grew on his face, and he turned to look at the man. "They're going to kill them." The realization knocked the air from his lungs.
Oh, god. Ryler.
The horror spread itself to Jack's face. "Shit," He hissed, banging his good hand on the floor. "There's nothing we can do. They're on their own."
The statement left Ed feeling as helpless as the day he was born.
There was nothing else that could be said after that. It was a terrifying reality, either the escapees would be able to escape or die. There was no in-between.
All Ed could do was hope. Hope that they escaped in time. Hoped that they escaped the inevitable.
Looking back, he should've known better than to hope.
.
The truck came to a halt an indeterminable amount of time later. It jolted Ed from his light doze, pulling him to full attention. The other men around him tensed, waiting for the moment their captors would come for them.
The screech of the door raising caused some to jump a mile. Ed swallowed back the anxiety and met the soldier's gaze with a glare of his own. He was the first one out, shivering immediately at the snow falling around them.
A chain was attached to the collar on his neck, and he'd never felt more like a dog.
He took note of their surroundings. It was a large, wide-open field, filled with bushes and spotted with a few trees. Something was unsettling about this place, but Ed couldn't put his finger on it.
He limped along with the soldier, wincing as the cold made his wounds ache. The soldier tugged at the chain, tightening the collar and making him feel as if he couldn't breathe momentarily. "I'm going; I'm going." He snarled.
They walked down a hill and finally stopped at an area with posts in the center. Ed is forced into the snow, arms wrapped around the post, and the chain around the collar wrapped around so tightly that barely a tug results in him nearly choking.
Distantly as he stares up at the soldier, a knife and gag in hand, a shiver of fear runs through him. Were they planning on killing them?
No, he decided after the gag was placed in his mouth. That would be much too easy. Drachman torture based itself on fear. They wanted their prisoners scared, and perhaps they wanted him scared enough to give in and help them with whatever they were planning.
This had to be the worst time to think about it, but Ed had a vague memory from yesterday, something had been inserted into his arm. He'd noticed the pinprick, but hadn't thought anything of it.
They'd put something in him, in all of the kids. In Ryler.
A sharp sting breaks Ed out his disquiet, and he jolts. A hiss escapes from his lips, and the flinch jostles the knife sticking out his bicep that he can see in the corner of his eye. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. The blood appeared immediately, dripping down his forearm and off his fingertips, staining the snow a deep crimson.
The soldier hummed in approval, wiping the bloody knife off on his pants. Ed squeezed his eyes shut, the wound throbbing. It's probably not all that deep, could've possibly probably only torn flesh and tissue.
Small grunts came from the other men, and then the smell of crimson filled the cold air. Ed scowled, there was no telling what animal could be attracted to the blood.
Unless…
Ed's eyes widened, and his breath momentarily stopped.
Oh, shit.
"Where are you going," Jack's voice rang out through the wind. "You can't just leave us here!" Terror filled the man's voice, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see just how scared the man was.
The soldier sighed. "We'll be back some time." The man's footsteps quieted as he moved further away.
"Better stay on your guard," The soldier shouted back, amusement in his voice. "The wolves come out at night."
With that statement, it was quiet. It all made sense now. The blood...the wolves, they would come and there would be no way for any of them to defend themselves.
Shit.